Chapter 58
Aurora
I wake after dawn. Surprisingly, I slept so peacefully in this house, as if I were under reliable protection.
It’s strange that Desire isn’t around, but being alone here no longer has me afraid.
I go to the shower, and in the bathroom, a wave of nausea hits me again.
What’s the matter with me? What am I constantly being poisoned by?
When I go out into the living room wrapped in a fluffy towel, Desire is there.
Dressed in a black leotard, he sits in the very chair where, three months ago, I first submitted to him and sucked his cock, and where, yesterday, he so greedily feasted on my pussy.
The delicious smell of fried eggs wafts from the kitchen.
“I don’t want eggs,” I say, trying to stop the nausea.
“I’ve made oatmeal with blueberries especially for you.” He brings the phone away from his face and smiles. “No butter or milk.”
“It’s like you knew I was going to feel bad,” I mutter.
Desire grins, scanning my bare thighs peeking out from under the edge of the towel.
“You’ll get more protein … later. Along with my sperm.”
I swallow, lowering my gaze. The outline of a hard cock is visible under the fabric of his black pants. He wants me again.
“Desire,” I say with slight reproach.
“My cock is hardening to the beat of your pussy getting wet.” He looks right at where the edges of the towel meet, and I squeeze my thighs, trying to hide my treacherous arousal.
He gets up, comes close to me, and runs his thumb over my lips. I lick his finger, and he slaps my buttocks, making me cry out.
“Don’t push it. Let’s go have breakfast. Afterward, I want to show you a beautiful place.”
I change into a dress, then eat my oatmeal, and one question lingers: where are we going? Desire’s idea of a “beautiful place” might differ drastically from the norm. It could easily be a sea of blood. But whose?
“That gray-haired man …, Robert,” I recall, “you were going to kill him.”
“He hasn’t come up in the queue yet.” Desire gazes out the window, his profile carved from stone. “But he’s next.”
I drop my eyes to my plate, feeling heat rush to my face. It’s wrong, it’s insane, but I feel myself getting even more aroused. There’s something primal and wild about having blood shed for you, like in prehistoric times.
He glances at me, and his jaw tightens, then he stands. “Before I jump you right here, let’s go.”
I sigh, licking my lips, and rise to follow him. Fleeting regret flashes inside me. I wanted him to lose control and fuck me right on this table.
We drive deep into the woods. On another bump, something heavy rolls around in the trunk, followed by a dull thud.
“Desire, what’s in the trunk?”
“Just trash,” he says, not taking his eyes off the road.
On a sharp turn, I swear I heard a muffled groan. I shake my head. Nonsense. My imagination must be running wild, spurred by the night’s events. Besides, I’m full of anticipation, wondering where exactly Desire is taking us into this wilderness.
Soon, the car stops in a small clearing. Desire kills the engine and nods for me to get out.
“Not bad, right?” he asks, slipping his hands into his pockets and squinting at the sun.
I step out of the car and freeze, stunned by the view before me. Spread out in front of us is a small forest lake—mirror-clear, cradled in a ring of ancient pines. The water is perfectly still, like frozen glass, reflecting the blue of the sky. I turn to my husband in surprise.
“What?” he smirks.
“It’s … it really is a beautiful place.”
“Didn’t I say so?” He smiles faintly.
“It’s ordinary. In the best possible sense. Beautiful to everyone.”
Desire laughs quietly. “What were you expecting? An abandoned barn full of corpses or a fence lined with impaled heads?”
I drop my eyes in embarrassment—my husband isn’t far from the truth.
“I’m not immune to beauty. After all, I fell in love with you.” He steps close, and my breath catches at his confession.
“Desire …”
“Maybe I love in my own way.” He takes me by the chin, forcing me to look into his eyes. “But it suits you too, doesn’t it?”
“Yeah …,” I whisper, melting under his heavy gaze.
I should return his confession, but a lump forms in my throat, and my heart is beating so fast I can barely breathe. Desire isn’t waiting for an answer. Releasing my chin, he turns me to face away from him and presses himself against my back. Right in front of me is the still surface of the water.
“If you hadn’t saved me back then, I could have become the princess of this lake,” I say.
The pond is very close to Alistair’s house.
Would he have brought me home after he raped me?
Maybe. That was probably his and Mom’s plan, but Alistair is a maniac.
He could have snapped during the rape and killed me, then thrown me out here.
My corpse surfacing in a white dress would have become an ornament to this place.
“Cedar. This lake is called Cedar,” Desire whispers in my ear, and his hot breath makes my skin crawl.
“The Princess of Cedar,” I echo.
“That didn’t happen, Aurora. You are Princess Sterling. And only mine.”
I swallow, his hand slowly lifting the hem of my dress. His fingers slide down my thigh, pulling aside a thin strip of underwear.
“I’ll remind you of your reality, Rory.” His voice gets low as he caresses my pussy. “Feel who you really belong to. You’re so wet,” he admires.
I’m trembling, unable to hold back a soft moan. Desire penetrates me with his finger, exploring the depths, and I sharply inhale the cool forest air.
“Desire, I …” I want to confess to him in return.
His free hand wraps around my throat, not letting me finish but not cutting off the oxygen.
“I want you to say it a little later,” he whispers in my ear.
He inserts and removes his finger, soon adding a second. My breathing becomes ragged, and my flesh clenches around his fingers. My body tightens like a string, the throbbing inside becomes unbearable, and I pour myself right on his fingers, shuddering in a short but sharp orgasm.
Desire slowly withdraws his hand and brings his wet fingers to my lips.
“Lick them,” he orders.
And I obey. His erect cock, hard as stone, presses into my lower back, and a thought flashes through my mind: I want to lick it too. I want all of him, right here, on the shore of this quiet lake.
Suddenly, a distinct, muffled thud and scuffling come from the trunk. I jump and spin, staring at Desire with eyes wide. “Who’s there?!” My voice cracks.
“It’s your wedding present waking up.” He smirks. “Just in time.”
“Desire!” I’m speechless. He stuffed someone tied up in our wedding car? Did he drive with that cargo to the courthouse, or did it happen at night while I was asleep in his house? I try to remember if he left during the night, but I slept like the dead and didn’t hear a thing.
“Come on, take a look.” He wraps his arm around my waist and leads me to the Maybach GLS.
Stopping me right at the trunk, he strokes my neck above the choker, making me freeze.
“Let’s draw this out, Rory.”
I freeze, the vibrations from the quiet moans coming from under the metal lid against my skin. His hands slide down to my thighs, and my lungs fill with air. Fuck, he’s turning me on again. It’s pure, primal adrenaline. Another muffled moan makes a bead of sweat trickle down my back.
“Is that a woman?” I try to make out the muffled voices. It sounds like two of them …
At that moment, Desire, standing behind me, slides his finger into my cunt again, thrusting deep.
“A-a-ah …, we can’t do it right now …” I exhale, bracing my hands on the trunk lid.
“That’s the best part of it,” he purrs into the back of my head. “We can do it anytime.”
The commotion inside the trunk grows louder—muffled shouts turning into hoarse cries. Another second, and I might scream myself, unable to hold back the mounting tension inside me.
“Who’s there?” I repeat, breathless from lack of oxygen, as my husband’s finger methodically slides out and thrusts back into my yielding, wet hole.
Desire smooths down the hem of my dress, hiding his manipulations with my cunt. He’s a possessive bastard and won’t let anyone see me naked—not even those he’s condemned to a quick death.
“Open it, babe, and look.” I hesitate, my fingers trembling. “Go on.”
I press the latch. The lid slowly rises. From the darkness of the trunk, Chloe and Zack stare back at me. They’re bound in chains, their mouths taped shut. Zack’s pants are wet—I wrinkle my nose at the sharp smell of urine.
“Happy wedding, darling!” Desire exclaims.
He keeps moving his finger inside me, but his prisoners can only see my frozen stare—the high SUV body hides everything happening below my waist, even the flutter of my dress.
With my heart pounding, I look into Zack’s wide, terrified eyes. Looking at the face of my ex-boyfriend, who will soon be killed, all I can think about is the approaching orgasm.
“Hello … Zack …,” I whisper on an exhale, staring at him distantly, as if through thick glass. I don’t know what else to say to a ghost from my past.
Zack goes wild. He thrashes in his chains, kicking Chloe in the stomach, making her curl up and gasp.
“Enough. Close the trunk.” Desire’s voice rings out like a steel sentence.
I hesitate. My body has a mind of its own: the walls of my vagina pulse around my husband’s fingers, my thighs tremble, and my head is filled with a ringing emptiness.
“Close the trunk, Aurora!” Desire growls, louder now.
Zack shakes his head, his eyes full of pleading, but I lift my gaze to the sky. Pulling the lid down, I slam it shut, cutting off the whimpering and the clinking of chains. In that moment, my legs finally give out.
Desire catches me and presses my cheek and chest against the trunk lid. My back arches into a steep curve, my dress hiked to my waist. I freeze, surrendering to the moment. The sounds behind the trunk door no longer matter.
When my husband’s cock thrusts all the way inside me, I stop holding back. I want to pour out my feelings. No one has ever done for me what he has. No one has ever seen the real me.
I scream, my voice breaking, releasing my confession into the forest silence. “I love you, Desire!”