Secrets and Lies | ✔️

Chapter 4 - Conrad

Ch4 - Conrad

"Why don't you just kill me, Conrad? Put me out of my misery!" Elizabeth begged, trying to catch her breath. "I can't imagine a worse fate than being your wife, I would rather die a thousand deaths than--"

She never got to finish her sentence. Conrad lunged toward her, pinning her thin body between his and the mattress.

"But you are my wife," he slurred through gritted teeth. The three glasses of Cognac he'd had after dinner were finally starting to kick in, and he was ready to relieve the stresses of his day. "And as such, you will fulfill the duties you owe me; the commitment you made before God and our families the day we were married." Conrad held her down with one arm, while his other hand reached for the buckle of his belt.

Through her tears, Elizabeth managed an indignant chuckle. "As if you believe in God! If you did, you certainly wouldn't treat your wife and child the way you do."

Conrad let out a sinister laugh. "Of course I don't believe in God! He's a fairy tale made up so pathetic people like you have something to attach themselves to; so you can find some meaning in your deplorable existence. Where's your God now, Elizabeth? Why isn't he here protecting you?" he demanded. He yanked his dress pants down and began to wrestle with the silk of her pajama bottoms. "God didn't make man; man made God. Time to wise up and stop fooling yourself. You sound ridiculous when you speak such nonsense." With a drunken fumble, Conrad attempted to rip the fabric away from her body, but the more he tried, the harder his wife struggled.

"Please." Elizabeth sobbed loudly. "Let me go!"

Conrad bent his head and moved his hungry lips down her face and neck, leaving behind an unwanted trail of moisture. It always turned him on when his wife resisted sex; made it seem like more of a challenge--and if there was one thing he loved, it was the rush that came with hard work. Normally when they made love, she just laid there like a cold, dead fish. At least this way there was some action, some friction. Friction was good.

When he shoved his hand underneath her top, Elizabeth began to shriek, causing him to jump suddenly and lose his glasses in the battle. The expensive spectacles fell to the floor with a soft thud.

"Damn it," he shouted, bringing the back of his hand against her cheek. "Look what you made me do!" Excitement coursed through his veins as he began to pick up the pace of his actions.

"Conrad, stop! This is wrong and you know it!"

"There's nothing wrong with having relations with my wife. I work hard everyday to take care of you and your son! This is your job; this is part of your contribution to the household. You owe this to me."

After several minutes, the thrashing of her body began to slow with exhaustion, and Conrad was able to remove the rest of her clothing with ease. It didn't matter that Elizabeth wasn't in the mood, conflict was a turn-on. The victory he would experience in the end, when she was depleted of every ounce of strength she had, made him feel as if the world was his for the taking. It was having the tenacity to conquer the threat. Just like at work. A thin film of sweat would cover his well-maintained body and his heart would pick up speed every time his large corporation took over controlling interest of a smaller, weaker company. The strategic management was the foreplay; the acquisition the climax. It was all about survival of the fittest. Only the strong shall endure, and he took pride in being most powerful.

"Conrad, don't do this," she pleaded once more, but he ignored her request. Plunging deep into her, he moved quickly, focused on pleasing himself.

"Mama?" came the sound of a seven-year-old voice, timidly peeking around the frame of the bedroom door. "Are you alright?"

​Conrad faltered, turning his head toward the noise. "Damn it, Steven," he growled, his rhythm jarred by the interruption. "What're you doing awake? Go to bed, for crying out loud, your mama's fine! In fact, she's more than fine-she's having the time of her life. Isn't that right, Elizabeth?"

His wife drew in a shaky breath from underneath him and weakly lifted her head. "I'm fine, baby. Go back to bed. I'll be there shortly to tuck you in."

"Okay, Mama. If you're sure," Steven answered hesitantly, slowly backing away from the scene unfolding.

Conrad let out another laugh. "And what're you gonna do about it if she wasn't sure, huh? You gonna be the big, strong man and rescue her? Be her knight-in-shining-armor? You're just a helpless kid who's afraid of his own shadow."

After Steven hurried away, Conrad turned his attention back toward Elizabeth, concentrating on resuming the flow of movement he had cultivated before they'd been interrupted.

"I hate you. I truly hate you," Elizabeth whimpered quietly. "You're the devil, and when you die I'll rejoice by dancing on your grave."

Conrad pulled away slightly to look her in the eye. "Haven't you heard, my dear? There's a fine line between love and hate. They share the same passion; even the same biological structure. That's why you'll never leave me, and that's why you'll mourn me once I'm gone. You'd never be able to survive on your own. I'm like the blood that flows through your veins. I'm your lifeline."

He gave her a satisfied smirk as he completed his task and rolled off of her toward his side of the bed. "I'm finished," he stated flatly. "Go tend to your baby."

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My God, he's such a monster!

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Oh, and check out the side by side in the media section...Steven and his father, what an eerie resemblance!!!