His Beautiful Wench (23 page)

Her own need crested and she caressed her breasts, gaze fixed on his face. He opened his eyes and stared down at her, cheeks flushed, teeth biting his lower lip. She gave in, allowed her body to take over, and a pain-tinged sweep of delight surged through her. Crying out, she pushed her breasts together, inviting Emmett to suckle. He thrust harder, his cock gliding with the aid of both their secretions, and leaned down, licking her nipples and sucking one tip before moving to the other. Her body spasmed and her breath caught in her throat, leaving her lightheaded. Shocks rippled from her nub to her folds, receding in intensity the slower Emmett rocked. Amelia exhaled a long, shaky breath and placed her hands on either side of his head, gently drawing his face toward hers for a deep, soul-searing kiss.

He rolled them to their sides and took her in his arms, chin on top of her head as she rested her cheek to his shirted chest. His heart beat hard and fast, matching the throb of hers. She trailed her fingertips up and down his back, snaking her leg between his and scooting closer. She needed as much of him touching her as possible. A sense of being safe and untouchable cocooned her for a moment. Then what they had yet to do loomed in her mind like a poisonous cloud and she held him tighter, squeezing her eyes closed to stop those burning tears from falling.

“I love you so much, Amelia,” he whispered.

“I love you too, Emmett. Desperately.”

* * * * *

The shuffle of footsteps overhead roused Amelia. She settled onto her back and opened her eyes to darkness.

“Morning, wench,” Emmett said, voice sleep-filled.

“Morning. Did you sleep well?” She rolled onto her side and nestled close.

“Surprisingly good, considering.” He stroked up and down her spine, Helena’s cloak and dress preventing the delicious feel of skin on skin. “Have you been awake long?”

“No. It sounds like everyone upstairs is awake too. I heard them talking. It’s gone quiet now, so I imagine the women are packing.”

Emmett hugged her tighter. “I love you, wench. It will work out, you’ll see. By next week this will all be a bad memory.”

God, I hope so.

She leaned up on one elbow and squinted down at him. “I’m going to wash.” She thought of the black gown and cloak still covering her. “Once the women have gone, I’ll change into my own clothes.”

Leaning over, she sought out his lips, bumping noses with him instead. Laughter burbled out of her and it felt good, sounded good. Emmett joined her and together they released the tension that had built since his return from sea. Once composed, she took off her clothing, lying back down and kissing Emmett long and hard. His arousal nudged her cunt and she smiled at the feel of it on her mound. She rose and settled herself between his legs and stared into his eyes as she took the sculpture sack from across his body and placed it on the floor. She unbuttoned his shirt, peeling it away to reveal his muscled chest beneath. Smoothing her hands over his body, she paused to brush her thumbs over his nipples, her mouth curving when they sprang up in arousal.

“Ah, you want me so much, don’t you, Emmett?” She drew her hands down to his waistband and shuffled backward, pulling his breeches down his legs, taking them off and throwing them to the floor. “You won’t be needing these.”

He smiled his lazy smile. “You’re a naughty girl, wench.”

Amelia stared at him, licked her lips then said, “And I’m going to become even naughtier.”

She moved back up the bed, closer to his groin, and sat on her haunches. Leaning down, and with slow, teasing strokes, she licked his hardness from base to tip, covering him with her mouth. Emmett groaned and lifted his hips, his cock going deeper into her mouth. She sucked and licked, holding his base, drawing her hand up and down his cock as she fucked him with her mouth. He buried his hands in her hair, fisting them, the light tugs to her scalp making her channel clench. His vein throbbed and she sucked on, harder now, with more suction, to test him, see how long it would be before he couldn’t hold off any longer. Her nipples tautened and as she continued on his cock, she moved back a little then rose to her knees. Parting her legs, she dipped her other hand into her folds, making sure her arm brushed his inner leg so he knew what she was doing.

“God, are you touching yourself?” he asked.

She glanced up and made out his head raised in the darkness, him looking down at her sucking him and fondling herself. Amelia lowered her gaze and rubbed her nub and slit, rocking her body into her hand and her mouth onto his cock.

“Amelia, stop!”

She ignored him and sucked on, his plea ratcheting up her desire. Knowing he was so close almost had her coming, and she eased off on her bud, lifting her head from him and moving to lie by his side. She turned him to face her and lifted her leg, laying it across his hip, pushing her wet slit toward him. He moved closer, settling between her legs, and she positioned the one beneath him to match the one above. Lifting her hand, she offered him her fingers. He sucked them into his mouth one at a time, gaze riveted to her face, and the feeling of his tongue swirling made her gasp. She took her hand away and drew it down his arm to settle on his waist. Chest to chest, he slid his cock inside her, her sheath clamping around that perfect width. He pressed his mouth to hers and deepened their kiss as his rhythm gained speed and she pressed her hands to the small of his back, needing friction on her nub. She couldn’t get enough of him, could spend hours like this in his arms, their problems forgotten, nothing touching them except each other. The slowness of his thrusts brought on a delicious burn, the heat spreading to her folds and bud. Nipples taut, she fought the need to touch them and instead grazed them against his chest. She wrenched her mouth away and sucked in a long breath, releasing it with a gasp and long “Ah!” of satiation, focusing on the bliss burgeoning within her. It spiraled and her limbs grew heavier with each pleasure wave that sluiced her cunt.

“Emmett, I—”

His mouth covered hers again and his breaths left his nostrils in short, sharp bursts. He rocked faster, cock thickening, hands clamping her to him. His rhythm changed abruptly, swift, jerky movements that told of his oncoming release. She dipped a finger into the cleft at the base of his spine and he took his lips from hers to hike in a surprised breath. She smoothed her finger down until she found his pucker and circled it, moving her arm to enable better access as she stroked the soft skin between it and the base of his bollocks. He lifted his head and kissed her neck. She let her head fall back, issuing a breathy groan as he kissed her collarbone and the dip of her throat. Amelia continued to fondle, fingertips straying back to his cleft and down again. He gave a forceful thrust that abraded her nub and sent her pulse racing. He stilled for a beat then upped the pace, licking her neck and earlobe. She cried out her pleasure and slid her hand to the soft swell of his ass globe, digging in her nails and drowning in fulfillment.

“Ah, Amelia!” he whispered.

Another quick succession of thrusts had his cock pulsing and hot warmth filling her, heightening her desire. She loosed a primal shriek and bit her lip, the waves undulating through her folds until she closed her eyes and relaxed with them, let them take her to the pinnacle. He dug his fingertips into her back and sucked the skin below her ear, tongue flashing out, the wet heat an erotic accompaniment to their combined juices below. Emmett slowed, breaths ragged and hot on her skin, and she kissed his shoulder, love for him overwhelming her with its intensity.

Once still, Emmett pulled out and flopped onto his back, rolling Amelia on top of him. The air chilled her sweat-soaked skin and she pressed a long kiss to her lover’s chest and rested her cheek on his shoulder. They lay like that for a long time, breaths regulating, senses returning, their coming woes slamming back into her mind. With a sigh, she rose from the bed. Fumbling on the bedside cabinet for a box of matches, she found one and struggled to light the lamp in the darkness, almost dropping the glass shade. Finally, light chased away the shadows and she looked at Emmett, who smiled up at her, hair awry, lopsided grin in place.

“You’re beautiful,” he said.

“As are you.”

“I wish we didn’t have to… I wish this wasn’t our last day today together.”

“I know, but things aren’t how they were and we must deal with that. So, Mr. Dray, up out of that bed!” She swatted his leg and, taking the lamp, walked to the area beneath the stairs. Two barrels, one large, the other smaller, stood next to a sideboard. She placed the lamp on the sideboard, took a china bowl from inside and dipped it into the water. A cold wash would fully wake her and she searched inside the cupboard for a cloth and syringe. She washed and douched. Clean now, she tipped the dirty water into the smaller barrel and refilled the bowl for Emmett. “Come on now,” she said, turning to face the bed.

Emmett groaned and got up, padding over to her. “You’re a hard woman,” he said, smiling.

She threw the wet cloth at him and ran before he could catch hold of her arm. Instead of wearing the black dress, she wrapped herself in Helena’s cloak and sat on the bed. “How much is one of the jewels worth?” she asked, watching Emmett’s back muscles work with his arm movement as he took a clean cloth from the sideboard.

“Are you wondering if one is enough for Helena and John?” He reached for the soap and placed his hands in the bowl.

“Is it?” She worried her lip.

“More than enough.”

Relieved, she smiled. The sound of the front door slamming filtered to her and footsteps strutted into the laundry room. The swish of the carpet followed and the hatch lifted open.

“Are you decent?” Matilda called, a smile in her voice.

Amelia stood and walked to the bottom of the stairs. “I am, but Emmett isn’t.” She climbed the stairs, reaching for her dress on the hook in the linens room. “Were the women pleased at their holiday?” She clutched her dress to her chest.

Nodding, Matilda said, “No questions were asked either.”

“Oh, thank God.”

“Although I’m a little worried about one woman. Jessica. She’s, shall we say, fond of laudanum, using it to get her through the days, so to speak. Still, if she’s sensible she’ll realize to keep her mouth shut if she wants to earn enough to pay for her addiction. Now, let us work out our plans over breakfast and then you and Emmett can spend what little time you have left together.”

Amelia glanced down into the basement, the sounds of splashing water coinciding with tears springing from her eyes. “It will all work out, won’t it?” she asked, looking at Matilda.

The madam appeared grim. “It has to. It’s the only chance you have.”

* * * * *

With the plans in place, Amelia and Emmett went into the garden. Emmett led her around the side of the property into a cluster of trees and bushes that shielded them from view. They sat on a sun-dried, flat stone overlooking the ocean. Amelia stared out past two tree trunks at that huge, green-blue breadth that would soon take Emmett away from her and then take her to him.

And then he will never go away again. We’ll be together for always.

She smiled and leaned against him, head on his shoulder. He placed his arm across her back, fingers curled about her waist. No words needed, they sat for a long time watching the water ripple with soft, undulating waves. In the tall trees and hedges bordering the front garden, birds twittered. The ocean lapping the rocks at the base of the cliff sounded distant.

A noise like her dress rustling sounded and she frowned—she hadn’t moved, nor had Emmett, and the wind wasn’t strong enough to jostle the fabric. Emmett tightened his hold and she looked up at him, mouth open to spill the question she hadn’t wanted to ask.
That wasn’t my dress, was it?

He raised a finger to his lips, gaze focusing to the left on the hedges and trees. Another rustle and he tensed, head cocked, eyes narrowed. Amelia’s heart rate soared and she held her breath. Maybe Matilda was in the front garden? Maybe she’d come outside to…to what? Footsteps crunched on the gravel path and Amelia almost shot to her feet. Emmett’s hand on her arm stilled her and she sat back down.

Leaning his face close to hers, he whispered, “If we move too quickly, we may make a noise. Keep still for a moment.”

The footsteps stopped and whoever had come to call knocked on the front door. Amelia put her hand across her mouth to stifle a cry. Emmett’s grip tightened.

“Shh, wench. It may only be a customer.”

The knock rapped again, overly loud and frightening.

Emmett rose, pulling Amelia upright. With light footsteps, he led her to the back garden and pointed to the patio. “Tiptoe,” he whispered.

She complied and grabbed his hand, heart beating faster now. At the back door they paused and Emmett tilted his head to the right as the visitor knocked again. It sounded as though the side of a fist had been used, the thuds dull and impatient. Emmett opened the back door and ushered Amelia inside, closing it and turning the key slowly. Amelia stared down the passage at the front door. A tall shadow stood behind the mottled glass and leaned forward. The face of a man appeared, features skewed, nose pressed to the pane, red hair bright.

Red hair! Lock!

A creak rent the air and Matilda appeared, coming down the stairs. Again Amelia bit back a cry of alarm and indicated her fear to the madam by widening her eyes and shaking her head.