Filthy Secret

I continue to scroll, finding more of the same. The search continues, but even that’s a performance. If we’d still been poor, or if I’d have been anything other than a pretty girl with a happy smile, it would have ended long ago.

My throat tightens, but I don’t cry. I think my tears have all been shed for that life.

Feeling slightly numb, I walk to the coat rack and head outside, finding Cade with the animals. He doesn’t say anything when I fall into place beside him, but he does take hold of my hand as we move from task to task. A few times when I mention needing more feed, or suggesting winter vegetables to plant, he kisses my cheek, but he still doesn’t speak.

The sun sets, and we head inside to shower like we do every day. Cade helps me out of my clothes, then sheds his and turns on the water, shielding me from the cold spray like he always does.

I stare at his back, following the tattoos until they lead to the one on his neck. My name in cursive script. I reach up to touch it, letting my fingers trail over the black ink.

“When did you get this one?”

He turns over his shoulder to look at me, and I’m surprised to see a sheepish look on his face. “After I tried to leave town with you, before I was shipped off.” He checks the water temperature then steps inside, pulling me with him. “I didn’t know what was going to happen while I was gone, but I wanted you with me. If I died, I wanted some record that you’d been mine. Or that I’d been yours.”

The numbness cracks, turning the dull ache in my chest into something warm and bright. I watch the water roll over his skin, the way the droplets skirt over his muscles. For the first time, I chase them with my fingers, letting myself touch him like I used to as I think back to what was really stolen from me.

Him.

Had there not been a threat chasing us, I would have stayed in that car. I would have waited two months until I was eighteen then his name would have become mine. He would have still been shipped away, but when he came home after his service term ended, it would have been to my arms.

The bottle of shampoo clatters when it lands on the shower floor, dropped when I reached up and wrapped my arms around Cade’s neck. He responds by wrapping his arms around my waist, moaning softly. When I pull away and drop to my knees in front of him, he gasps.

I kiss his stomach, his hip, letting his cock rub against my face until he takes my head in both hands and guides me onto him. I open willingly, wanting this. Needing it just as much as I had when I was 17 and he wanted to wait.

“Fuck. Baby.” He leans back against the wall, guiding my open mouth forward and back, pushing his cock down my throat. I let him. There’s no suction, just wetness and my tongue trying to tease and taunt him the way he has me. He doesn’t let me try for long. After only a few moments of his hips thrusting, pushing his cock into my mouth, he hauls me into his arms, shuts the water off, and we step out of the shower only to end up on the rug. He moves to sit up, but I press his chest down, sliding my hips over his and sinking onto his cock.

No words pass between us. His hands find my hips, fingers digging into my flesh as I bounce and roll on top of him. I ride him like I always wanted to. Fast and eager, rough like he’s taught me. It’s only minutes before I’m dizzy, eagerly seeking out what I know he can give me. What only he’s been able to give me. I hadn’t ever been able to make myself come until he made me. Until he forcefully took me and showed me what my body wanted.

What it liked more than anything else.

Him.Content protected by Nôv/el(D)rama.Org.

“God,” he breathes, heels slipping on the floor as he tries to get leverage for his own thrusts. He sits up, holding me close and guiding my hips as I start to shiver. “You fuck me so good, sweetheart. You’re mine. Say it. Tell me.”

I whine, still rocking furiously on top of him as I claw his damp shoulders. He hisses at the pain, reaching up to fist my hair and hold my gaze to his.

“Mine.”

“You took me.”

“Because you’re mine.”

My body tightens, and I’m suddenly grateful that I’m here in his arms, away from that vapid, performative existence where I’d be showering by myself instead of getting fucked so hard on a bathroom floor.

“I don’t want to leave,” I confess, tears slipping onto my cheeks.

“You’re never leaving me.” He cups his hands over my ass, pulling my hips flush against his. “It’s you and me, Lyra. We’re going to fuck each other wildly. We’re going to fight. You’re going to love me and hate me and piss me off, but I still won’t let you leave.” He kisses me, catching my panting whine on his tongue. “I love you. I love you. Now fucking come for me, because you love me too.”

I clutch him to me and come so hard my whole body shudders, bucking against him, using his cock like he’s used my cunt. When my thrusting hips slow, he flips me over, pinning me in place as he pushes deep and follows my violent orgasm with one of his own.

Then we’re still, tangled on the floor, both of us starting to shiver until he pulls a towel off the rack and wraps it around me, then flails around until he finds one for himself. The whole time, he stays buried inside me.

Eventually he lifts me off the floor and carries me upstairs, laying me on my back as he snuggles in beside me. He tucks his legs under mine, keeping them propped up, and I can’t help but laugh. The sound draws his attention, and he leans up on an elbow to gaze at me.

“Say it.”

I swallow. “I love you.”

His entire body melts in relief, and he buries his head in my shoulder. I turn my head to kiss his cheek, letting my arm wrap around his shoulders.

“Cade.” “Lyra?”

“We have.” I swallow and snuggle closer, trying to think of how to phrase what I’m trying to say. What’s on my mind. “We have to go back.

They’ll keep looking, they won’t stop.”

“They won’t find-”

“No, they won’t,” I agree. “But then they’ll declare me dead, and my inheritance will go to no one when it could go to us. When it could go…” I shift and take his hand, moving it to the flat space between my hips. I hear him swallow, then he looks down at our hands, his thumb smoothing over my skin.

“To the babies.”

I nod, pressing my lips together. “We’ll need more space.”

He shrugs. “We’ll figure it out.”

I look at our hands again as thoughts of losing out on all that money run rampant through my mind. Maybe it’s selfish, but my parents owe me. A lot more than three years’ worth of time.

“We have to figure this out first.”