by Nathalie Dae
More images crowded her mind. Amelia seated at the window, sharp blade in hand, carving those lines in the sill. Another day with him gone. Her staring out at that sea, squinting for sight of his ship on the horizon. Sorrow and desolation when he failed to arrive, exaltation and delirium when his ship broke the line of ocean and sky, the tiny speck of it heralding his imminent arrival. Longing. Desire. Her body aching for his touch, for his whispered words in her ear.
The footsteps stilled. Taking in a huge breath, Amelia opened her eyes.
He stood at the top of the stairs, arms held out for her. A sob caught in her throat and tears pricked her eyes. His sun-weathered face… God, how she itched to touch it, to run her fingertips over his full lips, to weave her hands in his thick, wavy hair.
“Emmett,” she whispered, his name foreign yet so right on her tongue.
He rewarded her with a wide grin. “Ah, you couldn’t keep the game going, I see. Come here.”
She ran toward him, all fear gone, her past—or was it her future?—obliterated, replaced with the need to feel his chest against hers, his kiss on her lips. He pulled her into an embrace, one hand on her ass, the other roaming her back. She nestled her face in the crook of his neck and a strangled cry built in her chest and left her mouth. She touched her lips to his collarbone, the heat from his skin searing. His hand left her back to weave through her hair, fingertips massaging her scalp.
“By God, I’ve missed you, wench.”
His voice sent shivers of desire through her, his use of “wench” an almost illicit, daring term that prodded her need for him higher. She hugged him to her, the planes of his back hard and familiar beneath her hands. He smelled of sunshine, salt and that indefinable scent that was undeniably Emmett Dray. The smell she conjured on the nights she lay in bed after working at the saloon, hoping the memory of it would bring him into her dreams. The nights she tried unsuccessfully to sleep in her attic room, the moans and sighs from the men and women in the whorehouse below making her wish she and Emmett were creating those noises. Tears spilled and she thanked God Emmett had returned to her safe—and prayed he would remain here for longer than his usual week between voyages. Those days sped by so fast she barely had time to become accustomed to his arrival before they once again held one another close beside the dock and prepared to say goodbye.
Don’t think of him leaving when he has only just arrived.
She sniffed and lifted her head, taking in the sight of him. More lines had appeared beside his eyes—him squinting due to the harsh sun, she’d wager—and he’d tanned darker than any other time she could remember. Where had he voyaged, this man of hers, to be so brown?
He rubbed his nose against hers and tilted his head, eyes closing as his lips touched hers. A thrill rushed through her and she tightened her hold on him, crushed him closer. She opened her mouth to invite his tongue in and it met hers. A groan cut short in her throat and she loved him with her mouth, pressing her pelvis into his. Hard cock greeted her and she moaned again, needing him inside her.
He broke the kiss, cupped her face and stared into her eyes.
Do they remind him of the ocean? Are they the same bright blue?
“It’s been difficult for you this time, Amelia?” He touched his brow to hers.
“It’s always difficult. Always.” She sighed and fingered his shoulder blades, ran her nails down his spine. “I’ll never get used to it. When will you—”
“Hush. There’s time later to discuss my next voyage.”
He lifted her into his arms and carried her over to a double bed, its head and footboards fashioned from iron poles. A multicolored patchwork quilt covered the mattress, a corner folded over, a sheet beneath. With one foot on the bed, he balanced her upon his knee, her back cradled in his arm, and used his free hand to fling the quilt aside. He lowered her onto the bed and looked down at her, the rigidity of his cock evident underneath his shirtfront. She held her breath at the sheer beauty of him, at the reality that he was truly here. He raised his arm and slid his hand beneath her neckline, lifting the material to peek beneath. He smiled, caressed her swells with his thumb and she released her breath. His splayed palm warmed her chest and he moved it toward her neck, one finger tracing the dip at the base of her throat.
“I love you, my beautiful wench.”
Emmett took his hand away and the loss of contact pained Amelia. She reached out to grasp his wrist. He leaned to one side and took off his boots, her grip steadying him.
“Come to me,” she said, the ache in her bud all-consuming.
God she needed him. She pulled up her skirt and widened her legs. He climbed onto the bed, kneeling between them, the mattress dipping beneath his weight. Amelia stared at him, wanting to read his expressions and remember them, shelve them for the lonely times to come. He smiled and raised one eyebrow. A pink blush colored his cheeks and she eyed the smattering of chest hair peeking from the open neck of his shirt. She itched to touch it, to feel it against her skin, and squirmed beneath him. Warm hands smoothed along her calves, over her knees and up her thighs. Her breath hitched at his touch, her pulse picking up speed. Thumb tips brushed her mound, the softness of his movement making her cunt throb. He cocked his head and shifted her skirt higher. His eyes widened.
“By God! Did you allow those women downstairs to fashion your undergarments?”
Amelia frowned and looked down, her head supported by pillows. A scanty piece of black material covered her thatch, familiar yet not. Did the whorehouse women or Madam create her underwear? A moment of confusion lingered before dissipating completely.
“It’s nothing more than a strip of fabric!” His rich laugh filled her attic room and he gazed down at her, blue eyes bright. “My, you’re an amazing woman. So bold yet so innocent in allowing those females of the night to influence you.”
He grazed her lower belly, his fingertips featherlight, teasing. She tensed, waiting for him to ravish her, needing him to handle her with gentle roughness, yet his hands played over her skin with no urgency. She raised her hips, conveying to him her desire that he move faster, but his grin told her he had taken charge.
Frustrated, she whispered, “Hurry. I want you so much. Need you.”
Emmett gave her a lazy smile and bent his head, his breath hot on her inner thighs, day-old beard growth rasping her skin. She sucked in a breath, eager for him to lick her folds, to bring her the joy she craved. Shock waves buzzed to her slit and her hips jolted upward. If only he would taste her now, stop teasing and just sup her juices. She fisted the sheet beneath her.
Take me. I need you to take me…
He breathed in, a long intake of air.
Does he do what I do? Remember my scent when in his bunk at night? Does his throat thicken when he recalls it, tears close?
Love for him bloomed, her chest tight. God, how she’d missed him, and upon his return she realized she’d missed him even more than she’d thought. Cool air bathed her cunt as he pushed her underwear aside and parted her with finger and thumb. Her bud ached with the need to be touched and she lifted her ass in an attempt to make him lick her. He waited and Amelia grasped the back of his neck, pushing his head down a little. God help her for appearing greedy, but she would go insane if he didn’t sup from her soon. A puff of hot breath heated her a second before his tongue swept up her slit, circling the sensitive nub at the top. She cried out, his languid torment sweet yet maddening. She wound her fingers in his hair, the tresses coarse from sea salt, the feel of them heaven. He laved up and down, every so often dipping his tongue tip inside her.
She keened, staring down at him, watching as he lapped her wetness. The sight brought a rush of desire and she gripped his hair tighter, biting her lower lip as pleasure spread through her folds. She thrashed her head from side to side, canting her hips even higher, and let out a ragged sigh. Her nipples ached, taut and pressed against her bodice, and she wished his mouth in two places at once. Again she looked down at his bobbing head, at her
hands in his hair. Amelia gasped as pleasure built and her abdomen spasmed, his tongue strokes harder each time her ass lifted from the bed. Juices seeped out of her and Emmett lapped them up. He circled her nub then slid his tongue inside her, repeating the motions until pressure swelled her throbbing bud and she whimpered.
Her orgasm came on swiftly, a raging burn that spread up her channel to the pit of her stomach. She keened again and clutched his head, willing his tongue faster, harder, but he continued with soft strokes, drawing out her pleasure. The torturous abrasion nudged the intensity up a notch and she cried out as it spread through her lower body. Her nipples grew harder, the peaks achingly taut, and she let go of his hair to massage her breasts through her dress. Her orgasm nearing its peak, she lifted her hips higher and Emmett applied a little more tongue pressure, pushing two fingers inside her. She bucked, loosed a ragged moan and more of her juices spilled. The sensations in her cunt grew as he licked and fucked her with his fingers. The pressure of his strokes set off a fiercer throb and her hips undulated. She handled her breasts harder, squeezing their softness until the passion receded and she stilled her hands, resting them flat on her chest.
Emmett raised his head and she gazed down at him, panting, her eyes half-closed, her heart rate fast. Her cream glistened on his lips and he dashed out his tongue, slowly licking her wetness away. Aftershocks stabbed her throbbing nub and she wanted him again, wanted his cock inside her. He shifted up, his body covering hers, his hardness pushing against her slick mound. She raised her abdomen to gain more pressure, so ready for more of what he had to give. He stared at her, one hand cupping her cheek, the other in her hair. He lowered his mouth to claim hers. His kiss tasted of her juices and she took what he offered, arms about his back. They explored one another’s tongues and she kissed him hard, low moans dying in her throat. She moved her hands down to cup his backside and kneaded, loving the feel of him, loving the way he fit against her. He rose, hands flat on the mattress beside her, and she mourned the loss of his mouth on hers. Licking her lips, she brought her hands up between them, staring into his eyes. She began to undo his shirt. The stubborn buttons refused to be freed easily and she fought the urge to rip open the fabric so she could touch him. Quickly, she finished her task and laid her palms to his chest, the feel of his skin hot on hers.
“I want to be inside you. I need you so much, wench.”
His flushed cheeks and half-lidded eyes showed his desire and she snagged her fingers in the curls on his chest then swept her hands over his skin to rest on his shoulders.
He swooped down for another quick kiss, rose again and leaned on one hand while the other freed her breast. Rough with calluses from his ship’s rigging, he brushed his hand over her nipple. The scuff of his coarse skin sent shudders of delight through her and she arched her back, pressing her breast into his palm.
“You’re a beauty,” Emmett whispered, his gaze meeting hers. “I dreamed of you every night and sometimes during the day. I had many a time when my mind wandered to thoughts of you.” He rolled her nipple between finger and thumb. “And sometimes my cock got so hard it ached.”
Amelia snatched in a breath and dug her nails into him. His words… God they were shocking, but she loved it when he spoke to her this way. He pinched her nipple in rhythm with her pulse and she embraced his lower back, pressing his rigidity to her folds. His eyes conveyed so much—so many words and emotions.
“Being with you like this,” he whispered, “is all I want. All I’ll ever want.”
Emotions betraying her, a tear escaped, trailing a hot path to her temple and disappearing into her hair. Emmett released her nipple, leaned down and kissed the now-cold tear track, his soft lips peppering the shell of her ear.
“I missed you,” Amelia murmured, her hands cupping his ass. “I wish—”
“As do I, my wench,” he whispered, his breath warming her ear.
Emmett reared up and removed his shirt, tossing it to the floor. A wave of longing encompassed her and she helped remove his breeches. He lay beside her propped up on one elbow and smoothed his free hand up and down her belly. She caressed the small of his back, her other hand fondling her exposed nipple to tease him, make him want her more. She bent her legs and let the knee farthest from him flop to the bed.
“I’m waiting,” she whispered. “Look at me.” She glanced down at her thatch. “Look at what waits for you.”
Her bold words made Emmett suck in a sharp breath. She smiled, enjoying the way he pressed closer to her side, how his hand stroked her belly faster.
Her gaze locked with his and her emotions spiraled. She wanted to tease him like he had teased her, yet at the same time she couldn’t wait for his cock to fill her. The conflicting feelings brought a stronger surge of longing and she gave in to them, allowing her body to rule her mind.
“I want you to take me. Want to feel you inside me. Please, just…”
He smiled—infuriating!—and trailed his fingertips down to the inside of one leg beside her knee. He swirled a circular pattern there, her skin oversensitive, her desire spiking again. Her hips bucked involuntarily.
“You like that, don’t you?” he asked, his voice hoarse.
Amelia nodded. “Please…don’t tease me.”
His eyes darkened and he moaned, swiftly ripping the thin side strips of her underwear and moving on top of her. His cock speared her cunt and she cried out, hands clutching his buttocks.
Wrapping her legs around his, she lifted her hips. “I want you to fuck me hard and fast. Take me quickly. Please. No more teasing. I’ve waited too long.”
She stared at his face, saw the indecision there as to whether he would comply with her wishes or draw out the torment. Hands flat on the mattress beneath her pillow, Emmett raised his chest and looked down at her, his thrusts sharp. She loosed a short, victorious scream. Her hands spanned his ass cheeks and she pushed him closer, his pelvis grinding against her throbbing nub.
He kissed her with a hunger that matched her own, then lifted his head, his gaze searching for hers. The intensity of his stare stirred her desire and the spiral of a second orgasm gripped her core. He sucked on her nipple, pulling it toward him, flashing his tongue across it. A spark of bliss shot from there to her cunt, heightening her steadily growing pleasure. She released a whoosh of groan-laden air and gasped as his cock swelled further.
“God… Emmett… I’m…”
Her channel clenched around him and the coiling lust burst through her. She dug her nails into his ass and keened, heady sensations overwhelming her. Tears spilled, as did his seed, the wet heat of it sending her orgasm to a higher level. She loved the feel of him coming, how his cock pulsated and swelled inside her. Her head went giddy and she hiked in a breath that snagged in her throat.
“Christ, I love you, wench.”
A second spurt of cum soaked her sheath. His throbbing cock glided with ease, their juices mixing. The scent of sex wafted over her and she smoothed her hands over his buttocks, wanting to touch all of him at once. He leaned down and kissed her tears away. His movements slowed and her orgasm receded, leaving her nub sensitive, the pulse of it bordering on pain. With heavy, shaking limbs, Amelia concentrated on regulating her breathing. Emmett kissed her jawline, her chin and finally her lips. She closed her eyes and opened her mouth to his, their kiss languid and sweet.
A swell of sentiment rushed over her and a sob rose from deep inside. She tried to hold it back, but it escaped. He took his mouth from hers and regarded her.
“You are my lady,” he said, his voice unsteady. “My wonderful lady.”
He pulled out and settled beside her, holding his arm aloft for her to snuggle against his chest. She rested her arm over his stomach, the dress a barrier between them, but she had no energy to remove it.
“Where did you go this time?” she asked, his heartbeat a comfort beneath her ear.
“We sailed to an island two days away from the coast. I bought a sculpture while ashore. One t
hat reminded me of you. It is in the shape of a nude female with long flowing locks. I shall bring it here for safekeeping, for I’ll be gone again by the week’s end.”
Amelia’s stomach lurched and she held him tighter.
Only four days with each other? My God, I don’t know if I can stand these separations forever, yet what is there in my life without Emmett? I’d rather endure the time apart than never see him at all.
“Can you not keep it at your rooms? I will worry with it here. So many men pass through this place. Any one of them could wander up here while I’m working at the saloon and take it. Is it valuable?”
Emmett stroked her cheek and kissed the top of her head. “It cost a fair amount, yes, but surely you keep your door locked?”
She blushed and thought of the women, women who had become her friends, despite them being free with their favors. Women who took men down into the basement below the linens room if they were too loud and entertained them there. Women who sometimes used her room when too many customers happened by.
“I don’t lock it, no.”
“Then you should. I don’t like the thought of you vulnerable up here. The thought of people coming into your private space when you aren’t around.” He sighed and the exhalation ruffled her hair. “I only have two voyages left and I will have made enough money to keep us for many years to come. We can marry. We should have married long ago. It worries me that people look at you as though you are loose.”
Amelia smiled and rubbed his waist with her thumb. “I wanted a marriage day to remember and enough funds so we can live comfortably. A celebration like that costs money. Besides, I don’t care what they think. When we have what we want, it will make all the suffering worth it. I have saved some money also, though it won’t be as much as yours.”