The Ritual

“I’m going to fucking fill you with cum again, Blake. Every fucking time your pussy will leak with it, wetting your underwear. A reminder I was there and that it belongs to me.”

I understand his need to dominate me after what Cindy told him about Matt watching me. Hell, that’s why I wanted him. To remind him that I’m his wife. That no matter how much she wanted him, he belongs to me. But I’m not on birth control. I didn’t take it with me when I ran. And I was gone for three weeks. I tried to remind him of that earlier in the bedroom, but he didn’t allow me to speak. “Ryat, I’m not …” His hand tightens around my throat, his fingers digging into either side of my neck, this time cutting off my words again and my air.

He looks down at me, a smile tugging at his lips. “I know, Blake, and I don’t fucking care.”

I’d moan if I was able to, but his hand around my throat prevents that. He picks up his pace, and my hands fall from the edge, my eyes growing heavy from lack of oxygen. I let go, letting him have his way with me. I trust him with my life.

He thrusts so hard that my head falls off the edge, and I see an upside-down image of Cindy’s body slumped in the chair. Her face wet from her tears, and hair a tangled mess. Her body starts to become spotty as dizziness takes over.

My eyes fall shut, and the blood rushes in my ears, blocking out the sound of his grunts. My body is floating, rising like a balloon. Higher and higher to the sky. The pain making it even more pleasurable and the choice to freely give him control.

It’s addicting, like I imagine a drug would be. I feel giddy, almost high. My pussy clenches around him, and he hisses in a breath when my body reacts, and I come all over his dick. That wave of heat rushes over me, and he lets go of my throat.

Sucking in a breath, I start coughing but it doesn’t slow him down. I feel a rush of blood and loss of the little focus I had left. He thrusts into me one more time, and I feel him pulsing. He comes inside me, just like he said he was going to do.

CHAPTER FORTY-TWO

RYAT

I LOOK DOWN and watch my semi-hard cock slip out of her as cum drips from her wet cunt. I run my fingers through it and then shove them into her, making her moan. “Gotta make sure she gets every drop,” I say, and she rocks her hips back and forth on my fingers. She’s such a needy slut for me.

“Ryat,” she coughs out my name, still trying to catch her breath while her body shakes uncontrollably.

“Shh,” I tell her, pulling them out. Leaning over, I kiss her flat stomach. She tangles her fingers in my hair, and I kiss her soft skin again, trailing down to her pussy. “I can’t wait to see you pregnant, Blake,” I whisper against her skin, my tongue licking her cunt, tasting her and myself.

She whimpers at my words.

I’ve never really thought about kids. I mean, sure, I knew I’d have them someday. But ever since she’s returned, it’s all I think about. Her swollen belly and enlarged tits. I want Blakely Rae Archer pregnant with my child, and I’m going to get it.

Throwing her shaking legs over my shoulders, I kneel on the concrete floor at the edge of the table and stick my tongue inside her. Keeping my eyes open, I watch her squirm before me. Her hands grip her breasts, and she pinches her hard nipples.

My girl likes it to hurt a little. That’s what gets her off.

I don’t stop. I could watch her come over and over and never get tired of it. I could say it’s a control thing, but it’s more than that. It’s the fact that I’m the only one who has ever seen her like this. So vulnerable and unable to control her cravings.

She’s become my obsession, but I know I’ve also become hers.

Her body thrashes on the table, and I reach around her legs, my thumb playing with her clit while her hips ride my face. She arches her back, her breathing picking up once again, and her thighs clench down around my face, holding it in place, coming for a second time.

I suck on her cunt like it’s my own personal honey-flavored sucker, filling my mouth with her sweet taste. Her body sags to the table, her legs falling off my shoulders. Pulling away, I lean over the table, standing over her body, and grip her face. She looks up at me through heavy eyes. They’re still unfocused from my hand around her throat, restricting her air. Squeezing her cheeks, she understands what I want and the tip of her pink tongue darts out, slowly running across her lips before she parts them for me, opening wide. Leaning down, I spit into her mouth.