The Ritual

I lift my hands to remove it. “What …?”

The material falls to my feet, and my arms are grabbed and yanked behind my back. Then I’m bent over the side of the bed. I’d scream, but my breath gets caught in my throat. He holds my wrists crossed with one hand while I hear the sound of metal before something cold is tightened around each wrist.

“Stay,” he growls before I feel the loss of his body.

I’m panting, my body shaking while I wait here like an obedient dog, pulling on what I can only think to be handcuffs. Seconds later, that material is placed back over my eyes, taking away my sight. It’s tied in a knot, securing it in its place.

He grabs me by my hair, yanking me to stand, and I cry out, surprised it didn’t rip the blindfold off. “You can take it off when I’m done with you.” His voice is rougher than it was a second ago. Almost angry.

It makes my legs tighten and pussy throb. I moan in acceptance for whatever the stranger wants to do with me. My body has been screaming in silence for years for someone to touch it. To have their way with it. I can’t satisfy it. Not like I crave. Imagine having to scratch an itch that you can’t reach no matter how hard you try. Or trying to scream underwater for help, knowing that no one can hear you.

Matt turned me down countless times. I once tried to seduce him on the golf course, and he yelled at me when we got back to his parents’, telling me it was embarrassing how I rubbed my ass against him while his friends were only a few feet away. No one was paying any attention to us, and it’s not like I was naked. I was wearing a skirt. All he had to do was lift it up and touch me.

The man slaps my ass, making me jump and cry out. “Answer me,” he demands in my ear.

Did he ask me a question? I try to rack my drunk brain but come up with nothing, so I just say, “Yes.”

His hands come around the front of my jeans, and he unzips them.

“Yes,” I repeat again just in case he didn’t hear me the first time as the song changes to “Guest Room” by Echos. I know I’m going to agree to whatever the fuck this stranger wants from me. Hoping he can show me what my body was meant to do because I feel like I’ve been missing something.

RYAT

I TOSS HER onto the bed, lying on her back. She cries out when she lands on her restrained wrists. I yank my mask off and drop it to the floor, then I remove her heels before pulling her jeans down her legs.

“Yes.” She moans, arching her back.

I remove her underwear as well and place them in my pocket. She won’t be getting those back. Crawling onto the bed, I spread her legs while running my hands up her thighs. They shake, and she’s panting. I imagine her like this with Matt, and my fingers dig into her skin. I hope the bastard saw me following her off the dance floor.

Whimpering, she gets my attention, and I let up on her. Spreading her legs wider, I lean down and look over her pussy. It’s clean-shaven and glistening already, making my mouth start to water instantly. Running my thumb over it, I spread her open and lower my face, licking her pretty cunt.

Her hips jump, and I hold them down in place.

“Oh, God …” She trails off.

She’s wet, so I slip a finger into her easily. It’s warm and so fucking tight. I pause as Gunner’s words come back to me from the other day. “Blakely,” I say, pushing a second one into her, making her hiss in a breath.

She arches her neck, lips parted, and whimpers. “Yeah?” She’s too drunk to even realize I called her by her name.

“Have you ever been fucked?” I ask her, removing my fingers and pushing them into her again while twisting them to where they turn inside her and reach upward slowly. I’m taking my time because I don’t want to hurt the poor girl. Not yet. But once she’s my chosen, all bets are off.

This is what the oath is for—restraint. It’s about thinking things through and outliving our opponent. Wear them down. Show no mercy. We are stronger than them.

“No.” She bucks her hips.

“Fuck!” I growl before sinking my teeth into her thigh and making her flinch on a soft cry. My cock is so fucking hard, it’s pressing painfully against the inside of my jeans. For three years, I’ve done what was asked of me. I can’t break that oath now. I just have to wait a little longer.