The Invite

I broke a rule, and now here’s my punishment.. But my punishment requires what exactly? He went without speaking to me for weeks at a time, almost two months had passed and he didn’t need me. Then, one crisp winter. I get an envelope at my door; addressed to me: Abigail. That’s not my name, it’s just what servants are called, and no—before you ask; I’m not his handmaiden; well technically, but he doesn’t need an heir from me. Think of me more as his company… or property. Yes, I said it, property. My captor doesn't value women at their highest. We Abigail’s are allowed to roam the estate, and live freely amongst our captors; we aren’t locked away in a room, or told when we can and can not eat or do other things. We Abigail’s are like mistresses, but for the rich. We hold power over who we claim. The thing with my captor is: he was attracted to what he couldn’t have, so he stole me away from my previous captor.

Connor Draco III.

My previous captor was abusive. He punished me by not letting me have freedom, and doing my job: which was to please him. And there are rules you as an Abigail have to follow to the letter—or else. My captor: Liam Johnathn Lake; is different from Connor. He’s kind, sweet, attentive; and shows character. And that’s a problem, because as Abigail’s; the one rule you can’t go against is falling for your captor. It’s forbidden. And the punishment is way worse than exile; and humanition—death by fire; like how they burned the witches in Salem.

Lake could have exiled me, or burned me alive, but he took a different approach. Over the course of the week he somehow knew of what I had done, and put a stop to it, but then within three days he wanted nothing from me. A week turned into two which carried onto another week, and by the twenty-seventh day almost three weeks had passed without him needing me. I was driving myself crazy—insane, thinking I was the problem. Until one day, I saw these pictures of me on his nightstand all mushed together and folded at the sides. Once I realized what happened; it occurred to me he was falling for me too. Which made it ten times worse because forget being burned alive at the stake for breaking a forbidden rule, if a captor falls for any Abigail’s, like me; he loses everything, and the colony makes them disappear. Not by killing then, but the captors completely ghost—as if they never existed. He didn’t need that to happen. I didn’t want that to happen.

My best bet was to plan an escape, and run, but that didn’t go as planned. Lake was downstairs by the fireplace: sitting in his chair reading a book, until he spotted me from the corner of his eye, and demanded I come to him. At that point, when your captor is demanding you to do something, you don’t question it. So, I did as commanded of me. I dropped my bags down at the bottom of the steps, and walked over to him a few feet away. With his eyebrow cocked he grunted. Oh, he was pissed

He slammed the book down on the side table and stood up. Walked over to me and studied me with his eyes. He grabbed me by the neck, and pushed me against the wall; expecting I’d scream. I did not. I invited him in with ease.His grip tightened expecting I’d shy away because it was forbidden—an Abigail to fall for her captor. There are rules to follow and if we break those rules.. there’s a punishment. I guess, this was him punishing me. He saw the look in my eyes, saw me want this, the need to have him. As my eyes softened. I could feel my heart race 100 miles per minute; down a race track on a loop. Over and over I felt the adrenaline rush through my veins almost felt like I had superhuman strength as he brushed up against me. I could feel his erection through his jeans on my pelvis—I bit my lip hard holding back my moans as his name escaped my lips, but I swallowed it down hard felt the back of my throat close up like drinking hot lava. I had this intense need to kiss him—that I knew if he touched me, if he kissed me, if he sculpted his palm unto my chest; I’d scream—on the inside.

My insides burned with this intense desire to have him. I would go crazy and feel his breath on my neck… the warmth of his coarse hands rubbing up and down my back feeling his weight on my body like a warm cozy blanket.

“Lay back”

He whispered, as he kissed my cheek. The wetness of his lips pressed firmly against my cheekbone; I became flustered.

My whole body stood still as he took my hand and guided me to the living room closer to the fireplace: it was lit with red and yellow tinted tones. I heard the cracks of the wood and saw the flames rise up almost as if we were at a bomb-fire, and you could smell the roasted marshmallows, and chocolate as you placed them in between two graham crackers. The scent overpowers you as you begin to take your first bite.

“Relax”

His voice fades and is embedded in my mind as I take a breath. I feel his hand on my chest as he tells me to hold it.

“No peeking”

He says. Running his index finger down the side of my arm circling me—examining me like a science experiment. He’s behind me; my body tenses up like the tin man from “The Wizard of Oz” and brushes my hair to the side; exposing my neck. With that same hand he uses his middle finger to trace the vein that’s exposed to him.

I’m frozen.

I freeze up

Why was I here…

The invite specifically stated, I put on this black lingerie; matching set, place my uniform over the set, and I come alone. So, why do I fear it’s not just the two of us in his estate. I become anxious quickly, and all the while he’s rewarding me with kisses to my neck and forehead. His touch felt so inviting, I melted—no molded into his arms like clay. He has broad shoulders, built like an Ox as if he could carry 100 men on his back without hesitation. His bread was well shaped for his face. Beautiful green jaded eyes—the ones you can get lost in: into the abyss of mysterious mystery. He’s not perfect, he has his secrets just like I, but there’s something about him, but that makes me want more..

He tugged on the back of my neck and growled like a primal animal like he was in heat and was ready to claim his territory. I let out a gasp, like a pup trying to be rescued from danger. My goosebumps stood at attention when he made his way back around; his hand clenched the back of my hair. My head tilted back a bit as I watched him lick his lips slowly as his eyes were glued to my chest. He could tell I wanted to be claimed by the way my nipples hardened—and just like that he was ready.

“Ready for me.”

I clenched my jaw tight; tight enough the vibrations of my sex—the aroma I gave off meant how ready, and wet I wanted him. Wanted him to tame me as if own, and claim what was rightfully his. Truth be told, I was his—for the taking. With my eyes still closed; I imagined all the possibilities of being thrown around this room and his hands caressed my firm yet soft supple cream like peachy skin. I'd roll my neck back to release some of the tension and felt his hot breath on my neck, I begin to go into a craze.

“I want you…”

I protested. My voice is barely audible; I lose all sense of touch. Before you know it he has my arms above my head and kisses me. The fire burning in my belly erupts, and ignites a flame of bursting energy I begin to pant, and squirm around. I don’t fight him on it—for this was what I wanted. He grinds up against me and catches my breath. He picks me up in one swift motion and I wrap my arm around him for balance. I sigh with desire—almost a wailing whimper of yearning. He holds me up with his right arm as we move together in unison; while his other hand, his palm is pressed against the wall that I’m backed against. My legs wrapped tightly around him. We fit so perfectly together like a puzzle piece. My heart races as he kisses my neck—sucking, and biting, leaving hickeys wherever there’s bare skin.

My eyes are closed—still The warmth of him feels me with hunger. I dare to open them and look into his green jaded eyes. I’d get lost and my lust for him would surely send me into a frenzy.

“Laim”

I breathed. For that was the first thing I said all day. My cheeks turned a cherry red and heat permeated throughout my face, chest, and navel.

“No!”

He scowled. With each breath he could muster, he wanted me to call him Sir. He then carried me over to the floor and carefully placed me on the floor; near the fireplace. There was a shadow of both of our silhouettes as I saw him kiss me all the way down to my navel. I breathed through my nose to calm the fluttering nerves of butterflies raising havoc on my sex. He stopped and looked up at me, then smirked at me as if I knew what he was about to do next. I took a deep breath and laid all the way back as his hands trailed up my dress. He could feel how wet I was. He stopped; and for a moment I could hear my heart pounding—like the Tell Tale Heart. My eyes shot open as he was on his knees undoing his pants; staring down at me with this look of want.

“Sir”

I pleaded. I reached out and gripped him by the wrist before he could unzip his jeans.

“Sir”

My voice was stern and seductive, like I wanted him to take me; I wish he would take me. My body was so hot for him I didn’t care what the consequences were. As long as we were together at this moment that’s all that mattered. He cocked a devilish grin for he loved the way I said sir. I loved the way it sounded coming from my lips. The way my mouth formed an O shape and the look of want from my eyes; how I’d look down, then back up. I teased him, by rubbing my feet on the bulge of his jeans. His shaft twitched in excitement as he tried to hold back the need to dominate me. He likes it rough, and I was willing to abide—if it meant to have him inside me. The chandler above us swayed back and forth as the crystals hit each other. He was holding back on me; and the anticipation was killing us both.

“Do you—’’

He said, his voice in a whisper. I stood up eye level to him, and placed my index finger on his lips. Staring deeply into his eyes.

“Jonathan…” I sighed; arching my head back with my eyes closed; feeling the fire burn within me.

“Yes…” he growled.

“I know…” I said. My voice is barely audible. He looked at me with furrowed brows as if he didn’t know what I knew. My hand traced up his chest, but he gripped my wrist and stared at me. I had upset him. He spun me around; my backside pressed against his chest. His left hand was gripped to my neck slightly. He didn’t squeeze though. I could hear ragged breathing as if he ran a marathon. I couldn’t tell if he was upset or aroused by the way I looked by the fireplace. I felt anxious—my nerves and body tensed up as if he were going to kill me. I didn’t know what was going to happen. The adrenaline we both felt intensified 100 times more than I could anticipated.

Was this the end?

Was I going to die?

His lips parted as he was going to speak, his body heat overpowered my sex—now I was apart of him. He bent me down with force and grunted. I planted my hands on the floor as his shaft made its entrance. A moan escaped my throat as he continued to thrust inside me. I bit down hard on my lips as more whimpering cries attempted to wail out.

“QUITE ABIGAIL!”

He roared. A roar so loud it echoed without the estate. Sent chills down my spine, and body: rocked through my core. He was rough with me and fucked me from behind. Left a few marks of his palm print on my ass as he spanked it repeatedly. With each motion he slowed down as we moved together. Usually, he’s never this rough with me unless I did something wrong—which it seems I have. His sex rubbed against mine as I tried to hold ack from calling him sir. We breathed together and our bodies molded into a beautiful masterpiece. His hand traveled up my backside and yanked my hair as he knotted me coming inside. I could feel his erection still hardening for he wasn’t done with me.

“Lia—”

I said, under a breath; I sat up facing him, he cut me off before I could finish.

“No, I am your captor, you refer to me as SIR!” He said in a stern murmur.

“GOT IT!” He continued with a growl. His eyes were glued to mine with one eyebrow cocked and eyes squinted. His bottom lip quivered and some of his teeth appeared. My eyes softened a bit as my right palm touched his cheek. He feels tense and I see the anger in his eyes. He looks lost, and confused—and dare I say worried about us—worried about getting caught.

What we’re doing is risky.

“Liam…”

My voice softens and the tension he feels suddenly fades. He knows how dangerous this can get between us, and what we feel for each other.

“Esmé”

His voice was barely audible. My eyes widened by the shock of him saying my real name. I’ve been Lake’s captor for six years and within those six years he’s never used, or said my real name. A tear falls from my cheek onto his hand.

“I—”

I couldn’t form a sentence because I was speechless. He spoke my name, and for the first time ever I just stared at him. He pulled me into him and placed his head on the side of my neck. He felt warm, like a wolf in sheep's clothing.

“I want to apologize,” he said.

There was a pause and he took another breath; slowly exhaling each time his weight drops and weighs on me.

“I want to—apologize for being too rough with you. That was not my intention.”

He lifted his head and placed it on my forehead. His eyes were connected to my brown doleful ones.

“It’s okay, I know you’re under a lot of stress, and—”

He cut me off mid sentence by placing his hand on my lips.

“Please, Esmé, that should not have happened”

His voice was apologetic and sincere. He got up from the floor and turned his back to me. I too got up from the floor and placed my palm on his back. He was still, and peaceful. His back raises up every time he inhales and slowly softens as he exhales.

He stood in front of the fireplace for a while, then spoke:

“You’re free to go, Esmé. Leave.”

His voice was stern and serious, sad almost.

I stood there in shock as to what he meant, but when he hadn’t spoken after another fifteen minutes; I knew he was for real. I was confused as I walked over to my bags and then to the door. I wanted to turn around to look at him, but he wasn’t moving.

So, I didn’t

That was the end.

It was goodbye.