The Ritual - Page 51

I swallow and try to calm my breathing. “It’s wrong,” I whisper. After that, I told myself that I’d never have that dream again, and if I did, I’d fight, scream, bite, and run faster. But I did none of those things this time. I let him catch me, and I was going to enjoy it if I hadn’t woken up too soon.

“No, it’s not,” he argues. “It’s just a fantasy. Everyone has those. And that’s normal.”

“It’s not the violence I crave,” I tell him honestly. “Although I like it rough, I think it’s more of the idea of a man being so overcome with desire for me that he can’t be stopped. And the fact I have no say over what he does. The feeling of having no control makes me feel in control. I let him catch me even though I run. I let him do it even though I fight him,” I ramble, trying to get it all out. Matt didn’t want to hear how I felt, and he never mentioned it again.

Ryat’s eyes search mine, and I look away, again feeling shame.

“I know, it sounds stupid,” I whisper.

“No, it doesn’t.”

“It’s just hard to explain.” I lick my wet lips.

“I think it makes perfect sense.”

Biting my bottom lip, I add, “I think the man was you.”

He adjusts himself on his side and props his head up in his hand. “Why is that?”

“Because up until now, he’s never had a face.” It’s just always been a blur. Or I just never remembered it when I woke up.

“And you saw me this time?” he asks, his green eyes searching my face. He doesn’t look disgusted in the least with what I just told him.

“No. He was wearing a mask. The same one you have,” I answer softly. I’ve only ever seen Ryat wearing the mask that one night at the house of Lords party, and at that time, I didn’t even know it was him.

He sighs, his free hand lazily running up and down on my arm, “Well, after what we did at the house of Lords party, when I had a mask on ... then you were unconscious when I touched you here in your apartment … I can see that. It makes sense you’d put me in this guy’s place. I’ve dominated you. And that’s what you like.”

My cheeks flush, and he cups my face. “It’s okay, Blake. You’re okay. And I’d be more than willing to give you what you want.”

My heart picks up at his words, my eyes widening. “What do you mean?”

“Tell me what you want, along with your limits, and I’ll do it. Whatever you’re comfortable with.”

“You mean my fantasy?” I ask slowly.

He nods.

My thighs clench at the thought. So many possibilities. Scenarios. I’ve only ever had that same one over and over. “I’ll think about it,” I tell him, still a little uncomfortable talking about it. I’m not sure I will feel okay telling him what I want. Or what I think I want. I’m not even sure what it is exactly.

RYAT

I KISS HER forehead and pull her body into mine. I’m not going to lie to her, but her fantasy turns me on. I had a feeling she’d like being dominated, but this is a fantasy on a whole new level. One that I’m more than happy to fulfill for her.

Matt is pathetic and knows nothing when it comes to sex. Three years without it and the bastard didn’t do any research? He never once thought that maybe his girlfriend was craving something that he should look into?

No woman asks to be raped—it’s a fantasy about submission. She wants to be dominated in way that she knows she’ll enjoy it. It’s the act of the coercion.

I’m not sure when the dreams started and I’m no sex psychologist, but maybe it was the fact that Matt turned her down so many times that she had to force herself to enjoy what her body craved. I mean, I loved when she drank the GHB and gave herself over to me, not knowing what I was going to do to her. Hell, she even thought I actually took her virginity at the time.

To her, that was a way of giving herself over to something that she knew she wouldn’t be able to control. But it was still her choice.

Matt tried to rape our assignments wife, but he put Blake down for fantasizing about it? That doesn’t make any sense. Although one is nothing like the other. He told her she was fucked up? I know Lords who prefer to watch other men fuck their chosens. I’d never allow that but that doesn’t mean it’s wrong. Fuck, maybe it means I’m insecure, and that’s completely fine. That’s my issue, not anyone else’s. Who the fuck cares? As long as all parties are consenting, then do whatever the fuck you want.

Tags: Shantel Tessier Dark
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