The Ritual

My free hand goes between our bodies, and I slide my cock into her, making her hiss in a breath. My lips find hers and I don’t let them go. I keep them captive while my hips move in and out of her—owning her.

I want her to know that she didn’t give herself over to me for nothing. I will take from her, but I will also give her everything that I have. As much as I own her, I fucking need her. “I love you.” I pull my lips from hers long enough to speak then they’re back on hers, taking her breath away.

BLAKELY

IT’S BEEN SIX weeks since Halloween night. It was eventful to say the least. Watched Tyson fuck a woman in the woods. Had my husband brand me like I was a piece of cattle he owns. But I don’t regret it. I wanted him to understand just how far my love for him went.

Things have been going great. We’ve fallen into a routine that almost makes me feel like we’re normal. Going to the movies, out to dinner. It’s like we’re a real couple that doesn’t live in a secret society. Which is crazy since we’re actually husband and wife. Sometimes I have to remind myself that he’s my husband because it just feels too good to be true.

Ryat unlocks the front door to the cabin. I step into the foyer but come to a stop when I see Matt sitting in the middle of the brown leather couch in the living room. Leaning back, he looks relaxed, his arms fanned across the top of the cushions.

“We’ve got dinner tomorrow night with Ty,” Ryat reminds me as he enters behind me. “Don’t let me forget to get that bottle of scotch that he likes.”

If I wasn’t so terrified, I’d blush at the fact we have plans with a man I openly watched have sex. Instead, I swallow. “Ryat?” I manage to say his name through the knot in my throat, looking over my shoulder at him locking the front door.

“It’s a party.” I hear Matt say cheerfully.

Ryat looks up, also coming to a stop beside me. His eyes trained on Matt. “What the fuck are you doing here?” Ryat demands.

How did he get past the cameras?

Matt leans forward, placing his elbows on his knees. “Came to get what’s mine.” His eyes go to me.

I shake my head, my hand unable to hold my purse, and it drops to my feet. “No.” The single word cracks, slipping through my lips.

Ryat places his arm on my chest to push me behind him, but Matt jumps to his feet, pulling a gun from the waistband of his jeans, and points it at me. “Don’t move, or I’ll shoot her,” he warns.

“Matt,” Ryat growls his name, lifting his hands out in front of him. “Let her go. This is between us. I’m the one you’re mad at. It’s me you want.”

“No … please …”

“He’s right, Blakely. I wanted you. But you fucking married him!” he shouts, the gun shaking in his hand. “And as much as that disgusts me …” My body trembles, but I can’t move. No matter how loud my mind screams to. I can’t leave Ryat. “If I can’t have you, then no one can.”

I’m hit with what feels like a Mack truck. The force knocks me back into the front door. My body shakes like an earthquake as loud bangs go off in the distance. I can’t breathe. My body’s being crushed. Lifting my arms, I feel soft material. I open my eyes and see a white blur in front of me. Looking up, I meet a set of green eyes. “Ryat … what?”

Realization returns that Ryat is the one crushing me to the door. His body pinning me to it. I feel wetness against my chest. “What?” I look down, and my T-shirt is soaking up blood.

“You’re okay,” he assures me, sucking in a ragged breath. “You’re okay,” he repeats like he’s trying to convince both of us.

I look at his white shirt, and I see the blood covering it. “Oh, God.” I gasp. “Ryat.” He’s been shot.

“Blake.” He reaches up and grabs my face, his hands feeling cold and clammy. “I’m sorry …”

Tears sting my eyes while I try and catch my breath. “Don’t ... Don’t do this.”

“I love you, Blake.” He whispers.

“No. No. No. Don’t!” I shout, gripping his bloodstained shirt. “Why?” Why would he do this to us? To me?

“You think I’d kill for you, but not die for you?” He shakes his head gently. “Silly girl.” His words are getting softer. I can barley hear them over the blood rushing in my ears.

“Ryat …” I sob.

“You deserved better,” he whispers.

Tears fall down my cheeks and I lick my wet lips.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t better.”