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The Ritual: Chapter 11

BLAKELY

M ONDAY AFTERNOON, I enter the apartment and walk into my bedroom. It’s been a long day. I’m exhausted and want nothing more than to lie down in bed and go to sleep. I didn’t sleep all weekend. Instead, I lay in bed thinking over what Ryat said to me in the library Friday night.

He’s right about several things. But he was wrong about me only wanting to be his because of Matt. I’ve let him dictate my life for too long. For what? A pretend relationship? The thought of being Ryat’s chosen is only that—being his.

Removing the hoodie, I go to toss it onto the bed but pause when I spot a small black box already sitting on it.

“Sarah?” I call out. As far as I know, she’s still in class.

That wasn’t there when I left this morning. Walking over to it, I open it up to see a note that says drink me sitting next to a small vial of clear liquid. I’ve never seen anything like it before. I’ve popped pills back in high school with Sarah but never done anything liquid other than alcohol. Something tells me this isn’t vodka.

There’s also a small picture underneath it. I pick it up and flip it over. It’s of me in the library—the same one that Ryat sent me before I found him standing in the library. My head snaps up, doing a quick look around my room. My heart accelerates, and I stare back down at it in my hand. “Hello?” I call out again. “Is someone here?”

No answer.

“Ryat?” I ask, swallowing nervously. He took that picture, so he had to have left this box. How did he get in? Did he ask Sarah to help him?

I jump when my cell rings. Dropping the vial and picture back onto the bed, I grab my phone and hit answer. “Hello?” I say, trying to calm my racing heart.

“You embarrassed him?” my mother snaps in my ear.

“What?” I ask, doing another quick look around my room. I walk to my closet and look inside it, but it’s all clear.

“Matt,” she growls. “Kimberly said you embarrassed him in front of his peers on Friday.”

“I’m not talking about this, Mom,” I say, going into my bathroom. Still alone.

“I don’t know what the hell is happening there, but know this, Blakely Rae. You will not mess this up for the family. You will get married to Matt. Keep this up, and it’ll be much sooner than expected.” She hangs up.

I come back to my room and plop down on the side of my bed.

The vial sits next to me, and tears fill my eyes. I can’t stop it. I can’t control it. My life has never been mine. Why did I think it would be now? I will be Mrs. Blakely Winston no matter what I do. The thought is crippling, knowing I’ll live a lie in a loveless marriage. I did have feelings for Matt. It took me a while, but I was okay with spending forever with him.

Now? I despise him. I’ll never respect him, and I’ll never willingly marry him. My mother will have to drag me down the aisle if that’s the case.

Ryat? Do I think his sudden interest in me has to do with Matt? Absolutely. Do I care? No. As far as I’m concerned, Matt can kiss my ass. If he can do whatever he wants, so can I. And that includes letting Ryat have his way with me.

Making up my mind, I pop the top off the vial and toss back the odorless and soapy tasting liquid, drinking it like the note said.

Fuck it!


RYAT

I ENTER HER apartment, knowing that she’s home alone. I made sure of it. Pushing her bedroom door open, I find her lying on the bed. She’s on her back, her hands up by her head. Eyes closed and breathing deeply. Passed out.

She took the GHB.

I figured she would. People in our world are always looking for a way to escape reality. I needed another taste of her, and there are rules for a reason.

Walking over to the side of the bed, I pull the covers off her to find she had changed into an oversized T-shirt before it kicked in. I fist the material in my hands, thinking it belongs to her cheating ex. Yanking it up, I see she’s got on a pair of black lace underwear. Letting go of the shirt, I place my hand on her flat stomach and slide the tips of my fingers into the fabric. Teasing myself.

My cock is hard, straining against my zipper. I want to fuck her so bad. Ever since I saw her sprawled out on the floor, I wanted to take her dark hair in my hands and shove my dick down her throat and make her pretty blue eyes cry.

The rules of the ritual are simple.

The chosen must offer herself. She has shown me interest by showing up at the party. If there was any doubt what she was doing there—my bedroom proved she wanted something. Even if it was just revenge on Matt. I’ll take that. That’s something I can use.

Typically, the chosen one and the Lord know each other. They’ve been friends, or they’ve dated. Few instances are like Blakely and me—when the Lord is forced to pick a certain chosen one. There are women at Barrington who would kill to be a chosen. Serving a Lord is an honor for them. Matt has kept her in the dark for a reason. He didn’t want her to know what was going on. He thought it didn’t matter, and she was a sure thing for him. Now that’s no longer a possibility. So, his reasons for keeping her in the dark have changed.

I wouldn’t say she would have been my first choice because I never thought of her like that. Is she hot? Yeah. But I knew she was off-limits. Even after I was given the order, I had reservations. That was until I started planting myself in her life. I’ve been following her for several weeks now. Then after the little taste she gave me—I’ve been salivating, wanting more. If I had revealed myself to her in my bedroom that night, she wouldn’t have allowed me to touch her.

If the chosen one accepts, she is yours until you no longer have use for her. She won’t remember that motherfucker’s name after I have my way with her.

Slowly, I hook my fingers into her underwear and pull them down her tan legs, letting my knuckles graze her smooth skin. Gripping her thighs, I push them apart and crawl onto the bed to kneel between them. I look over her shaved pussy, bringing the fabric to my face. I inhale, my cock jerking in my pants. Fuck, I need to be inside her, but that can’t happen tonight. Not yet.

The rules are clear, but they don’t say anything about playing with her. They allow us just enough to hang ourselves. The Lords are always testing us.

I throw the underwear to the floor and slide my hands up the inside of her thighs to her cunt. I bite my lip, spreading her lips open for me. “Goddamn,” I whisper, slipping a finger inside her.

She’s not wet, but I didn’t expect her to be. Bringing my finger to my mouth, I suck on it up to my knuckle and then slide it back in, gently testing the waters while my eyes go to her face.

Her head is tilted to the left, her dark hair covering her pillow, and her breathing remains unfazed. I reach up with my free hand and shove her shirt up farther to expose her chest to me. I smile at the fact she’s not wearing a bra. Her breasts are fucking amazing. Round and firm, they fit in my hand perfectly with pretty pink nipples and small areolas.

Looking back down at her pussy, it’s getting wetter. I remove my finger and add another one. She still doesn’t move.

My girl has proven that I own her, and I can’t wait to show her just what that means.

I start to get more and more aggressive. Her head moves to the other side, and a whimper escapes her lips. I didn’t give her very much GHB because of her small size. I didn’t want her to experience too many side effects. I just needed her to be drowsy and impaired to the point I could play with her. Plus, it can increase an urge for sex.

She arches her back for me, her lips parting, and I watch the way her nipples harden as her pussy tightens around my fingers.

I readjust myself on the bed, placing my left hand by her head. I lean all my weight on it while forcing a third finger into her tight cunt. My cock twitches with anticipation to be inside her. To be the first there. To own her.

Her breath catches, and I gently kiss the corner of her lips. “Beautiful.”

“Ryat.” She moans.

“Yeah, Blake. It’s me,” I tell her, and she whimpers. Even drugged and only half-conscious, she knows I’m the one touching her.

I begin to finger-fuck her roughly while my thumb plays with her clit. Her body rocks back and forth, making her tits bounce and the bed squeak. She lets out a cry when her pussy clamps down, and she comes all over my fingers.

Something about having her like this—having total control over her body—is very powerful. Knowing she willingly took something I gave her without any knowledge of what it was. She’s craving to be owned, to be dominated, to be mine!

I stop, and her eyes remain closed. Bringing my fingers to her mouth, I rub them over her parted lips, smearing her cum across them like icing. “Soon, little one,” I tell her before I stick them in my own mouth, licking them clean. Tasting that fucking honey that I’ve been craving after she gave herself to me in my bedroom.

Pushing off the bed, I move to a sitting position between her shaking legs. I reach down and grab the collar of the oversized shirt and rip it down the middle. “I’ll burn this,” I say to myself, pulling her arms out of it, knowing that I’m one step closer to owning her and erasing any trace of Matt.

Reaching into my back pocket, I pull out the card and lay it on her nightstand. Now I wait.


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