The Ritual: A Dark College Romance

H E REMOVES THE tape from my face, the sting making me flinch, and pulls the underwear from my mouth. I immediately start sobbing. He undoes my arms and pulls my trembling body into his.

I knew it was Ryat before he even spoke to me. I have the feel of his hands down. I know the touch of his lips. And I know how he fucks. My body has never been so alive. I’ve never come so hard in my life. I guess that’s not saying much since he’s the only guy I’ve ever slept with. But even when I fantasized about it in the past, I’ve never come like that.

“Shh,” he soothes me while I lie on my side, my face buried into his shirt in this unfamiliar bedroom. “You’re okay,” he says, rubbing my bare back.

I squint my eyes shut and try to catch my breath, letting him hold me like he cares. “I feel guilty,” I admit softly.

He pulls me away from him and runs his hand down my face, wiping away the tears. “Don’t. Don’t do that to yourself, Blake.”

“I got off.” I swallow the lump in my throat. “I liked it.” Shame washes over me like a heavy wave.

“That’s okay,” he tells me. “It was a fantasy, Blake. I wanted you to enjoy it.”

A small part of me is relieved that I enjoyed it, but the bigger part is ashamed of that. The fact that he took my sight, voice, and restrained me had my body screaming with joy. I laid in the back of the car crying and breathing into that hood, so turned on. I kept hearing Matt’s voice, saying how fucked up I am. How wrong my body was to be enjoying it.

He pulls away, reaching out for the nightstand. Then he’s handing me a bottle of water. “Here, drink this.”

I sit up and take a drink, my hands shaking so bad, I miss my mouth, and some runs down my exposed chest. Taking another, I hand it back to him and rub my tear-streaked face. Lying back down, I sniff, and he settles back down next to me, pulling me close once again, hugging me.

“I’m sorry,” I whisper, not really sure what I’m sorry for exactly. It just feels like the right thing to say to him at the moment.

“Don’t be.” He sighs. “There’s no reason to be sorry. Fantasies don’t hurt anyone, Blake.” Feeling his lips on my hair, he kisses it softly. I close my eyes and let him hold me while I try to calm my breathing and stop crying. It feels like hours, but my body starts to relax. Everything hurts. My body is exhausted. Pulling away from him, I lie on my back and stare up at the ceiling.

“You okay?” he asks, reaching out and rubbing my stomach.

I nod. “Where are we?”

“My house.”

I look over at him, and his emerald eyes are staring at me intently. “Yours?”

“Yeah. I bought it a couple of years ago, but I never get to stay here. I’m always at house of Lords. I thought of bringing you here because I didn’t want to act it out at your apartment. I wanted to take you away from there and give you a new environment. You said in your dream that he drags you off into the woods. I wanted you to use your imagination to see where it would take you. Give you control of where you thought you were going.”

I sit up and place my hand on his shirt and notice he’s still dressed in his clothes. “Thank you,” I tell him. He did something that Matt refused to do. Ryat just listened to me. He didn’t judge me. He asked what I wanted, and then he gave me exactly that.

He lifts my hand to his lips and kisses my knuckles. “How do you feel?”

“Better,” I say truthfully.

“Tell me about it,” he urges. “Is there anything you didn’t like about it?”

I blush, wishing he’d turn the lights off so he couldn’t see my face. “No.”

“Is it something that you want to do again?”

I nod, biting my bottom lip nervously.

He reaches out, pulling it free from my teeth, running the pad of his thumb across it. His eyes follow before they meet mine again. “What would you want done differently?”

“I don’t know.”

“Blake.” He sighs. “I’m more than willing to do what you want, but you have to tell me what that is.”

Looking away from him, I feel tears start to sting my eyes again with shame. “I …” That lump returns, and I can’t seem to swallow it down.

He grips my chin gently and forces me to look over at him. “What?”

“I just don’t want the choice,” I whisper. My body likes to be dominated. However he wants to do that is okay. It’s terrifying but also exciting. To me, giving him the power over me gives me power. It’s freeing. It doesn’t make any fucking sense to me, but that’s what feels the best. I thought I would like the surprise factor, but it ended up being the biggest turn-on.

He nods. “Okay.” Leaning in, he kisses my forehead tenderly before pulling my body back into his. “Did you like the fact that I spoke to you? I wanted to make sure you knew it was me without ruining it for you.”

“I knew it was you before you even spoke,” I tell him.

“Yeah?” He arches a brow. “Well, I’ll take that as a compliment.”

I chuckle and try changing the subject. “Why are you back?”

“I came back early for you,” he answers through a yawn.

My brows rise. “You weren’t even gone for twenty-four hours.”

“I hate New York,” he states.

I don’t mention Matt told me that Ryat will one day be a judge there. I doubt he knows everything. He was probably just lying anyway to put thoughts in my head.

“Are you hungry?” he asks.

“No.” I yawn and stretch out my heavy limbs.

“Get some rest. You must be tired,” he says, pulling away from me. A hint that he’s not coming to bed with me.

“What time is it?” I ask, all of a sudden feeling drained.

He looks at his cell. “Almost two thirty.” Then he bends down and picks up the top sheet. He lays it across the bed and then does the same with the comforter that’s folded over in the corner.

I close my eyes and yawn once again. I’m about to pass the fuck out when I open my eyes to see him walking toward the door. “Hey, Ryat?”

He turns to face me. “Yeah?”

“Thank you,” I say again.

“You don’t have to thank me, little one,” he says, turning off the light and then exiting the room.

I roll over and pull the covers up to my neck and close my eyes, hearing him shut the door as he exits, not giving two fucks about taking a shower right now.

RYAT

SUNDAY NIGHT, I’M standing in the bathroom at the sink brushing my teeth. Spitting out the toothpaste, I turn around and watch Blakely in the bathtub. She’s relaxing back with her head on a white pillow and her eyes closed. Her hair is up in a messy bun. Some pieces have fallen down around her face and are wet. Her left knee is bent, popping out of the bubbles that fill the Jacuzzi tub.

I walk over to the side and sit down on the edge. Placing my hand on her knee, I slide it down to her inner thigh, my hand dipping into the scorching hot water. She jumps, her eyes springing open at the touch. “Were you sleeping?” I ask her.

“No,” she answers through a yawn.

I laugh at that lie. “Come on.” I tap her thigh. “I don’t want you falling asleep in here and drowning.”

“Aw, you do care about me.” She smiles.

“Can’t fuck a dead chick,” I joke. Well, you can, but then again, that’s not a kink I’m into.

She throws some bubbles at me, landing on my shirt. I stand, and she reaches out, grabbing my hand to stop me. “Can we stay here tonight? We can get up extra early in the morning to head back.”

“Sure.” I wasn’t planning on leaving this late anyway. I know she’s tired, and frankly, so am I. Leaving the bathroom, I enter the master suite. I just lie down in bed when my cell goes off on the nightstand. Picking it up, I see it’s a text from Prickett.

Turn on the TV.

Frowning, I pick up the remote next to my phone and point it at the flat screen that hangs on the wall. It comes on, and I don’t even have to change the channel. A news crew stands outside of a home here in Pennsylvania. Police cars, ambulances, and a coroner van are gathered in the large driveway of the three-story, white brick mansion.

“What’s going on?” Blake asks, walking out of the bathroom.

I look over at her dressed in nothing but a short towel, and my first thought is to throw her on the bed and fuck her. But I dismiss it and put my eyes back on the TV. “Not sure,” I answer honestly.

A brunette steps into the camera, holding a mic to her face. “A manhunt has been issued,” she announces. “Behind me, you’ll see the police and FBI are at the Mallory family’s home …”

“Oh, shit,” I whisper, sitting up straighter.

“Who is that?” Blake asks. “You know them?”

I nod in answer.

“All we know right now is that there was forced entry with one fatality …”

“Fuck!” I hiss, my hands going to my head.

“What?” Blake demands. “What’s wrong?”

If it’s who I think it is, heads are about to roll. Gregory Mallory is a very important Lord here in Pennsylvania. With a list a mile long of people who would want him dead. His position has enemies lined up wanting his head.

“Ryat …?” Blake snaps, trying to get my attention to answer her question, but I ignore her.

Three FBI agents exit the front doors of the home and walk over to the reporter. “Shut this down.” You hear one demand to the woman.

“I’m Jane, with News One. We’re allowed to be …”

He cuts her off by taking her mic while the other one slams the camera down onto the ground. The picture goes blurry, and they cut back to the station.

I turn it off.

“Ryat, what’s going on?” Blake demands.

My phone ringing keeps me from having to acknowledge her. I answer when I see it’s my father. “Hello?” I ask, getting out of bed and walking into the living room.

“You see that shit?” he growls.

“Yeah. What the fuck happened?” I demand, catching Blake now standing in the living room at the end of the hallway, arms crossed over her chest, watching me.

“There was a hit out on Gregory. But he wasn’t home—”

“Wait,” I interrupt him. “They said one fatality. Who the hell did they kill?”

“Remy,” he answers.

I fall onto the couch and place my face in my hand. “Fuck!” I sigh. It’s worse than I thought.

“Yeah,” my father agrees.

I pull it away from my ear to look at the screen when it vibrates. It’s a text.

House of Lords. Now!

“I gotta go,” I tell him, not even bothering to wait for a response. Standing, I look at her. “Get dressed. We’re leaving.”

She places her arms out wide, and the towel drops to her feet. “In what? I don’t have anything to wear. You cut my shirt and my underwear.” Arching a brow, she places her hands on her narrow hips.

My eyes take a second to run over the bruises that cover her body in various places along with my teeth marks. She’s got two hickeys—one on her neck, the other on her inner thigh. We’ve spent all weekend here at my cabin doing nothing but fucking, and I’m still hard. “I have clothes you can wear.” I point at the bedroom, ignoring my cock. Now is not the time. We’ve got to go. “Grab a T-shirt and a pair of sweatpants out of my closet. We’re leaving in five minutes.”

Thankfully, she doesn’t argue with me anymore and goes to get dressed.

“Are you going to tell me what’s going on?” she asks the moment we’re in my SUV speeding down the highway to get back to the house of Lords.

“I can’t,” I say honestly.

“Can’t or won’t?” she snaps, getting irritated.

I shift in my seat. “Can’t. I took an oath …”

She snorts. “Matt used to always say that shit. It was a lie then too.”

I give her a quick glance to see she’s glaring out the passenger window. The fact that she even mentioned him pisses me off. “Look, even if I could tell you, I wouldn’t because it’s none of your damn business,” I snap.

“Right!” She looks over at me. “Sometimes I need a reminder that the only reason you’re fucking me is to piss off Matt!”

My hands tighten on the steering wheel. “Blake …”

“So, thanks for that, Ryat,” she adds with bite.

“Blake!” I snap in warning.

She huffs, crossing her arms over her chest and sitting back in her seat.

I turn up “If You Want Love” by NF to drown out my thoughts and anything else she has to say.

_______________

WE’RE WALKING INTO the house of Lords when we run into Sarah and Gunner. She eyes me warily, and I wonder if any rumors are being spread in the house while I’m away regarding Matt and me.

“Where have you two been?” Sarah asks, looking over at Blakely. “You guys have been MIA all weekend.”

“We’ve been staying at the apartment,” she answers her.

“We were just there yesterday.” Sarah looks at Gunner. “I was actually worried. Your room was destroyed. Stuff kicked over. Looked like there was a struggle of some sort.”

Blake’s cheeks flush at the same time Matt walks around the corner. I don’t miss the black eye he has from my knee connecting with his face the last time I saw him. “We went out to my cabin for the weekend,” I answer Sarah’s previous question, not taking my eyes off his until he disappears down another hallway before Blake can even see him.

“We left in a hurry,” Blake jokes.

“Well, I’m glad you guys are back.” Sarah smiles at her.

“Actually, we’re just grabbing a few things, then going back to the apartment,” I inform them.

“Oh.” Her face falls. “I have been texting and calling you all weekend, and you never answered,” she tells her.

Blake frowns, and I look at Gunner. He pretends like he’s not listening and looks away to the grand staircase.

“Hmm,” Blake adds. “I didn’t have anything on my phone from you. Maybe I didn’t have any reception. We were out pretty far.”

I grab Blake’s hand, ending this conversation and pulling her away and down the hall to my room.

After I close the door, I turn to her. “I have to attend a meeting,” I tell her.

She just stares at me, her pretty blue eyes still heated from earlier. She hasn’t spoken directly to me since I snapped at her on the way here.

“Stay in here. I’ll come back when I’m done.” With that, I turn and exit the room to see Gunner and Sarah in the hallway.

“Sarah is going to hang out with Blakely while we’re occupied,” he tells me.

I nod and open my bedroom door for her. Sarah doesn’t even look at me as she enters, and I yank it shut harder than I mean to.

Gunner laughs. “Trouble in paradise already?”

“Let’s get this over with.” I ignore him and shoulder past him.