The Ritual

I’d set the world on fire, including myself, if it meant saving her.

BLAKELY

THIS IS REAL!

This is what I wanted. All along. Acceptance, love, understanding. What if he’s right, and this is all we get? And when you die, you’re just … gone. Eventually not even a memory to anyone.

I can live with that because I have him.

Wrapping my arms around his neck, I pull his face down to mine. His hands slap the wall, leaving the smallest space between our lips. My eyes take in his sharp jaw, the curve of his lips and green eyes—they look different now that I know who he really is—sexier in a way that has my blood pumping.

I know who you are, Ryat Alexander Archer. I’m not afraid of what I see, nor am I ashamed.

His dark hair is wet, and some of the longer pieces have fallen down across his face into his eyes as the water hits us. Leaning forward, he goes to press his lips to mine, but I pull back just enough to meet his eyes again and whisper, “I love you, Ryat.”

His lips capture mine, and I open up for him, letting him take control. It’s passionate yet needy at the same time. The water falling down over us makes our lips slippery, the kiss messy. His teeth hit mine, and I moan, wanting them to bite into my skin, to fucking scar me so I’ll forever have a reminder of tonight.

I thought I knew what love would be like marrying Matt. Not what I dreamed of but tolerable. Ryat has shown me that there is more out there. I’m no longer settling for something; I’m taking it.

One of his hands tangles into my wet hair, and I lift my left leg to wrap around his hip.

“Fuck, Blake,” he growls, pulling his face from mine. His lips drop to my neck, and I tilt my head to the side. “I love you so goddamn much.”

I suck in a shaky breath. “I love …”

His lips capture mine again, and his hand falls between our bodies. Then he’s sliding his hard dick into me. Knocking the back of my head into the wall, I gasp when he stretches me open. I’m still sensitive from earlier, but I’m not going to turn him down. Not now. Not ever.

Ryat Archer is a killer, and all I can think of is I wish I could prove my love for him the way he has for me. He deserves that much. Blood for blood. He’s spilled so much for me. I’m not afraid to bleed for him.

I’m gasping, my hands digging into his skin, feeling his muscles tense while his fingers dig into my ass, and he lifts me off my feet.

“Yes,” I gasp as he pulls out and shoves his dick into me, my back hitting the wall. “Oh, God.” My eyes close, and he picks up his pace, fucking me how I like it.

Water from the sprayers slips between my parted lips, and I swallow it, trying to catch my breath. If this is what it feels like to drown, I don’t want to be above water.

The bathroom fills with his grunts and the sound of our bodies slapping. My legs tighten around his hips, and I lock my ankles, clinging to his slippery skin. I can’t get him close enough, deep enough. I want this man to consume me. Take what little pieces I had left of myself and make them his.

I’m not the type of woman who needs to know who I am. All I need to know is who I am with him. And I know exactly who that is—his. Nothing else fucking matters.

He slams into me, his dick hitting that spot that always makes my body fucking burn from the inside out. My moans grow louder, my breathing heavier.

He yanks me from the wall, only to slam me into the other one opposite us, forcing a cry from my lips.

“That’s what I wanted to hear,” he growls. His mouth goes to my neck, and I feel him sucking on my skin.

“Ryat!” I shout his name, my heart already racing, the fire starting. He goes harder, faster, knowing I’m right there. Closing my eyes, I let the wave wash over me, knowing that I’m already drowning. Why not let it wash me away?

_______________

I LIE IN bed, listening to the pounding music below us. It’s not that bad but definitely noticeable. “I need to go back to the cabin,” I tell him.

“You’re not going back there,” he states, entering the bedroom with a towel wrapped around his hips. Water still runs down over his sculpted chest and abs. His arms are red from my nails digging into them in the shower.

“I have to get my books for classes tomorrow.” It’s Monday, and I have to get back to Barrington. Fuck, I’m going to be so far behind. By now, I’m failing everything. I’ve missed so much work, only for it not to have been worth it. At the time, I didn’t care to go back, but that’s when I was going to live my life on the run. That’s not the case anymore.