The Ritual: A Dark College Romance

CHAPTER FORTY

RYAT

TRYING TO WRAP my mind around what I came home to, I shake my head. “I haven’t fucked her in over three years.” Back before I took my oath. Blake is the only woman I’ve been with since I joined the Lords my freshman year at Barrington.

“Sure. And I didn’t fuck anyone while I was away.” She winks at me, nibbling on her bottom lip playfully.

The fuck?

Giving me her back, she goes to walk off, but I reach out, grab her upper arm, and spin her around. I grip her neck with my free hand. “You better be fucking lying, Blake.” I will chase down and dismember any man who she touched. Then I’ll beat that fine ass black and blue until she remembers who owns it.

“Is that what you want, Ryat?” she goes on. “Want us to be open?”

“Absolutely not ...”

“You fuck who you want.” She tilts her head to the side, her eyes dropping to my T-shirt and the sexiest smirk I’ve ever seen crosses her face. “I fuck whoever I want.”

My hands are fucking shaking. My blood boiling.

“We can share … Maybe you want to watch another man fuck me.”

I spin us around, slamming her back into the wall. Her eyes close, and her lips part, forcing a whimper. “I think those three weeks away made you forget who I am, Blake. Let me remind you.” Picking her up, I throw her over my shoulder and carry her off to the bedroom, where I toss her onto our bed, facedown.

She giggles, and it makes my hard cock twitch with anticipation. I can’t even think about the fact that I’m playing into her game right now. Blakely knows what to do to piss me off, and she did it.

Opening my nightstand, I grab the handcuffs. Yanking her hands behind her back, I tighten them around her wrists as tight as I can and hear the little whimper she tries to hide. It makes me smile. I lean over her back and whisper in her ear, “You wanted to be punished. Remember that.”

Then I stand and flip her onto her back, pinning them underneath her and forcing a cry from her lips. It makes my hard cock twitch. Those three years I had to abstain from sex was nothing compared to the three weeks without her.

It was fucking torture.

Undoing my jeans, I pull my hard cock out and then undo the sash holding the trench coat closed. I rip it open to expose her body to me, and she arches her back, wiggling her arms underneath her to try to relieve the pain. It’s not going to help her.

Crawling onto the bed, I spread her legs with my knees, and my hand goes to her pussy. She’s wet. I knew she would be. She was already wound up, just begging to be fucked.

I slide into her, no foreplay. A part of me wants to hurt her. After I finish with her, I want her to still feel me between her legs. I lay my body on top of hers, pinning her down even more, bringing tears to her eyes.

“I missed you, Blake,” I say honestly, my lips trailing along her jawline. “And I’m going to show you just how much.”

My hips start to move, hard and fast. Our bodies slapping together.

She arches her back, a cry coming from her parted lips. I sit up, wrap my hands around her neck and squeeze, taking her air away while I pound into her soaking wet cunt. I watch her eyes grow heavy, and her lips turn blue. Just as her eyes fall shut, I let go, and she sucks in a ragged breath, coughing.

I slow my pace, feeling every inch of her wrapped around my length. “Look at me,” I demand, gripping her chin to hold her face in place.

Her watery eyes meet mine. “If another man ever touches you, I’ll kill him, Blake.” Lowering my lips to her cheek, I lick up her tears, tasting the saltiness. “Painfully … slowly.” I kiss the corner of her parted lips. “It doesn’t matter if you wanted him to or not,” I inform her. “And then I’ll remind you that you belong to me.” I slam into her, forcing a whimper out of her. “Do you understand me?”

Sitting up once again, I watch my cock slide in and out of her shaved pussy. My gaze goes back to hers, waiting for a response, but her eyes are closed. I slap the side of her breast, making her pussy tighten around my dick. “Answer me,” I demand, slapping the other one.

“Yes.” She moans. “I understand.”

“Who do you belong to?” I growl, my hips picking up the pace once again.

“You.”

“Fucking mine, Blake!” I grab her legs, my fingers digging into her thighs, and spread them wide open for me, allowing me to go deeper. I slam into her over and over again until she clamps down around me and comes all over my dick.

I don’t let up. The bed bangs against the wall, the room filled with her cries, her body now slick against mine. As I pick up my pace, my balls tighten.

“Ryat …” She breathes. “Ryat, I’m not …”

I lean over and place my hand over her mouth. I silence her, knowing exactly what she’s about to say, but I don’t give a fuck. Thrusting one more time, I come inside her.

I wait for a second while she lies underneath me, body shaking and trying to catch her breath. I pull out and fall down onto the bed beside her, expecting her to yell at me, but she doesn’t.

The doorbell rings, and I sit up, rolling her body onto her stomach to undo the cuffs. “Get dressed,” I order, slapping her ass, and then exit the bedroom, knowing we’ve still got shit to deal with. Our fight can wait until later.

BLAKELY

I DRESS BACKin my T-shirt and cotton shorts from earlier before I exit the bedroom and walk down the hallway to find Ryat sitting on the couch, my father in a recliner and that man from the house of Lords in the opposite one.

Glaring at Ryat, I take the couch but choose to sit at the other end. My anger for him once again at a ten.

“Trouble already?” the man asks, amusement in his voice.

“Who the hell are you?” I demand, crossing my arms over my chest. I’m mad that I lost the battle against Ryat. I challenged him, thinking I could win, and the bastard still beat me.

“Blakely—”

“No, it’s quite all right,” he interrupts my father. “A Lady needs to have some fire in her if she’s going to succeed.” His eyes slide over to Ryat.

I swallow nervously at those words. I forget that I have to prove myself to the Lords, not just my husband. I have a feeling they’re going to be much harder to sway than a man I fuck.

“My name is Abbot Archer,” he announces proudly, and my stomach sinks.

Fuuuccckkkk.

“And I’m your father-in-law.” He stands from the recliner and walks over to me. I look up at him through my lashes, and he reaches out, taking my left hand. I hold my breath when he runs his thumb over my wedding ring. “I’m guessing you didn’t sign the papers.”

“What?” My eyes widen. “How did you—?”

“She threw them in the fireplace,” Ryat answers, interrupting me.

My head snaps to look at him, sitting at the other end of the couch, but he’s typing something on his cell.

“Good,” Abbot praises.

I look back up at him. “I don’t understand …”

“You passed your first test of initiation.” My father-in-law nods his head once, letting go of my hand, and it slaps my bare thigh.

First test of initiation?I thought I was going to get a text with a name, time, and address? No one said I’d be tested multiple times. How many tests will there be? Ryat said I threw them in the fire. I did, but he had already left.

“How did you …?” I trail off, trying to piece together everything that has happened over the past twenty-four hours. I thought my mind was clear, but I was obviously mistaken. I look around the large open living room and out the floor-to-ceiling windows that showcase the dark night. He must have cameras here. Of course, he does. I should have known. Matt said that they are always watching. He made up those papers and got in a fight with me. He needed an exit strategy and then once he left, he sat back somewhere and watched me.

“You set me up,” I say to Ryat, turning my body on the couch to fully face him.

He’s still typing away on his phone. Reaching over, I snatch it from his hands and toss it across the room. The sound of it hitting the glass fills the room, and I secretly hope I broke the damn device. His eyes narrow on mine. “Blake …”

“I’m fucking talking to you. The least you can do is pretend to listen!” I snap.

“Oh, I like her.” I hear Mr. Archer whisper to my father.

I stand, glaring down at Ryat. “So, everything you said to me in the room earlier was a lie.” How am I supposed to know what is true anymore?

His jaw sharpens, and nostrils flare.

“You tricked me. Made me think you wanted a divorce. What if I would have signed them?” Then what? That would have been considered a failure. Would he have come home and killed me right then?

“You wouldn’t have.” He snorts, like it’s impossible for me to walk away from him. I guess the fact that I burned them proves his point.

“What if I had, Ryat? Then what?” I shout.

He takes the two steps, closing the distance. Reaching up, he places his fingers under my chin and runs his thumb gently over my parted lips. “If you thought for one second that I’d let you walk away from me, then I need to remind you who I am … again.” A smirk tugs at the corner of his lips.

My breathing picks up, and I pull away. The touch and words feel too intimate for our audience. Especially since they’re our fathers. “But you signed them,” I argue.

“I had to,” he growls, giving me his back. “It was an order from the Lords …”

“The Lords?” I give a rough laugh. “How long will they control our life, Ryat?” I snap, and he spins back to face me. “Huh? What will you do when they tell you to leave me?”

“They won’t.” He shakes his head.

“How do you know that?”

“Because they won’t!” he yells.

“I don’t believe that!” I shout back. “And your loyalty lies with them. Not me.”

“Blake.” He sighs, running a hand through his hair. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Test me,” I say, holding my hands out wide. Let’s get this over with right now. He can give me a test from the Lords, and when I pass, this’ll all be over.

“I can’t,” he growls through gritted teeth. “Not in that way.”

“Are you serious?” I snap. “Everything has been a fucking test since the moment I ran into you in the hallway at Barrington, and all of a sudden, you can’t. That doesn’t make any fucking sense, Ryat!”

“Things have changed.”

“What the hell has changed? Because it all looks to be the same fucking game.” The room falls silent after my outburst. I drop back down onto the couch. Placing my elbows on my knees, I bury my face in my hands and take a deep breath. “How am I supposed to prove my loyalty to you if you don’t trust me with your secrets?” I look up at him, and he’s now standing in front of the floor-to-ceiling windows. Bending down, he picks up his cell and then shoves his hands into the pockets of his jeans.

“There is a—”

“No!” he interrupts his father, spinning around.

“What is it?” I shoot to my feet.

“It’s nothing,” Ryat snaps.

“You’re lying. And once again hiding something from me.”

“I won’t risk your life!” he screams, his face turning red.

Taking in a deep breath, I walk over to him. “You do it for the Lords. Why should I accept it, but you not?”

“Because I chose this life, Blake,” he growls.

“And then I chose you when I burned those divorce papers. So I’m in the middle—”

“Not anymore,” he interrupts me. “You will do your last initiation because I’ll be there to make sure it goes smoothly, then you’re done. You’ll be a Lady and my wife. That’s it.”

That’s not the end. Not even close. He’s in it for life, and it scares me to know that they have this much control over it. “But the Lords will still call you to do work for them.”

“That’s what I signed up for,” he agrees.

It just makes me even more nervous for our future. “What about what I want?”

“I’ve told you before, and I’ll tell you again, that doesn’t matter.” This time, his eyes look soft, almost remorseful as if it hurt him to tell me that.

I spin around and look at my father, hoping he can help me out in some way. “Daddy …”

He raises his hand, stopping me, and my shoulders sag. “I’m afraid he’s right, princess. I won’t put you in danger any more than you already have been. This all started because of me, and it will end because of me.”

My breathing picks up. “What does that mean?”

He looks over at Ryat. “May I speak to you privately?”

“No,” I answer for him. “You can’t.”

“Sure.” Ryat ignores me and opens the sliding glass door. “Let’s step outside.”

I go to run after him, but Mr. Archer stops me. “I must say, I had my doubts about you.”

I turn around to look at him relaxing in the recliner. His right ankle propped up on his left knee.

“I never was that big of a fan of Cindy.” He shrugs. “That’s why I didn’t argue when he said he wanted you.”

At the mention of her name, I look around the room to see she’s no longer here. Where is she? Did she wake up and manage to get free while Ryat and I were having sex in the bedroom? That brings me to another thought. Why did Ryat look so surprised to see her here when he got back when he had obviously watched me burn the divorce papers? “Where is she?” I ask, spinning in a circle, looking for her.

“Who?” he asks, tilting his head in thought.

“Cindy.”

“How would I know?” he asks, shrugging.

“Is this another test?” I swallow nervously.

He pushes himself up from the recliner and straightens his suit jacket. “I think you need some rest, Blakely. A lot has happened recently.”

“No.” I shake my head. I’m not losing my mind; I lost a person. She was right here. I had tied her wrists together. Put tape over her mouth that Ryat took off and then slammed her head into the wall, knocking her out. “She was—”

The sound of the sliding glass door opening behind me cuts me off. “Abbot, let’s get out of here. Leave these two lovebirds alone,” my father calls out, entering the house.

Coming up behind me, he places his hands on my shoulders and kisses my hair. “I’ll call you tomorrow. Get some rest.”

Then, without another word, they both leave the house.

I slowly turn around to see Ryat leaning up against the now closed sliding glass door. With his arms crossed over his chest, he glares at me. “I’m not losing my mind,” I state as if he accused me of doing so.

He doesn’t acknowledge me in any way. Doesn’t even blink.

“She was right here.” I go over to the wall where she lay on the floor. “You knocked her out. Then carried me to the bedroom.”

Again, no response.

“Where did she go, Ryat?” I ask him.

“Don’t worry about her,” he finally speaks, pushing off the glass.

“Ryat … she.”

“Blake.” He comes up to me and cups my face. “Don’t worry about it.”