Downing Abbey – Chapter 10 [MF]

(Lucas)

Deep breaths. Deep breaths.

They say sex with a limp receiver isn’t enjoyable. Well that’s bullshit, especially if the reason for her lack of participation is a knotted tie. I didn’t blink once as I linked her wrists to the bedposts, but right now, my eyes could barely stay open. While my inner cavemen was flexing with pride in the moonlight, pulling all the weight for two hours was exhausting.

And I loved every second of it.

A tight whimper as I massaged her cheeks reminded me that they were beautifully tender from the less-than-gentle treatment, and her backside displayed every shade between salmon and maroon. This was my favorite time of day, of existence – touching Abigail after taking her for a ride on the Orgasm Express.

‘Fuck, I’m so well fucked, so entirely fucking fucked,’ she murmured as she turned her back to me and put a hand on my thigh, an invitation for post-sex spooning.

A fish belonged in water, a bird in the air, and I pressed right behind Abigail. She dipped her head back into my shoulder as I slipped my hand into the opening under her neck. ‘Must have set a cursing record there, cupcake,’ I mumbled into her hair. The scent of honey spice soothed me every time. ‘You took all of me, for hours, and I mean *all* of me, and I couldn’t find the bottom.’

‘Oh Lucas, is your pride hurt? Do you need me to kiss that boo-boo?’ she mocked with duck lips.

I clenched my jaw and gave her a playful glare. If I had any energy left she’d be face down ass up within two seconds.

‘That sharp lip, Miss May. It’s going to get you in trouble one day,’ I said while tilting her head back for a kiss, making sure to offer a spirited bite on the exit. A sharp inhale in response tightened her neck, and I smirked, entirely aware of how her body reacted to my touch.

I traced my fingers along her tightened cords, massaging her muscles between my index and thumb until they loosened, and she was purring in content. ‘What does this mean?’ I asked as my finger landed atop the head of the dragon inked on her upper back.

‘Hm?’ She mumbled tiredly.

‘Your tattoo. Is there a story behind it?’

‘It was a birthday present from dad,’ she nodded.

‘Tell me more,’ I whispered.

‘He took me to this Asian parlor in Chinatown a week before I turned fifteen, and my mind blanked when I saw all the options. I couldn’t decide if I wanted a unicorn or a smoking gun. I must have looked at every sample three times, and there were a lot of them. Hundreds, maybe a thousand. That wall was like the Netflix of tattoos,’ she said, turning around and facing me, features basked in the lunar glow.

‘So why a dragon?’ I asked, resting my head in my palm.

‘Well, I must have been there all afternoon, just looking. My dad had fallen asleep hours ago. I think the owner, a nice Chinese lady, felt sorry for me. She asked me what I wanted my tattoo to represent. At that point in my life, the only thing I was proud of was being a girl who knew how to kick ass, so I told her I wanted something that said strength but also beauty. Graceful and powerful all at the same time. She pulled up her sleeve and showed me this – ’ she pointed to her back ‘ – and something clicked in me. It was the right one,’ she said before giggling. ‘My dad had to sleep in the living room for two weeks straight after my mom found out, but he never told me he regret it.’

‘I see,’ I said, stroking her hair. ‘You and your dad sound close.’

She pursed her lips and looked away. ‘We used to, but the distance . . . and the crazy schedule. I manage to call my parents once or twice a month, and I lie to myself about doing it more often after every conversation. But yeah, for how little we speak, we are pretty close.’

‘He’s going to want to kick my ass once he realizes I’m boning his daughter right?’ I laughed lightly.

Abigail looked up at me, the usual confidence in her eyes replaced by a version of anxious curiosity. ‘You want to meet my dad?’ The air thickened, and the quietness was somehow deafening.

‘Is that okay with you?’ I asked before holding my breath. We didn’t talk much about the future, or where this was all headed. We kept out relationship a day-to-day ordeal and it worked for us, but I’d be lying if I said I didn’t crave those conversations. But depending on her answer, we may never get around to them at all.

‘Um . . . yeah, I think that would be okay with me,’ she said softly with a slow nod.

I don’t know who started it, but we ended up smiling at each other.

‘But maybe you can meet my friends first,’ she giggled, running a hand through my hair. ‘My best friend, Julia, is having her baby shower next Saturday. I was planning on flying alone down to North Carolina but if you’d want to come along . . . ’

‘There,’ I said without hesitation. ‘I’m there, Abbey.’

A wide smile spread across her lips. ‘I call window.’

‘Oh, and what if *I* wanted window?’ I smirked, digging my fingers into her ribcage, and she immediately exploded with laughter.

‘Luke! Oh my god oh my GOD!’ she squealed, arms flailing around as I tickled her sides, body rolling erratically. I don’t know if it was her martial arts instincts kicking in, but a sharp elbow caught my nose right below the ridge.

‘Ah!’ I called out. ‘Jeez Abbey, I was just messing around!’

‘Crap! Luke, I’m sorry!’ she wailed, grabbing two tissues and handing them to me. ‘Your nose is bleeding.’

‘It’s alright,’ I chuckled as I wiped away the drops of blood on my upper lip. ‘I should probably expect rough treatment from people with the surname “May” if I’m going to meet your family.’

She laughed. ‘Well, it’s been nearly a year since I’ve seen Adam and Troy, before they began their current tours, but the last time we spoke they told me that Abu Ghraib was more or less garden variety.’

‘Oh my god, they’re going to chop off my balls, aren’t they?’ I groaned, scowling. ‘Can you ask them to at least leave one intact so I can still retain my fertility?’

‘Uh, gross. No, I’m not discussing the preservation of your testicles with my brothers, Lucas,’ she giggled, shaking her head. ‘And, I’m not sure your infertility would be so bad – I wouldn’t have to worry about taking my little pills anymore.’

‘You can be so mean, you know that?’ I said, rolling my eyes.

‘You think that’s twisted?’ she grinned. ‘Wait till you hear the story of when they made a boy eat earthworms for pulling on my pigtails in elementary school.’

‘That’s it. I’m reading up on how to survive water-boarding.’

__________________________________________

‘So? What did they say? What did they say?’ Steve asked feverishly as I walked in, pacing my office like a greyhound. I’ve been in a meeting with Simco’s main Harvard douche, and I felt like I needed a cotton swab after spending so much time listening to that sludge. I bent an eyebrow, keeping my lips pursed.

He threw his hands up in the air. ‘Either you tell me or I’m running downstairs to ask him myself, Luke,’ he snarled.

‘Calm down Flash, you’re going to rub a hole in the carpeting,’ I said with a smile. ‘They agreed to it. All of it. The settlement figures and the severance packages.’

‘Settlement figures A or B?’

‘A.’

‘Well pull my pants down and slide me on a frozen lake, holy shit!’ he called out, astonished. ‘Wait, and the public apology?’

I rubbed the back of my neck with my hand. ‘You’re still green kid, but that was a hail mary no one expected to happen. Admitting a fault of this magnitude would be suicide.’

‘They deserve every ounce of it,’ he muttered, crossing his arms. ‘I wanted to see them go down, Luke. If we didn’t intervene, this could have went on for years, decades.’

‘I know kid, I know. But the important thing is that our clients are a hell of a lot richer than they were yesterday, and everyone out there knows we’re to thank for that,’ I said, clapping a hand on his shoulder. ‘You did good kid, real good work.’

‘Yeah, whatever, thanks,’ he grinned, and the slapping of his flip-flops were almost bearable as he closed the door behind him.

This was a big win for the firm. Not only would our counsel fee be in the six-digits, a win like this meant an injection of recognition, and while I didn’t mind the positive press, it was Steve who needed it most. He’s never quite found solid footing in the firm, and others in the litigation universe consider him somewhat of a black sheep. I would have speed-dialed my shrink for indulging in this line of thinking a month ago, but I think it was time to give Steve a seat at our Monday meetings. It’d be a hard sell to Chris – hell, it’d be a hard sell to the falafel guy on Grand – but after the work he did here, he had my vote.

But more important than recognition or the wave of new clients we were sure to have pounding on our doors, we gave justice to the dozens of women who had been held down for years.

Not that I had anything against holding women down, but context matters supremely here.

This was the kind of case that got me up in the mornings, and all I wanted right now was to celebrate with Abigail over some fine red, then maybe afterwards let my cock have a few words with her as well – he was always so prolific around that woman.

‘Boss, there’s a call for you on line two – some woman called Cheryl Wynn,’ Diane’s husky voice called out from the office intercom.

*About time.* Cheryl had been a slippery one to find. Her landline was a dead end, and her cellphone number seemed non-existent. It took a week of going back and forth with former employers and tenants until I tracked her down to an accounting firm in central LA, and the line went dead as soon as she caught a whiff of “lawyer”. Repeated dials were fruitless, so I sent her an old-fashioned letter, and had been waiting with my dick in my hands ever since. I needed to get answers today, because the flame in Abigail’s eyes burned a little bluer every time I replied to her questions with “patience”.

I pressed the receiver to my ear and transferred over line two.

‘Miss Wynn, how are you?’

‘Fine, Mr. Brimstone. Sorry about taking this long to get back to you.’ She sounded hesitant, distant, and I knew I had to press on with caution.

‘No need to apologize, I completely understand. I was worried I may never hear back from you at all, or perhaps you found the physical letter strange’ I chuckled lightly.

She issued a tight laugh. It was small, but it was miles better than the cold shoulder I got last time. ‘I actually found it quite . . . convincing. I can’t remember the last time I received a letter in a business capacity. I had no idea you were representing another one of . . . *his* victims. I have to apologize for my hasty retreat prior.’

‘Yes, well I had hoped you might reconsider involvement once you knew the whole story,’ I said. ‘If I may, *have* you reconsidered, Miss Wynn?’

The ten seconds she took to respond may as well have been ten years.

‘Yes . . . I have decided I would be open to help. It took me several years to accept what happened, and I think I’m ready to talk about it,’ she murmured.

My heart lept. ‘Miss Wynn, you have no idea how much of a difference you are going to make in my client’s life. With your testimony, it should be a cinch!’

She sighed into the phone. ‘Mr. Brimstone, I wish I could, but . . . I don’t think I could testify in court . . . I can’t – I can’t see him.’

And down my heart plummeted. ‘But Miss Wynn, your version of events is vital. Please, I ask you to reconsider,’ I prodded gently.

‘Mr. Brimstone, I . . . don’t . . . think you . . . *understand*,’ she said slowly and softly, as if she was choosing each word carefully. ‘The reason it took me so many years to . . . to come to terms with what happened . . . the written report is just a fraction . . .’

‘Miss Wynn?’ I asked, entirely confused and attention devoutly fixated.

I heard her swallow before her voice turned tight and hoarse, as she was fighting tears.

‘Brett didn’t just touch me, he raped me.’

________________________________________________________

When I was a senior in high school, a girl in the year below me was raped. There was a fierce uproar from the parents to maintain safety, and in an effort to instill compassion into the boys, our principal asked a rape survivor to give a talk. The sorrow in the echoes of those gymnasium walls still rang clear in my head to this day, reminding me that the pain never goes away completely, it just becomes more tolerable. Cheryl had been doled the same treatment.

And if she didn’t grow up breathing martial arts, so would have Abigail.

‘Okay, I thought you got the memo already, all that staring is seriously creepy,’ Abigail laughed as she locked up the store. I’d been outside waiting for her for nearly two hours, eyeing her like a hawk.

Too much time for my thoughts to wander.

‘My place. We’re going back to my place, *now*,’ I said in a voice that didn’t call for rebuttal.

‘So possessive,’ she giggled.

You have no idea.

Few words came out of my mouth on the way back, and I nodded along to today’s featured fables. The one about the woman who realized she forgot her wallet after racking up eight thousand dollars at the counter. The one about the plus sized lady who broke three pairs of heels. The one about the pregnant teen who vomited onto a rack of scarves – I didn’t know who to feel more sorry for in that situation.

If my silence threw her off, she didn’t show it, and she was all smiles and kisses in the elevator. I threw her a smoldering glance as I opened my apartment door for her, and she knew the protocol. Jean jacket, gone. Dress khakis, gone. Dress shirt, undershirt, and socks, gone gone and gone. Some might say that this has become automated, but the truth was that there were no reservations between us anymore, and when that door shut out the world behind us, the language we chose was one of our bodies against one another.

I threw her onto my bed before undressing, and the few feet of distance between us seemed like a mile. One stride in and I was pressed up above her, gripping her waist forcibly with both hands. She let out a willowy gasp and stared into my eyes, and the message in the look I returned with was clear: I want you. Right. Now.

My hands groped desperately for every inch of her body as she moaned, skin receptors overclocked. She met my challenge with hectic nails on skin, and the sharpness only furthered my exploration. This wasn’t typical foreplay, this preface was infused with momentous urgency, and soon we were both breathing heavy from the frenetic pacing.

I bit the supple flesh of her belly as I removed her bra, and toyed with the cherry tips that bloomed into my tease. ‘Mm…’ she hummed as I slid down her panties and found that pink gem sitting atop her arousal. She was always wet within seconds, and I didn’t need further indication to plunge right into her.

‘Abigail,’ I whispered into her ear, relishing the sound of her name on my tongue as I moved my hips. My hands clasped on either side of her head, locking her eyes on me. I wanted, needed to *see* her.

‘Faster,’ she heaved, hands fisted in my hair and legs rowing inwards, welcoming me further inside.

‘Abigail,’ I cried hoarsely, quickening the rhythm of my hips while forgetting how to blink, and I don’t think she knew either. The world disappeared around us, and for now, nothing else registered as important enough for thought.

‘Faster,’ she groaned, her challenge coupled with both hands now making indents in my skin. Grunting from exertion, I hammered into her as fast as I my muscles would allow, thrusting my hips deeper with every lunge.

‘Yes! Yes! Yes!’ she cried out as her nails dug deeper still, and that was all the celebration I needed. No red could hold a candle to the heady rush that hit me after hearing that declaration.

The sharp sting of broken skin barely registered, outcompeted by the shivers from her body, and she was there, face contorted in that perfect way that abandoned all constraint.

‘Abigail!’ I screamed as my building orgasm reached its summit, the emotions all concluding at the head of my cock. Every muscle burned, and my arms gave out before I ended up splayed on top of her.

‘Can’t breathe,’ she croaked underneath, and I rolled off of her, barely sentient.

‘You know you’re safe with me, right?’ I whispered, taking her hand.

‘Of course,’ she squeezed. ‘Though I did wonder for a second if you were going to wear my face for Halloween after seeing your katana collection.

‘I would protect you from anything, and I wouldn’t let anyone hurt you,’ I said, and the look in my eyes must have been concerning enough, because she pressed a hand onto my chest and bent her brow.

‘Luke?’

I didn’t know what to say, eyes finding the scar on her thigh. She told me it was from jumping off a moving taxi with a driver too touchy-feely for her liking, and I wondered why she seemed to always attract the wrong attention. She was dazzling gorgeous with a platinum personality, but it seemed like she had a gravitational pull for douchebags.

‘Abbey,’ I started. ‘I heard back from Cheryl Wynn. She agree to meet us next weekend.’

‘Luke, that’s – what?! That’s fantastic!’

‘But she’s not going to testify,’ I said tightly, avoiding her eyes. ‘She doesn’t want to see him.’

‘What? Why? We *need* her to testify, and look, I understand how traumatic an unwanted grope feels like, *trust* me, but it’s been six years!’

I could only sigh.

Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/7dpkua/downing_abbey_chapter_10_mf