Verboten

7.

Three heavy footsteps coupled with the clank of spurs resonant to your right; both you and your customer's attentions are drawn to the sound, your eyes traveling up from a pair of midnight black boots to a pair of well-tailored trousers, polished off with a black dress shirt embroidered with a swallow on either shoulder and the face of the most desirable man you've ever seen.

Several more tears spill down your cheeks at his mere existence and you stifle a cry with your palm as you watch him approach the other man before you, "perhaps we can strike a compromise."

Your gaze is drawn to his outstretched arm where a folded up bill is held between his index finger and thumb, a bill so large that it is representative of what one waitress would make with an entire week's worth of work.

The man looks at Harry and back to the cash in his hand, he glances at you and back to Harry but remains quiet. Harry pushes a bit, his voice calm and controlled, "plenty of other beautiful women. This one's mine. Take it - this will buy you five others."

The man slips the bill from Harry's fingertips and drops the room key in his open palm, eyeing you one last time before spinning on his heel and making his way back down the hallway towards the saloon.

You inhale and sniffle at the same time, taking one step towards him and wrapping your arms around his neck for a tight hug, muttering 'thank you' into his neck and fully trusting him enough to absorb the reality that he has just saved you from a traumatic fate for the evening.

He holds you and strokes his fingertips up and down your spine, petting your hair and pulling back to cup your cheeks as he takes in your relieved features. His thumbs wipe your tears away but he makes no advance to kiss you as he unlocks the door to the room and gestures for you to walk inside first.

Once you're both inside with the door locked behind you, you're smoothing your hand up and down his arm with your lip bitten into your mouth. He brushes your hands away and steps back, "you can have a night to yourself."

You follow his footsteps until his back is pressed against the closed door, your mouth hovering close to his as he drags in a breath and keeps his palms pressed against the wood behind him. You pull his hat from his head and toss it aside, wanting his hands on your skin and the reminder of his mouth on yours, "alone?"

Your eyes move away from one another's mouths to make contact as his powerful energy maintains a hearty match to yours, "I don't purchase women."

Your palms flatten on either side of his shoulders as you lean forward and press your lips to his, sighing into his mouth and holding your lips still until you feel him soften against you. He molds your mouths together and extends a hand forward to pinch your waist and draw your body towards him, moaning when your tongues meet and inhaling a sharp breath of air through his nose.

You pull back and tap the end of your nose to his, "I want this whether or not money has been exchanged."

Harry feels tortured; he knows that his fleeting impermanence will destroy you but he has also never had such a beautiful woman beseech his contact. He licks his lip then bites it, pinching his eyes closed and sighing through his nose. He peels his eyelids open and studies your corset, your bare skin, your neck and your face, remaining quiet as he deliberates before his hands dart up to grab your wrists, squeezing tightly and gathering them between your bodies, "you want this?"

Your body melts into his when you answer with your eyes on his mouth, "please."

He surges forward as he drops your arms, cupping your cheeks and sealing his mouth to yours with a salient outcry that you willingly match. Your tongues stroke and fold desperately as he walks you backwards towards the bed in the center of the room.