The Ritual

He laughs softly. “Well, it didn’t feel good.”

“Will I have to get one?”

He sits up, cupping my face. His green eyes search mine. “Why would you think that?”

I shrug. “If the Lords have to have a brand of some kind, I just figured the Lady does too.”

“No—”

“What if I want one?” I ask softly.

Silence falls over us and I look away from his stare. My eyes dropping to his brand.

“Blake,” His hand comes up and slides into my hair, forcing me to meet his eyes again. “Why would you want one?”

Licking my lips, I answer honestly. The alcohol I had earlier helping me out. “I want something to show my devotion. To prove that I’m all in.”

“You do.” He frowns, his free hand going to my left hand and lifting it to kiss my wedding ring.

“That’s to you.” I sigh.

“That’s good enough for me.” He states.

Pulling away from him, I stand, wrapping the blanket tighter around myself and go to walk out of the living room to our bedroom but he jumps up and grabs my arm, stopping me.

“Hey?” He says softly, “I don’t need you to prove yourself to me. Do you understand?”

“You did before.” I remind him.

“That was then.” Letting go of me he runs a hand through his hair. “This is now.”

“And?” My eyes fall to it again. The round circle with three lines through it. I know it represents power. Which a Lady doesn’t have much of.

“And I know how you feel about me.”

My eyes look up at his. I feel stupid for thinking of it. Of course, a Lady doesn’t get the same mark of a Lord. We’re beneath them, right? Most Lords have arranged marriages. We’re disposable. “It was stupid.” I say, feeling dumb. “I just thought … I wanted to prove to you that I love all of you. Even the part that takes you away from me.” At his silence I lick my lips nervously and add. “You once said that you chose this life. I wanted to show you that I choose it too.”

I go to walk away but he wraps an arm around me from behind, my back now to his front. Pulling my hair off my shoulder and to my back, his lips gently kiss my neck, right behind my ear. “Lie on the floor.” Comes his command.

My heart picks up, my breathing coming quicker at the sound of his voice. Without hesitation, I pull away and do as I’m told.

He walks over to the fireplace and grabs the tongs off the hook and then removes his Lords ring from his right hand. My heart starts to pound in my chest when I watch him place it on the end and over the fire, heating it up.

CHAPTER FIFTY-FIVE

RYAT

I TRIED TO talk myself out of it. The fact that she wants the Lord’s crest on her body, makes me proud. It’s just another way of me to claim her. Another way to show she’s mine. One that won’t fade over time or wash off in the shower with water and soap like that Sharpie that I had used in the basement of Blackout.

She lays by the fire, the blanket wrapped around her chest, hands gripping the material. As much as she wants this, she’s still nervous. Which is understandable.

“Remove the blanket.”

She opens it up, showing me her naked body and I refrain from growling at the sight of my naked wife. She still has her Halloween makeup on, showing me the fake blood on her neck and upside down cross between her breasts.

Pulling my ring from the fire, I walk over to her and kneel beside her. Then I reach over and pick up her thong from earlier. “Put these in your mouth. Bite on the material.” I order.

Grabbing them from my hand, she does as I say. Placing my left hand on her chest, I hold it down. “Interlock your fingers behind your head and take in a deep breath.”

She props her head up with her hands and my eyes drop to her body, watching her chest expand and I don’t give her any warning, pressing my ring into her skin, right below her left breast on her ribcage. She arches her back, crying into her gag. Her body starts shaking while I hold it there for a few seconds before pulling it away.

Tossing the tongs and my ring to the side, I remove my hand that was pinning her down. Pulling on her body, I yank her up and into my arms, removing her underwear. Her eyes are tightly shut, and tears run down her face. “You did good, Blake.” I tell her.

Her long dark lashes flutter open and her watery eyes meet mine.

Pressing my lips to hers, I taste her tears. She opens up for me and I deepen the kiss, readjusting both of us on the floor I place myself between her legs, spreading them wide, now that she lies underneath me. “So, fucking good.” I praise her and she whimpers, her hands going to my hair, her nails scraping my scalp making me moan.