His Beautiful Wench (8 page)

“You did.”

“Did you…?”

“I did. I had to.” He moved his head so he could see behind her. “Bates took you. I panicked and followed him to his ship. He wouldn’t tell me where you were. I thought he’d give in, tell me.” He looked at her, pleading with his eyes, and gripped her forearms. “Please say you forgive me, for I can’t forgive myself.”

She cupped his face. “Is he dead?”

His answer a nod, he closed his eyes for a moment, a distant shout snapping them open. “Christ. We have to go.” He clasped her wrist and pulled her along, glancing back every so often.

The alley ended and they ran out onto a cobblestone road bordering a forest. Trees spread out ahead, their trunks wide and the branches abundant with leaves. A rough path had been worn into the ground and they took it, wending through the forest. A little way in, the ground inclined sharply and Amelia steeled herself for the climb to the clifftop. Sunlight struggled to penetrate the greenery, thin shafts of it lighting their way. Her breaths grew more labored but she pushed on, sweat breaking out all over her body, the skirt of her dress an encumbrance. She held it up, thankful for the rush of air between her legs, and plowed on.

At the top of the rise, the tree line ended and the clifftop spread out before them. The whorehouse stood about a half mile from the edge and they headed for it silently, Amelia’s thoughts flitting from one thing to another. Being trapped in that box. The man on the ship. His plunge into the sea. The gunshot…

Relief soughed through her as they approached the cottage. The front door had never been such a welcome sight. Emmett reached it first and opened it, holding out his hand for her to enter first. The smell of perfume and sex assailed her and Amelia battled the bile that rose to her throat. She stumbled up the stairs, the groans of customers overly loud, and made for the attic door. Flinging it open, she took the steps two at a time, Emmett close behind. She rushed to the window and leaned on the sill, her breaths harsh. Her lover spanned her waist with his hands and pressed his chest against her back.

“No one is coming,” she said, panting. “Do they know where I live? Where your rooms are?” Standing upright, she covered his hands with hers and leaned her head back.

Emmett kissed her temple. “No, but I assume they could find out if they chose to.”

Her stomach flipped over. “Oh God. What if—?”

“You’ll be safe. Madam won’t let anyone up here.”

Amelia turned to face him, brought her hands about his back. “But if she thinks they are a genuine customer and they come up here instead of going to one of the girls’ rooms…”

“Shh.” He touched a finger to her lips. “I’ll speak with her. Make her understand the importance of being careful about the men.”

“And what of my job at the saloon? That is, if it didn’t burn down.”

His eyes narrowed and he stared out the window behind her. “Would you mind giving it up if I kept you? Gave you money?”

She searched his eyes, wondering what she would do without the distraction of work while he was away. If it meant she’d be safe, if it meant filling her time with mindless tasks until they could be together permanently, she would give up her job. She nodded and the thought of Bates’ men finding Emmett before he set sail again entered her mind.

“What if they find you before you leave? Or worse, what if they follow your ship and capture you out at sea? I’ll never know until it’s too late.” The burn of tears angered her and she pulled away from him, the gravity of their situation hitting her full force. Pacing the room, she said, “I can’t live without you, Emmett. You know that, don’t you?” Unable to look at him, she walked to the bed and flung herself down. Huddled in a ball, she hugged her knees, the pain of possibly losing him already flooding her veins.

“My beautiful wench! God bless you, but we will never be apart. Never. You must believe that.” He strode to the bed and climbed on, settling behind her with his hand across her stomach. “The crew will see to it that Bates’ men bring me no harm.”

“But what if they are overpowered? What then?” She let the tears fall, let sobs rack her body. “What would I do without you?” Her throat swelled and she closed her eyes. Hot tears spilled and her lips trembled.

“My darling, darling woman.” Emmett turned her over and pressed her body to his. He kissed away her tears and encompassed her in his warm embrace. “It’s our destiny to be together, you understand? Nothing will keep us from one another, not even death.” He sighed, a ragged, emotion-filled exhalation, and held her tighter. “Whatever realm we go to when we die, I’d come and find you, seek you out and bring you to me. Hold you in my arms. Love you all over again. I’ll be safe, I promise, and we
will
live that life we’ve dreamed of. Please stop crying. Your tears rip at my heart.”

Amelia held her breath and willed herself quiet, concentrating on his special smell. She closed her eyes and gave herself up to the moment—to just being in his arms. They remained that way for some time before he stirred. She opened her eyes and he propped himself up on an elbow, looking down at her. He slid his hand beneath her skirt, brought the fabric up to her waist and she sat up, lifting her arms so he could remove the dress. Beside him once more, she reveled in his hand smoothing up and down her back.

“Close your eyes and let me touch you,” he whispered.

She smiled and obeyed, rolling onto her back. The mattress shifted as he moved and his inner thighs brushed her outer legs. He grasped her wrists and placed them above her head.

“Don’t touch me. Keep your hands there.”

His voice, his words, aroused her and she shivered with anticipation. He glided his fingertips lightly from her shoulders to her breasts. Featherlight touches brushed over her nipples, circled her areolas before he palmed her swells, repeating the motions again and again. She arched her back, pushing her breasts up so he would handle her more firmly, but he persisted with his soft ministrations. He would drive her insane if he kept this up, but she wouldn’t let him know it. She joined her hands, threading her fingers, and squeezed rhythmically. Her eyes fluttered and she breathed deeply to concentrate not on how quickly he worked but on what he was doing. His touch was assured, each glide of his skin against hers designed to torture—sweet torture, but torture just the same. She closed her eyes and allowed him to caress her breasts, her stomach and her sides. He moved his hands up, cupped her shoulders and kneaded, easing the tension out of her muscles. Sinking into the mattress, she entered a dazed state as she accepted Emmett would do whatever he intended whether she tried to change his mind or not.

“You feel beautiful,” he whispered, gliding his hands over her breasts again. “You’re so soft. So lovely.”

Juices trickled from her cunt at the sound of his words and she said, “I’ve missed you…
this
so much.”

He plucked her nipples and stabs of pleasure shot from her breasts to her center. Caressing her body, he returned to her breasts to tweak her hard buds, making her body jerk and her bud ache for him. Each time she opened her mouth to tell him to pinch harder, he stroked her skin instead with slow, easy movements. She counted the times he swept his hands over her body, waiting for when he would twist her nipples again. The anticipation was heady, keeping her alert and wanting, her body tense. She enjoyed the game, and when he did finally touch her nipples the surprise brought stronger waves of pleasure to her folds. She let out a ragged breath only to snatch it back in as he tweaked harder and for longer. Soon she was unable to take any more.

Nub throbbing, she whispered, “Touch me lower. Please…”

Emmett ignored her, only sliding his hands to span her stomach. His mouth covered one nipple, teeth lightly nipping, and the shock nearly had her opening her eyes. He sucked, tugging on the taut peak the way she liked, as she knew he would. She cried out, almost reaching her pain threshold. Emmett eased the pressure a little, then sucked and reared his head back once more, the torment too much for her, too intense.

“Stop, I…”

He let her nipple go. It ached, and despite wanting the sweet torture to end, she longed for more. As though picking up on her thoughts, he tongued her nipple, sucking it as before. Amelia clasped her hands together tighter, wanting to cry out yet at the same time testing herself to see how far she could go. He pulled harder, his fingers stroking her waist, circling her navel, and she clenched her cunt, willed herself not to gasp.

She failed, snatching in air.

Breast free of his mouth, she lifted her pelvis, needing him to cater to her throbbing bud. The mattress dipped again as he shuffled his knees farther down the bed then settled between her legs, the heat of his breath on her slit forcing the air out of her lungs. Her torso juddered beneath his questing fingers and she itched to pinch her nipples. Instead, she squeezed her hands again. His tongue parted her. The tip swirled around her nub and a blaze of sensation warmed the folds.

“Oh God, Emmett…”

“I’m going to sup your cream. Lick you, make you want me so much you can’t breathe.”

He flattened his tongue, licking her with quick strokes, fingers smoothing down her body to widen her slit. She bucked as he worked faster, exquisite waves of pleasure ebbing and flowing in and around her bud. Panting, she writhed, unclasping her hands and gripping the headboard spindles. She dug her nails into her palms, the bite adding to her excitement. Tongue flicking from side to side, Emmett brought her to the brink of orgasm then stopped, kissing her mound and her lower belly. She hissed out between clenched teeth, frustrated but knowing when he touched her
there
again the pleasure would be stronger. He took his mouth from her belly and didn’t move. She waited, eyes still closed, and listened to the sounds around them—their breaths, a creaking bed downstairs, faint moans from customers, footsteps on the wooden floor below. She longed to open her eyes, to see whether he studied her, but at the same time not knowing suited her. And she waited, her heart picking up speed, her wet nub throbbing in time with it. God, how she wanted to let go and slide her hands into his hair, pushing his mouth down onto her slit, directing his movements and orchestrating the pressure. To tell him to sup her now, beg if she had to. But she remained silent, confident he knew exactly when to begin again.

At last, movement! He hooked his hands beneath her buttocks and lifted her, setting her lower half on his thighs. His balls rested against her ass, their softness and warmth arousing her beyond measure. Emmett brushed his hands up and down her legs, thumbs skating close to her thatch each time he reached the top. When he drew away she almost cried out in frustration, wanting more of the touch of his fingertips beside her mound. He leaned back to caress her shins, then her calves and she loosed a strangled moan. God, he teased her so! She needed his hands higher up, at her nub, which pulsed and swelled with every passing second. Sliding his hands beneath her knees, he pushed so her legs bent and she placed her feet beside him on the bed. He spread her legs and she could only imagine the sight of herself open for his viewing.

“Beautiful, wench. Beautiful.”

Her stomach flipped at the hoarseness of his voice, a voice that belied the fact he was in control. He was close, she sensed it, and it wouldn’t be long before he could hold back no longer and plunged inside her. She hoped it would be soon, because she was close to coming herself. The slowness of his actions had brought her to a high state of arousal, and just the slightest touch now might send her over the edge.

Thumbs sliding up and down each lip of her slit, Emmett tortured Amelia some more. She jolted, eyes nearly springing open, and waited to feel what he would do next. He placed his thumbs together then glided them down to her opening, easing them inside with his fingers splayed over her mound. He pressed his thumbs and fingers together, her pelvic bone in between, and moved his thumbs up and down the upper wall of her sheath. Suddenly, he curved his thumb tips and touched something deep inside her, a place he had never been before. A sharp sensation had her abdomen jerking and she almost,
almost
opened her eyes.

“Did you like that?” he asked, dragging his thumbs down then returning them to that place, pressing with his fingers.

The sensation came again, and now he concentrated on the area, rubbing what felt like a ridge inside her. She nodded, wondering what would happen if he kept stroking. Amelia didn’t have to wait long before successive shots of fierce pleasure momentarily took away her ability to breathe.

“I told you I’d take away your breath. Good. That feels good, doesn’t it, wench?”

She nodded and gasped, riding out the new feelings his thumbs produced. As the bite receded, her bud still throbbing and in need of attention, he eased his thumbs out and gripped her waist. Without warning, he thrust his cock inside her, fucking her hard and fast. She clenched her sheath around him, gripped the bed spindles tighter and gave in to the rising tide.

“Ah, wench!” he ground out.

His firm thrusts nudged her up the bed and she crossed her ankles at his lower back, her whole body tingling with excitement. Juices coated his cock, the length of him gliding in and out easily, the aroma of sex heightening her desire. She came, bucking, keening, emotions running so high they overwhelmed her with their intensity. Emmett’s low moans and grunts brought on another wave of pleasure and her cunt ached with it. Wet heat filled her and her lover loosed a strangled yell, pushing into her with short jabs as he emptied himself into her contracting sheath. He slowed to a stop and lowered his body to hers, brushing her cheeks with sweet kisses.