The Ritual

“I don’t understand,” I whisper over her sobs. “Why would he tell me to come find him, knowing you were here with me?”

No one answers. Instead, Ryat shoves all her stuff off the table, and it bounces off the concrete floor, making her flinch. Silence falls over the room, and I’m pretty sure she’s holding her breath right now.

He slowly turns around, leaning against it once again. Crossing his arms over his chest, he narrows his green eyes on hers. “One chance. How did you know she was here tonight?”

She bows her head, her shoulders sagging in defeat. “Matt called me and said that she was back in town. He knew you two were at the house of Lords, and if I was going to have any chance with you, this was it.”

“Meaning?” he growls.

She lifts her head, her watery eyes pleading with him to have mercy on her, but even I know she’s not going to get it. “Meaning, I was going to have to get rid of her. But I didn’t …”

He pushes off the table, stalking over to her.

“No, Ryat …” she screams, her body thrashing in the chair. “Please, you have to understand…”

He silences her when he walks behind the chair and wraps the rope from her bag around her neck. He pulls it tightly, making her struggle in the chair, her hands clenching and unclenching. Her hips lift while she tries to fight the rope cutting off her air.

He bends down, his lips near her ear while his green eyes are on mine. My breathing picks up when he whispers to her, “Look at my wife, Cindy. I want her to be the last thing you see.”

I hate that I’m turned on right now. That the smallest piece of me understands he’s about to bring hell down on anyone who wants to harm me. I should feel for her, but I don’t. She knew that I was in her way of getting what she wanted. And she was going to do whatever it took to get him.

A part of me can’t blame her. I’d do the same.

Her fight grows weaker, her face drains of color, and her lips turn blue. I watch her eyes roll into the back of her head, and her body sags while he holds the rope in place, taking her life. The second one that I know of, for me.

I want to ask how many have to die in order for me to live, but if Ryat asked me that question, I’d say as many as needed.

He undoes the rope from around her neck, and her lifeless body just slumps in the chair. Walking over to the table, he tosses it onto it. “Go to the house. I’ll be there in a minute,” he orders, his back toward me.

“I refuse to take orders from you anymore, Ryat.” I manage to say, squaring my shoulders. My husband just showed me who he really is. I need to show him who I am.

He lets out a growl and spins around. “Blake …”

I rush over to him, my hands going to his face, and I lean up on my tiptoes, slamming my lips to his, cutting off whatever bullshit he was about to tell me. It doesn’t matter. There are situations where words have more impact on someone, and this is not one of them.

He doesn’t hesitate. His hands grip my thighs, and he lifts me. Spinning me around, he sets my ass down on the table.

Pulling away, I throw my head back, and he trails kisses down my neck where his teeth sink into my sensitive skin, making me shiver. “Ryat,” I breathe.

“Fuck, Blake,” he groans, ripping my shirt open, exposing my breasts to him. “Fuck, you’re perfect.” His hand grips my left breast, and he squeezes it, making me whimper. “Lie down,” he orders, slapping my thigh, and it’s one that I don’t mind following.

Laying my back on the cold metal table, I shiver when he yanks my shorts and underwear down my legs and tosses them over his shoulder. Spreading my legs with his, he steps into me and unzips his jeans. When he pulls his cock out, he’s already hard, and my mind wonders if it’s because of Cindy or me. Did what he did to her turn him on? Or is it the fact that I’m turned on by what he did?

“You, Blake!” Ryat growls. “It’s always fucking you.” He adds as if reading my mind before he pushes into me, spreading my already sensitive pussy wide to accommodate his size, and I cry out. His hand comes up and wraps around my throat but doesn’t cut off my air.

“You’re still wet from my cum when I fucked you earlier,” he states, his hips slamming into me.

My hands drop to the table, and I reach out, grabbing the edge on either side of us to hold us in place.