Filthy Secret

Caldwell heir declines to comment when asked about missing fiancee.This content belongs to Nô/velDra/ma.Org .

CADE

I let Lyra rage. She kicks the dressers, pulls out drawers. At one point her veil comes sailing over the loft railing to float down like a feather and land on the floor. I know if I go up there now, it will only piss her off more. So, I head outside to do chores, trying to think of how I can comfort her when she calms down.

But even when she does calm, she won’t believe what I’ve told her. My girl isn’t stupid, but she is naive, and she will cling to the hopes that her parents only wanted good for her. They were there just enough to make her reliant on them, but they never wanted a daughter. They saw her as a tool they could use to advance themselves. First socially, pushing her into dance, pageants, sports, cheerleading. Whatever would get attention so they could be praised for having such a beautiful, sweet daughter. None of that was Lyra shining. She was just an extension of them.

It was easy to see. The whole town knew the Casey’s had dreams of making it big and getting out of the Podunk place we called home. They weren’t shy about it, and when they finally started to progress, their daughter turned from a tool to climb a social ladder to a pawn to move up the financial one. What better way to lure investors than to offer a beautiful, sweet, virgin daughter up as a bride? Marry into the family, marry into the company and potentially make millions. Fuck, they’d even mentioned it to me when they learned we were first dating, until they realized even if I had something to offer, I was going to tell them to fuck off. No way they were going to wield control over her like that. She deserved to be free.

At least, free to be with me. I didn’t want her with anyone else. She’s right, I am obsessed. Obsessed with her taste and her smell, with her sighs and the way she curls into me. Obsessed with her hands in my hair, and the way she always made me feel strong and reliable when everyone else said I was weak. They were waiting for me to fuck up. To do something unforgivable.

But she trusted me. She called me her shelter, her protector. And that’s what I plan to be.

The sun is low on the horizon when I step into the cabin. My stomach is growling, and soup sounds good. It’s comfort food, something to raise her spirits, but when I go upstairs to ask for her help, I find her sound asleep. She’d worn herself out weeping.

I move toward the bed, letting my eyes rake over her prone figure. She’s buried herself into a stack of pillows, one tucked under her leg, the other wrapped against her chest. I can see half of her face, the puffiness under her eyes, the tear tracks on her cheeks.

It’s instinct that makes me strip off my shirt and crawl into bed beside her, careful not to disturb her slumber. I tuck my arm around her waist, pulling her close and burying my face in her hair. Her only response is a soft sniffle, then she snuggles into the pillows and goes back to sleep.

“I know it hurts, sweetheart. But you don’t need them. I can give you everything you want.”

My voice is barely a whisper, and I slide my hand lower. Below her belly button, cupping the space there and remembering how she used to talk about wanting kids. Two or three of them. She wanted to stay home with them. Never miss a minute, never leave them craving attention the way she did.

It stirs my cock to life to think about giving her that. Seeing a smile on her face. Seeing her flattened stomach grow round with my child. I press myself against her, grinding to ease the ache at the front of my hips. My hands smooth along her bare thighs. She’s still wearing the nightgown, no panties underneath.

Warmth and desire race through me as I cup between her legs, my fingers stroking her soft folds. She’s warm, too. Still damp with arousal though it’s been hours. As I pet her, she shifts, exposing more of her cunt to me when she rolls further onto her stomach. I follow, shushing her when she makes a soft noise, smoothing one hand over her hair as my fingers slip inside her, slowly opening her. They plunge in and out, teasing, and I groan as I feel her growing slick and wet. Her body knows my touch, knows only I can give her what she needs.

I rise onto my knees and unfasten my pants, pushing them past my hips to free my cock. Lyra doesn’t move when I settle between her thighs, when I reach for the lube and pour some onto my fingers and rub them against her. She breathes easy, her body relaxed, at peace.

Because she knows she’s safe.

“That’s right, sweetheart,” I murmur as I spread her legs a little wider and lower my hips to slide my cock inside her. “No one is ever gonna hurt you again. You’re mine, all fucking mine.”

Friends of missing bride lyra casey discuss her volunteer work at animal shelters, love of children, and desire to be a teacher.

LYRA

I felt flayed open. Like my skin had been sliced and then peeled off my body, leaving vulnerable, raw tissue in its place. But Cade hadn’t stopped there. He’d dismantled my life in a few simple sentences, preying on the gossip that had swirled around me for months. Everyone told me to ignore it. Blaine. My friends. The Caldwells. My parents. It’s tabloids, they said. Rumors.

But in every rumor, there’s always some truth.

I shouldn’t blame Cade entirely for the seeds of doubt that were planted in my head long before he returned, but he was an easy target. After all, he’d sneaked into my wedding, drugged me, and stole me away back to his cabin in the middle of nowhere. He’d use everything he could to gaslight me into believing this life was what I wanted. That he was what I wanted. I was smarter than that. I wasn’t going to be fooled by stories I’d already heard. Besides, if he was trying to convince me to come with him, why didn’t he tell me about Blaine then? Why didn’t he take me to see it for myself?

I don’t want to hurt you.

Bullshit. He drugged me. He’s cuffed me to a bed and fucked me over and over while I cried and pleaded for him to stop. He’s tormented me with toys until my legs were jelly and I couldn’t move. He fucked me up the ass when my period came because I wouldn’t let him have my pussy. He’s violated me in every way I could be violated.

And you’ve liked every single thrust.

It’s that thought that sends my anger spiraling into despair, which puts me on the bed face down in the pillows sobbing. I can’t organize my thoughts. They’re a jumble of chaos. My dream wedding, everything a girl could ever want, was poison, and this nightmare I’m trapped in now is the antidote. Everything is upside down. The sky is green, the grass is blue, and the pigs I hear Cade feeding every morning will probably start flying.

I let the grief consume me until the tears run dry. My life back home was nothing more than a staged performance. My mother was more concerned with how the wedding reflected on them than whether or not I was happy, and my father didn’t give a single shit about any of it. So long as he got his stock price up, everything was good.

Deep down I always knew, but I was so desperate for my parents’ affection-for their approval-that I didn’t want to see the truth. It’s like being on the blank side of a two-way mirror, and now the glass has been shattered and I see everything.

I fall asleep, and for a few hours it’s a blissful cocoon that not even my nightmares can penetrate. That is until I’m awoken by soft grunts, a heavy sensation against the back of my head. There’s pressure inside me, something sliding in and out, and I blink open my eyes and turn to see Cade’s face twisted in pleasure. A gasp leaves my lips, but he covers my mouth with his palm and continues his thrusting.

“I’ve got you,” he grunts into my ear, his other arm snaking under my body, his fingers finding my clit. “Fuck, Lyra. You’re always so warm, and so fucking tight.”

I whimper, feeling his abs flex as he pumps his hips against mine. His cock is sliding easily in and out, building up the pleasure before I even have a chance to fight it. I can’t fight it. I can’t fight any of this. Even if I wasn’t wet from the brutal quick fuck he gave me this morning, he has lube. Tons of it.

Because he doesn’t want to hurt me.

I grip the pillow, burying my face into it and making my hips rise up. Cade groans, rising up to cup my hip bones and pull me into his thrusts. Slapping sounds echo around the room, and my pussy starts to ache from how hard he fucks me. But it doesn’t stop the pressure in my clit, the knot in my lower belly that unravels slowly as the orgasm crests, and I start to moan.

“Fuck, that’s it. That’s it,” he groans as my pussy clenches, squeezing his thrusting cock. I sob into the pillows. Wild, nearly feral sounds ripping out of me, turned from a long note into staccato noises as his hips pound into mine. “Such a good girl, coming for me so sweet, making me feel so good.”

His fingers tighten on my hips, and I know his own orgasm is imminent. Part of me wants to crawl away, to try to deny him what he likes most. Filling me with his seed. Coming inside me without any sort of protection.

He wants me trapped here; he wants me pregnant.

You want that too.

Cade howls when he comes. A long, drawn-out groan that sends shivers down my spine. I’m still trembling, but he holds me to him as he bows over my back, still rocking his hips into mine. He doesn’t stop, grunting and groaning and fucking me until he softens too much to continue. He’s trying to work up for another round, but my hand reaching back to grip his stills his hips. He presses a kiss to my shoulder, then carefully rolls me onto my back and curls himself around me. My hips are on the pillows I’d been clutching when I fell asleep, his legs tucked under mine, keeping me curled into a ball on my back. I sniffle, and my lips tremble when he cups my jaw and turns my face to his, slotting his mouth against mine to kiss me slow and deep.

“I’m sorry I woke you. You can go back to sleep,” he whispers between kisses. “I’ll make soup tonight, yeah? Chicken and rice. It’s your favorite still, right?”

I don’t know what hurts worse. The fact that Cade remembers that minute detail, or the fact that Blaine never learned it.

Swallowing my despair, I nod. “Yeah. It’s my favorite.”

Cade smiles and kisses me a few more times before he tucks my head under his chin and holds me close, soothing me back to sleep so I can put off facing reality just a little longer.