The Ritual: A Dark College Romance

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

BLAKELY

THE FOLLOWING MORNING, we’re walking down the hallway of my apartment complex and come up to my door. Two boxes are sitting outside of it. Ryat bends down to pick them up, and then takes the keys from my hand and unlocks the door, shoving it open for me.

“What’s in those boxes?” I ask, entering.

“Curtains,” he answers, locking it after he closes it.

“Curtains?” I wonder. “Why are you having things shipped to my apartment?”

“Because they are for your windows.”

I follow him into the kitchen, and he opens the top drawer, pulling out the scissors and cuts the top, popping it open. “How did you know where those scissors were?” I ask, but he ignores me, repeating the process with the second box. “Why do I need those?” I go on.

“You’ve got an hour,” he dismisses me.

Standing here, I look down at them, wondering what the hell he’s doing when he spins me around and slaps my ass playfully, ordering, “Go get ready.”

“It won’t take me that long,” I say, trying to figure out what the hell he’s doing.

“You should pack a bag.”

I didn’t have anything at his place, so we had to stop by here this morning before my ten o’clock class. I start to walk toward my room but stop and turn to look at him. “Can we stay here?”

He stops fucking with the damn curtains and looks up at me. Brows scrunching. “Here?” he repeats.

I nod. “Yeah, the house is crowded.” And Matt is there. “Can we stay here? At least sometimes? Or is that against a rule?” I have no clue what they are and aren’t allowed to do. Matt would never tell me shit! I thought it was because he was trying to protect me, but now I think it’s because he was hiding stuff from me.

“No. It’s not against any rules,” he answers, and I smile at his honesty but notice he doesn’t answer my first question. “Go get ready.” He returns his attention to my new curtains, making me roll my eyes.

I throw on some makeup—foundation, mascara, and blush. Then I brush my hair before running a straightener over the ends to try to calm it down quickly since I fell asleep with it wet last night, and then slip on a black tank top and a skirt. It resembles a tennis skirt with a wide waistband and pleats. The fabric is light and soft. I lean over the countertop and apply red lipstick and call it good.

I walk into my bedroom to find him standing in front of my window, admiring the black curtains that now hang from my window. He must have hung them while I was in the bathroom. “I’m ready.”

He looks over his shoulder at me and then turns his entire body around, placing his hands on his hips. His eyes start at my chest and slowly run down to my heels, hardening to a darker green. “Change,” he orders.

I laugh at that and walk into the kitchen. “I’m going to grab a drink really quick, then we can go.” Bending over into the fridge, I pick up a bottle of water. Straightening, I turn and shut it. “Okay …” I call out, but he’s standing right there, making me jump. “Jesus, Ryat …”

He grips my hair and yanks me forward. I cry out, dropping my water. Shoving me down, he bends me at the waist and drags me back to the bedroom, tossing me onto the bed facedown.

I go to get up, but he grabs my hands and yanks them behind my back. “Ryat …” I gasp his name when he sits on my thighs, pinning me down, knowing exactly where this is going. He brings my arms parallel against my back, holding them with one hand, his fingers digging into my skin. Then I hear him removing his belt with his free hand. It wraps around my forearms a few times, then he fastens it, securing them in place.

My face is pushed into the comforter, smearing what little makeup I just applied. He gets up off my thighs and slaps them. “Put my ass in the air,” he commands.

I close my eyes, my heart hammering still from him dragging me in here. Wiggling the best I can, I get up onto my knees and spread them as wide as I can, knowing what he wants. My entire body hurts from last night. My calves burn from the position I was in when he left me there. My shoulders hurt from being pulled across my body. My back is sore from how it was stretched over his footboard. I have bruises on my hips. And my feet from my heels. But my pussy? It’s pulsing, begging to be touched. Fucked. It hurts in the best way and I hope it stays like this. A reminder of what he does to me.

I flinch when his hands touch my thighs. He runs them up to my ass, under my skirt, before he flips the soft material up and onto my back. Hooking his fingers into my underwear, he takes his time, slowly running them up and down the inside of the material, his knuckles barely grazing my pussy.

I suck in a shaky breath when he pulls them to the side, exposing myself to him.

“She’s so wet,” he praises, and I dig my face into the comforter so he can’t hear my pathetic whimper. I always knew I’d get turned on by being dominated. “See how easy this was?” he goes on. “For someone to see what I have and take it?” Then I hear his zipper.

He doesn’t give me any chance to prepare for his cock. No fingers. No tongue. He thrusts his hard dick into me, stretching me with his large size and making me scream. It hurts. Just like it did last night. I’m sore and sensitive, but I want to get off. I want to hear him moan my name. I love that he can’t help himself. That he has this primal need to make me his. Over and over.

He shoves my legs farther apart with his, and the new angle has my ass dropping a little. He leans over my back, grips my hair, and yanks my face back, fucking me roughly until we’re both coming and tears are running down my face.

RYAT

ONCE DONE, Ipull out, and she sags to the bed. I rip the skirt off her and undo my belt. She stretches out and sniffs. Helping her to a sitting position, I then go over to her dresser and open the third drawer, pulling out a pair of jeans. “Wear these.” I toss them onto the bed. “Keep your underwear on.” I want her dressed in her cum-covered underwear all day. I’ll make sure to stuff them into her mouth later. Give her a reminder of what I did to her when she disobeyed. I go to walk out of her room, but she stops me.

“How did you know where those were?”

I turn back around and stare at her. I fucked up her makeup, and her hair’s now a tangled mess from my hands. Pretty much messed up everything she just did to herself in a matter of our twenty-minute fuck. Leaning up against the doorframe, I cross my arms over my chest.

Her eyes drop to her skirt in my hand. “Ryat?” She barks my name. “You knew where the scissors were. And now my jeans.” Her voice rises.

I smile. She’s cute when angry. I’ll remember that.

“Did you … did you go through my room when I wasn’t here?”

I lay her unconscious body on her bed. Standing next to it, I watch her sleep. She passed out the moment she came on my face in my bed back at the house of Lord’s party. I got her dressed, placed her in her car, and drove her back to her apartment while Gunner followed me in his car with a drunk, passed-out Sarah as well.

Blakely won’t remember much come tomorrow. Too much alcohol will do that to you.

“Ready?” Gunner steps into her room to see if I’m ready for what we came here to do.

“Give me a minute,” I answer. Going into her bathroom, I open her drawers, searching for something that will be very important once I choose her as mine.

Crouching down, I open the bottom cabinets under her sink and see hair products along with curling irons. Standing, I open the drawer next to her sink. “A-ha.” I pull out the light pink container. Popping it open, I see the birth control and make sure she’s on the correct day. Just because she has it doesn’t mean she uses it. And she is. Just what I wanted to know. Now that I know she’s a virgin, I want to make sure I don’t have to use a condom. The last thing I need is to get her pregnant.

Putting it back where I found it, I exit her room and walk into the living room. I pull her cell, keys, and ID out of my back pocket and dump the stuff onto the countertop in the kitchen.

“I’m ready.” I hold out my hand to Gunner while he removes Sarah’s things from his.

“No,” I tell her truthfully. “I went through it when I brought you home from the party at the Lords.” I did more than just go through her stuff.

Her eyes drop to the floor, and her brows scrunch. “Last night … last night you said you’d show me what you did to me when I drank that stuff.” Her eyes snap back up to mine. “Did you place cameras in here that night too?”

“Yes.” She’ll never find them. Gunner and I were prepared to do our homework that night. We were here for well over two hours.

“How many?” she demands, getting to her feet, but she wobbles on shaky legs from my cock in her pussy. So she kicks her heels off for better stability.

“Enough.”

“Ryat.” She storms toward me. “You had no right!”

I reach out, grab her neck, and slam her into the wall next to the door. I put my face in hers, and our noses practically touch. She lets out a shaky breath. “As much as I’m loving this little attitude of yours.” Her pretty blue eyes narrow to slits on mine. “We have somewhere to be. Get dressed, fix yourself, and let’s go.”

With that, I let go of her and walk into the kitchen, leaving her to get ready. I open the drawer next to the sink, grab a lighter, and hold it to the skirt, lighting it up and then dropping it into the sink. It was too short with easy access. She thought I was fucking joking when I told her to change. I wasn’t. She’s going to learn really quick that I don’t joke about shit, and I have no problem proving that to her.

Just like the curtains. I got them because I once sat in my car and jacked off to her walking around naked in her room and taking a shower. I’m not going to allow another man to do the same. So, I had to add some protection for her.

She’s fanning the smoke when she enters the open living room/kitchen area. Now dressed in the jeans I picked out. Her makeup is fixed, but she has thrown her hair up into a messy bun instead of taking the time to do anything with it. “What are you burning?” she asks.

When I don’t answer, she looks around, and her eyes go to the sink. “Is that my skirt?” she growls.

“Was your skirt,” I correct her, and she fists her hands down by her side. “I have to leave town this weekend,” I tell her, changing the subject. This probably won’t be the last piece of clothing of hers that I get rid of.

She tilts her head to the side, letting out an exasperated breath. “Why?” Her tone tells me she doesn’t really care. Just that she felt obligated to ask.

“Do not go to the house of Lords.” So, I ignore her question.

Her lips turn down just the slightest at her confusion. “What? Why would I—?”

“Do not go there,” I interrupt her.

“Sure, yeah.” She nods her head as if I believe that shit lie she just told.

“That’s not good enough, Blake,” I snap.

She huffs. “Well, Sarah is there. Why can’t I go there and see her? You’ll be out of town. What else do I have to do?”

That’s what I was afraid of. The house of Lords parties every fucking weekend after the vow ceremony. No cloaks, no masks. Just fucking orgies. Anyone and everyone will show up. I don’t trust Matt around her. And I don’t trust her not to get wasted with Sarah. Hell, the last time she did that, she let a guy tie her up and go down on her—me. So, I’m very well aware of what she’s willing to do. She’s been starving for physical attention longer than I have. I knew I couldn’t have it; she was just rejected. I don’t blame her for wanting it now, but I’m afraid she’ll get too friendly with someone. Or someone may just see a passed-out drunk woman as an opportunity. I could have Prickett and Gunner watch out for her, but she is not their responsibility. She’s mine.

I walk over to her, and she stiffens, expecting me to throw her to the floor or tie her up and fuck her. Instead, I say, “There will be plenty of parties for us to attend there. Just promise me that you won’t go to the house of Lords without me. Ever.” Unless she walks into the front doors with me hand in hand she does not need to be there. Period.

Her blue eyes search mine before she licks her lips and nods, softening her voice. “I promise.” Sounding much more believable.

Cupping her cheek, I lean in and kiss her forehead while whispering, “Good girl,” making her whimper.

I was taught to punish and humiliate when needed. But I was also shown the importance of praise. Blakely will learn to crave that from me as much as the other.