Held Captive – part 2

read part 1 here

He walks the same path. The same path he walked days ago and had been walking each night for over a year. For a year, the cabin had been dark. Pitch as black, inside. On the outside, wind tossed leaves kiss the weathered wood sometimes skipping up the stairs, sometimes skipping down but always whispering hoping to comfort the lonely cabin.

Would she be there again tonight?

Sitting as she has been sitting each night since he saw the flickering light in the cabin three nights ago?

Any other cabin and he would not have ventured close enough to peer through the window. Any other cabin, he would have just walked by, continued on the path, never leaving the path.

But this wasn’t just any cabin.

This had been their cabin.

Would she be there again tonight?

Sitting as if frozen in time?

What would he do if she were there again tonight?

The first night he saw her, she had stolen his breath. She was so beautiful, not like the rotting corpse he had seen over a year ago.

He could almost smell her fragrance, not the perfume she rarely wore but her female essence, not the gagging rotten smell of a decomposing corpse he had smelled over a year ago.

Would she be there again tonight?

What would he do?

Each night since the first night he saw her, he stood in the shadows looking through the window. Watching.

Watching her.

Except for the slight movement of her lungs, she could have been a statue, carved in flesh.

Except for the barest discernible movement of her eye skittering underneath her eyelid, she could have been molded out of clay and disguised in flesh.

Except for the alertness of mind, sensualness of body, and the embodiment of soul, she could have been an illusion captured from his mind.

This night, he didn’t stop once he turned the corner in the path and saw the flickering light just as he had each night these past three nights.

He didn’t stop to stand in the shadows of the porch to watch her for hours, sitting, never moving as he had each of the previous three nights.

He did this night, turn the silent knob of the door, to step into the shadows inside the house.

Her female essence burned a pathway through his nasal passages to his lungs into his brain.

Neither his eyes, nor his ears alerted him to her sudden awareness of him even though he had made no sound and she made no movement. His skin prickled as he had no doubt hers did the second he walked into the room. They had an awareness of each other that was unexplainable.

He chose not to hide in the shadows any more. He stepped boldly around the sofa to stand before her. He reached out his long strong fingers tracing a line from her temple down her cheek to her lips. So lightly he was not sure if she felt it, for she neither flinched, nor gave the slightest indication that she was aware of his touch and yet he knew his touch burned her like her skin burned his finger wherever he touched her.

She held him captive.

He would never leave her again.

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About Kate Spyder

I'm a creative individual finding her way in her writing. I enjoy expressing my deep thoughts through poetry and stories. I hope you enjoy them as much as I enjoy writing them.
This entry was posted in Erotic Fiction and tagged , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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