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The Ritual(84)

Author:Shantel Tessier

“Do you feel how deep in your ass I am, Blake?” he growls in my ear. His green eyes are locked on my watery ones in the mirror. “How tight it is?”

My hips are slammed into the side of the counter, my back arched at an odd angle, and my limbs secured to the drawers. My tits are smashed underneath me, already making it hard to breathe.

“Fuck,” he growls, his hands gripping my hair, making my scalp tingle. “Your ass feels so fucking good wrapped around my cock.” I manage to suck in a deep breath. “I knew it would.”

My face is just inches from the mirror, and every time I breathe, a fog covers it before disappearing. His hand in my hair is the only thing preventing my face from hitting the glass with each thrust.

Everything feels so intense. He feels ten times bigger than when he’s in my pussy. Sweat covers my back and my chest—my body starting to slip around on the marble counter. My hands have gone numb from the rope wrapped around my wrists, but I can’t help it. My body is reacting to Ryat’s dick in my ass and vibrator in my pussy.

My lips fall open on a moan, and my eyes close. The sound of his body slapping mine fills the room, and so do his grunts. They turn me on even more. The fact that he’s enjoying himself makes me even wetter. My pussy clenches the toy inside me, and I’m pretty sure I’m drooling, unable to close my mouth.

It’s primal. As if he can’t control himself. He needed to take it. Just like I told him I imagined when I dream about my forced-sex fantasy. It feels like total surrender. I’m giving him the last bit of me that I have to offer.

He lets go of my hair with one hand and wraps it around my neck. “Open your eyes,” he demands with a growl. “You’re going to fucking watch!”

I open my heavy eyes, fresh tears roll out of them. I’m not even sure why I’m crying. It doesn’t hurt as much as I thought it would. My body tenses involuntarily, an unfamiliar feeling starting to build between my legs. My pussy and my ass start to pulsate with contractions. They crawl throughout my body like a million spiders—an explosion starting to build.

He holds me tighter, and the room seems to fade away, my vision going dark even though my eyes are open. I feel like I’m spinning, body shivering.

“That’s it, Blake.” I hear his voice roughly in my ear as I do exactly what he said I would do, and come, a sound so unreal erupts from my lips. A wave so heavy and hot rushes over me, taking away what little breath I had.

My body goes slack, and he slams into my ass. His dick pulses inside me as he too comes.

Pulling out of me, I whimper. Then he removes the vibrator, throwing it to the floor. It continues to stay on as he rips a towel draped over a silver rod and wipes between my shaking legs, cleaning me up. Then undoes the ropes. I don’t even have the strength to get up off the counter. The side of my face sits in my tears and sweat on the marble.

He grabs my shoulders, pulling me to a standing position just in time to pick me up before I can collapse to the floor and carries me to the bedroom. He sits with his back against the headboard and pulls me into his lap.

My body is shaking so badly, I feel like I’m having a seizure. I have no control of my motor skills whatsoever. I realize I’m still crying when I lick my lips and taste the tears.

“Shh.” He rocks me back and forth gently. One arm wrapped around my body, the other running down the side of my head. “You did great, Blake.” He kisses my hair. “Such a good girl.”

I grip the shirt he still wears and bury my face into it, closing my eyes tightly, unable to control my emotions either.

CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

RYAT

SHE’S STOPPED CRYING, her body has gone slack, and I can hear her even breathing. She’s passed out again. She hadn’t been out long enough the first time. It was clear the drugs were still in her system when she woke up.

I hear my cell ring in the bathroom. I gently lay her on the bed and cover her up before making my way into it. I turn off the sink, pick up the vibrator, shutting it off, and grab my cell off the counter. Dad flashes across my screen.

“Hello?” I answer.

“Son,” he greets me. “I just spoke to Phil. He said you and Blakely went on a trip.”

I didn’t have to watch the cameras in her apartment to know she’d call her daddy. She needed a quick escape, and his jet would be her only option. Only we weren’t going where she had planned—the Hamptons. I told him to inform the pilot of our new destination and that me and Gunner were hijacking the girls’ trip. He didn’t even question it.

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