The Ritual

He’s hungry.

They tell me everything that I was wondering. I know what we did in the woods was just a sample of what he wants from me.

“Take a shower.” His eyes look over my cum-covered, makeup-smeared face and then down over my body. “Get cleaned up.” Then he walks out, shutting me inside.

He didn’t tell me to hurry, so I take my time. The water hurts my wrists, but it’s not unbearable. I stand under the center sprayer and just enjoy the warm water before washing my hair with his shampoo. Then I use his bodywash, and it makes me wonder if this is why he brought me here. One more way to claim me. It’s hard to deny a man if you bathe in his scent.

Turning off the water, I exit the shower and dry off with a white towel I found hanging on a hook, being careful with my wrists. Looking around, I realize I don’t have anything to put on, but I have a feeling that’s on purpose.

I open the cabinet under one of the sinks and find mouthwash. Unscrewing the lid, I throw some back. I swish it around before spitting it in the sink. I’ve swallowed water that had no telling what was in it and cum. Multiple times. I’d like to brush my teeth, but mouthwash will do for now.

Taking in a deep breath, I open the door and step out into his bedroom. It’s what I would imagine a guy like Ryat to have—the dark walls are bare, and the bed is covered in black sheets, a black comforter, and two pillows with matching pillowcases. One tall dresser and one long dresser are dark gray. There’s no TV or mirror hanging. I never paid attention last time I was in here. Too drunk and also blindfolded.

He’s over by the long dresser with his back to me. He’s still wearing his wet clothes, and I see the way his shirt sticks to his back and arms. You can see every outline of muscle. They tense as he moves, digging around for something.

I clear my throat, and he shoves the drawer shut. Turning around, his tongue comes out, and he licks his lips while his green eyes look me over. “Drop the towel,” he orders, and my heart accelerates.

I reach up and untuck it from my underarms and let it fall to my feet. I already know he’s seen all of me. I swallowed that liquid, changed my clothes, crawled into bed, and woke up naked hours later. He had undressed me.

He walks over, his eyes on my breasts. Coming to a stop, he reaches out and cups my right one, and I moan as he squeezes it. He’s in no way gentle, but I love it. Whenever Matt and I would mess around, he’d be soft. I always felt like I wanted more.

Ryat lets go and slaps the side of it. Making the skin sting and the sound bounce off the walls in the room.

I jump back, gasping as a shock like electricity runs straight to my pussy, making it pulse and raise my hands to cover them. A cruel smile spreads across his face, knowing exactly what it did to me. Reaching behind, he pulls the handcuffs out of his back pocket, and I whimper at the sight of them. The cuts they left on my wrists start to throb once again.

“Put your hands down to your sides, or they’ll go behind your back.”

A choice. Willingly or forcefully. Why do I want him to force me? He arches a brow at my hesitation and steps closer to me, but at the last second, I decide to lower them to my sides.

“You’re such a good girl,” he whispers lovingly as he tosses the cuffs to the bed.

A weird sense of disappointment washes over me that I chickened out. He said he would hurt me, and I want that. If there’s no pain, then how do you know you’re alive?

“Aren’t you?” he asks. Lifting his hand to run his knuckles over the tops of my breast, he forces my thoughts elsewhere. My nipples harden as they travel lower over them.

I want to be his good girl, but in a bad way. “Yes,” I breathe. My body has never felt so alive. So needy for something that it’s already had. I didn’t get off when he fucked me. But I have a feeling that was the point. It was a show of ownership, even if no one was watching.

His eyes go to my neck. “Whose good girl are you?”

“Yours,” I answer softly.

“Mine,” he agrees.

He slaps the side of my breast again, and I yelp. It wasn’t as hard as the first time, but it catches me off guard. My hands go to shoot up, but I shove them back down to my sides.