The Ritual: A Dark College Romance

“S ARAH …” I SPIN around, expecting her to have followed me, but I freeze when I see one of those mask-covered men standing in the room with me. “Oh, uh …” My eyes go to the door as I take a step back, stumbling into the footboard.

He steps into me, and I suck in a breath when he lifts his hands to push my hair back. I watch wide-eyed and half-paralyzed as he lowers his hand down over my shirt, pressing the material softly to my chest. He gets to my breasts and tilts his head to the side. The pressure of my bra rubbing on my nipple makes it harden.

I gasp when he rips off my name tag. He wads it up in his hand and tosses it to the floor, landing at our feet.

“Matt …?” I swallow, my tongue heavy.

The figure shakes his head, and I whimper. Why do I believe it’s not him? And why don’t I care? “I’m sorry …” I lick my numb lips. “I shouldn’t have … I’ll leave.” I stumble over my words as I go to walk around him.

But his hand comes out, wrapping around my waist and pulling my back to the front of his body. My breath rushes out of my lungs. “I’d rather you not,” he whispers roughly into my ear.

I try to think if I’ve heard his voice before, but the song “Killing Me Slowly” by Bad Wolves is too loud, and my mind is foggy.

A chill runs up my back, making me shiver. Without permission, his free hand yanks my shirt up, and then his warm hand lands on my stomach. My heart races when his hand starts making its way up my rib cage and to my bra.

I swallow nervously, and my thighs tighten when he slides his hand under the material and up over my sensitive breasts. I should be embarrassed for two reasons. One, he’s a stranger, and two, my chest is wet from the alcohol spilled on it. But that’s not the case. As I lean my head back on his chest, a moan escapes my numb lips. I lick them just in case I’m drooling. I’ve imagined what it would feel like to be touched. To know what it’s like to be sexually wanted for so long. I wish I wasn’t so drunk, so I could really take it in.

“I was watching you earlier,” he admits shamelessly into my ear. “He’s over you. Let me help you get over him.”

His words once again tell me it’s not Matt. But he saw us? Was that why I felt like I was being watched before I found Matt with that girl? It was him? “I …”

“Shh.” His hand around my waist lowers to my jeans. His fingers softly run back and forth along the top of the material, making my body break out in goose bumps. “Will you let me help you?”

My head is swimming, the room tilting. My heart is racing, my body on fire. All of a sudden, everything is hot. Getting undressed sounds like an amazing idea. I nod and breathe, “Yeah.” Why not? I’m single now. Matt has someone. Why can’t I? It’s not like I loved him. It’s the fact that he was fucking cheating on me when he wouldn’t even fuck me.

“Stay right where you are,” he orders. “Understand?”

Swallowing the lingering taste of vodka from that last drink, I answer, “Yes.”

He lets go, and I watch him walk out from behind me and over to the door. He locks it, then turns to face me.

I look up at him. He’s got an all-white mask on. It’s got black lines through it in various places to make it look like it’s cracked. The eyes have black circles around them, and the lips are filled in the same color. For some reason, it’s not as frightening as it should be. Maybe that’s the alcohol talking. I’ve never done something so bold before. So reckless. Something that is a hundred percent my decision.

My mother would throw a fit if she knew I was drunk at this party, let alone locked in a room with a stranger who hasn’t shown me his face.

Stepping into me, he lifts his right hand and once again runs it down my face and neck, pausing on my pulse. It’s racing. My breathing ragged. I feel like I might pass out soon. Dropping his hand, he walks behind me again, and I hear a drawer open and close. Then darkness covers my eyes.

I lift my hands to remove it. “What …?”

The material falls to my feet, and my arms are grabbed and yanked behind my back. Then I’m bent over the side of the bed. I’d scream, but my breath gets caught in my throat. He holds my wrists crossed with one hand while I hear the sound of metal before something cold is tightened around each wrist.

“Stay,” he growls before I feel the loss of his body.

I’m panting, my body shaking while I wait here like an obedient dog, pulling on what I can only think to be handcuffs. Seconds later, that material is placed back over my eyes, taking away my sight. It’s tied in a knot, securing it in its place.

He grabs me by my hair, yanking me to stand, and I cry out, surprised it didn’t rip the blindfold off. “You can take it off when I’m done with you.” His voice is rougher than it was a second ago. Almost angry.

It makes my legs tighten and pussy throb. I moan in acceptance for whatever the stranger wants to do with me. My body has been screaming in silence for years for someone to touch it. To have their way with it. I can’t satisfy it. Not like I crave. Imagine having to scratch an itch that you can’t reach no matter how hard you try. Or trying to scream underwater for help, knowing that no one can hear you.

Matt turned me down countless times. I once tried to seduce him on the golf course, and he yelled at me when we got back to his parents’, telling me it was embarrassing how I rubbed my ass against him while his friends were only a few feet away. No one was paying any attention to us, and it’s not like I was naked. I was wearing a skirt. All he had to do was lift it up and touch me.

The man slaps my ass, making me jump and cry out. “Answer me,” he demands in my ear.

Did he ask me a question? I try to rack my drunk brain but come up with nothing, so I just say, “Yes.”

His hands come around the front of my jeans, and he unzips them.

“Yes,” I repeat again just in case he didn’t hear me the first time as the song changes to “Guest Room” by Echos. I know I’m going to agree to whatever the fuck this stranger wants from me. Hoping he can show me what my body was meant to do because I feel like I’ve been missing something.

RYAT

I TOSS HER onto the bed, lying on her back. She cries out when she lands on her restrained wrists. I yank my mask off and drop it to the floor, then I remove her heels before pulling her jeans down her legs.

“Yes.” She moans, arching her back.

I remove her underwear as well and place them in my pocket. She won’t be getting those back. Crawling onto the bed, I spread her legs while running my hands up her thighs. They shake, and she’s panting. I imagine her like this with Matt, and my fingers dig into her skin. I hope the bastard saw me following her off the dance floor.

Whimpering, she gets my attention, and I let up on her. Spreading her legs wider, I lean down and look over her pussy. It’s clean-shaven and glistening already, making my mouth start to water instantly. Running my thumb over it, I spread her open and lower my face, licking her pretty cunt.

Her hips jump, and I hold them down in place.

“Oh, God …” She trails off.

She’s wet, so I slip a finger into her easily. It’s warm and so fucking tight. I pause as Gunner’s words come back to me from the other day. “Blakely,” I say, pushing a second one into her, making her hiss in a breath.

She arches her neck, lips parted, and whimpers. “Yeah?” She’s too drunk to even realize I called her by her name.

“Have you ever been fucked?” I ask her, removing my fingers and pushing them into her again while twisting them to where they turn inside her and reach upward slowly. I’m taking my time because I don’t want to hurt the poor girl. Not yet. But once she’s my chosen, all bets are off.

This is what the oath is for—restraint. It’s about thinking things through and outliving our opponent. Wear them down. Show no mercy. We are stronger than them.

“No.” She bucks her hips.

“Fuck!” I growl before sinking my teeth into her thigh and making her flinch on a soft cry. My cock is so fucking hard, it’s pressing painfully against the inside of my jeans. For three years, I’ve done what was asked of me. I can’t break that oath now. I just have to wait a little longer.

Removing my fingers, I replace them with my tongue and lick her wet pussy, making her moan. I do it again and throw her legs over my shoulders to get a better hold on her writhing body while I show her why I’m the better choice for her.

Matt is going to hate me because I’m going to fuck his future wife. She will be my chosen, and I will use her in more ways than she ever knew possible. I’ll leave scars he’ll have to look at every day, knowing I once fucking owned her.