Free His Beautiful Wench by Nathalie Dae

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