His Beautiful Wench by Nathalie Dae

one hand and leaned on his other, thrusting into her with short, sharp jabs.
    “Mine. You’re mine.” He thrust harder. “No other man will touch you.”
    At his mercy and loving it, Amelia lifted her ass so his movements abraded her nub. Her orgasm uncoiled. Pleasure from the friction spread tingling sensations to her core. Emmett’s grunts thrilled her and she panted, releasing a strangled groan of her own.
    “Ah fuck! I’m close, wench,” he said, his voice hoarse.
    He quickened his rhythm and Amelia chased the waves of pleasure, her sole aim to reach the peak and drown in satisfaction. Sweat dripped down her temples and she gripped him with her legs, the heels of her feet pushing him closer.
    Wanton, she said, “Fuck me. Fuck your whore harder.”
    Emmett picked up his pace, grinding into her, his movements heaven on her bud. She strove to reach her peak, gasping out, “Let my hands go.” He did and she tugged up the back of his shirt, roving her hands up his back. Digging her nails into him, she raked them down his skin, knowing he loved it.
    “That’s it, whore. Do it harder. I’ll pay whatever you ask.”
    She trailed her hands back to his shoulders, digging her nails in again, dragging them over his spine. He grunted then cried out. She smelled the hay, heard the sound of it crackling as her body writhed against it. When they made love here it was so frantic that she always came hard and fast. The knowledge that the men in the saloon guessed why she had left the bar gave her pleasure a sharper edge. And this game, this deliciously naughty game had been worth every second. Her orgasm peaked and she bit her bottom lip to keep from making too much noise. Her lover’s body juddered and his seed spurted. Hot and lusciously wet, it seeped from her, its scent wafting between them. God, how she loved that smell, that beautiful odor that screamed of lust and love and them together.
    Spent, Emmett slowed then lowered his chest to hers, his kiss filled with love, adoration. Tears pricked her eyes as he moved his hands beneath her back and held her tightly, trailing his mouth from her lips to her jaw to her ear.
    “I love you, wench,” he whispered. Then, “You will wait for me, won’t you?”
    A lump expanding in her throat, she nodded, her temple brushing his. Their game had unsettled him. “Yes. God, yes, I’ll wait for you.”
    Emmett rolled onto his back, taking her with him, his cock still inside her. “Where the hell did those words come from?”
    “I don’t know. I… Didn’t you like them?”
    “I loved them, but it made me realize how easily another man could mistake you for a whore and take you away from me.”
    “Never,” she said.
    “We have so much to look forward to. Our future… It’s so bright. I can’t be without you, Amelia.”
    “Two more voyages, that’s all. Just two more. We’ll get through this, and then we can live the life we’ve always wanted. A home together. Children. Growing old side by side.” She smiled at the images her words created, the glow of their lovemaking surrounding them as though only they existed in the world. She sighed with contentment but would soon need to douche as best she could.
    She took a moment to rest with him, to compose herself before going back to the saloon. That she had to return to work irked her when all she wanted to do was spend time in his company. He clutched her to him and she snuggled closer, enjoying their time in the darkness. Would she be able to utter those words again by candlelight? How would it feel to see his face, his expressions as she spoke words she’d only ever thought?
    A clonk sounded below and several horses voiced their distress. Emmett’s body stiffened beneath her and she sat up quietly, breath held. It wouldn’t be the first time they’d been caught here, nor would it be the first time Sara had come to warn Amelia the saloon owner had dropped by. Faint light mellowed the darkness and she stared down,