The Ritual Read Online Shantel Tessier

Categories Genre: College, Dark, New Adult, Romance, Virgin Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 175
Estimated words: 164346 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 822(@200wpm)___ 657(@250wpm)___ 548(@300wpm)
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I pop the lid off and grab her left breast in my hand. Squeezing it to the point she releases what sounds like a cry, I draw a heart around her hard nipple. Then repeat it with the other one. Then I put my hands on her knees and shove them apart. Again, unintelligible noises come from her open mouth. I write MINE above her pussy, over her pelvic bone. “Better,” I say, and her body shakes.

I toss the Sharpie across the room, done with it, and run my hands over her cunt since her legs are wide open for me. “Aw,” I say, my eyes going to hers. “She’s soaked now, Blake.”

Her head falls back, and she looks up at the ceiling with her watery eyes, trying to avoid looking at me like she’s too ashamed to make eye contact.

That won’t do.

Reaching up with my free hand, I place my thumb under her chin and two fingers inside her mouth, forcing her head down. “Look at me!”

She sucks in a breath, her body trembling. Her tongue is secured under my fingers, and she tries to move them, but it’s no use. She told me whatever I wanted, and what I want tonight is to make my wife my little slut.

To fucking use her!

My hand between her legs thrusts two fingers all the way into her, and her body jerks. I force a third one inside her, and her heavy panting fills the room. I start finger-fucking her, and her hips rock back and forth with my rhythm, unable to stop herself. Her knees fight to close, but I change up my position and kneel before her, using my knees to shove hers open as far as I can. She’s completely immobile with no voice and no choice but to kneel and enjoy it.

Her body stiffens, her cunt clamping down on my fingers, and she comes. Removing my fingers from her pussy and her mouth, she sags on her knees. I hold up my now cum-soaked hand and look at it. I want to lick them clean, but I don’t. That orgasm wasn’t for me.

I stand and look down at her. She’s got some drool on her chin but not nearly enough.

“I want that mouth drooling as much as that pussy,” I say, and she whimpers. Her tear-filled blue eyes shine up at me.

My right hand grips the top of her hair to hold her head in place, and I stick two fingers into her mouth with her cum on them. I slowly run them along the inside of her cheek before going to the other one. “Stick your tongue out for me,” I order softly.

She sticks it through the ring, and I run my fingers over the top of it, pushing them to the back of her throat, making her gag and her body jerk. I do it again and hold them there.

Her body fights me, the chains clinking while she pulls on them. “Breathe through your nose,” I tell her.

She doesn’t have much experience in the sucking dick department. I’ve only had my cock in her mouth that one time during the vow ceremony. Women need training to deep throat a dick. Some—but not most I’ve been with—can do it right out of the gate. Like they practice on dildos at home alone before they even have boyfriends to master the craft.

Her throat works while she tries to swallow, and I run my fingers up and down her tongue before pressing them to the back—repeating the motion. She gags once again, and I watch fresh tears run down her face when she blinks.

Pulling my hand out completely, she chokes, spit flying from her mouth. Drool now runs down her chin and covers her perfect breasts and flat stomach while she sucks in breath after breath. “That’s more like it.”

Her head hangs forward the best it can, a line of drool leaking from her open mouth reaching the floor, and I watch her shaking body with satisfaction.

My girl.

My wife.

My filthy little slut.

I remove my mask, throwing it to the floor before I remove the cloak, getting more comfortable.

BLAKELY

I CAN’T FEEL my hands or my legs. They’re all numb. My body is covered in sweat and drool, and my jaw hurts.

Opening my heavy eyes, I see him widen his stance in front of my kneeling body and know what’s coming. The sound of his zipper only confirms it.

His hand grips the hair on top of my head, and he lifts my head, pushing it back. I look up at him through watery eyes while he stares down at me with what I can only explain as raw dominance.

I love it!

This is what my body wants. What it needs. To be his. You can be someone’s wife but still want to be used. Ryat never makes me feel ashamed or embarrassed for that.


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