Chapter Seven
Joey
The look on Rachel's face makes me want to pounce on her like a wild jaguar that hasn't mated with a female in years. To see the sweet virgin gazing at me with intense hunger, her focus locked on my groin, is the hottest thing I've ever seen. Should I be doing this with her? A good man would say no. We just met today. But I've never been a particularly good man, and doing bad things is my forte.
I need to fuck Rachel.
But as I raise my head, she places a hand on my forehead to push me back down. "I will control the situation, Joey, if you please."
"Sure. Whatever you want."
Rachel hops off the bed, making her tits bounced wildly. I can't help groaning. Damn, I need to suck those little buds until she cries out. But I can't do anything. She tied me up, and I don't care. Rachel MacTaggart is so fucking beautiful, and her small yet plump lips make me want to claim that mouth and then that body. Damn, it's been too long since I had sex. Now I'm the secret boy toy of a medieval girl who treats me like I'm a curiosity. When she brushes her hands over her bodice, my dick twitches, and suddenly, I'm breathing harder.
She hunts around in a dresser drawer and brings out several ropes. Her naughty expression makes my breath hitch. But when she catches one corner of her mouth between her teeth, releasing it slowly, my dick twitches like it can't wait to be inside her. Climbing onto the bed again, she straddles my body with her hips and sets the ropes down beside her.
Then she takes hold of one rope with both hands, stretching it taut. "Would you mind if I tie you up, Joey?"
"Don't ask, Rach. Command me."
"You want that?"
"Hell yeah, baby."
She bites her lip again, considering me while running her hands up and down the rope. "After I've given you pleasure, mayhap you will do the same for me."
"You can bet on it. I'll fuck you like a maniac."
She leans forward, her breath hot against my ear. "Then let the games begin, Joey Finnegan."
"You're awfully casual about having sex with a stranger."
Rachel bites her lip, letting it slide free gradually. "I reckon I should be worried, but I...trust you not to hurt me."
I lift my head as much as I can while tied up. "Rachel, that's not---"
She seals my lips with one finger. "Shh, gràidh . Let me enjoy you."
How can I say no to that? She's the cutest sexpot I've ever met. I should turn down her offer to fuck me, but my brain shut down the second she said she wants to enjoy me. I've never had the best judgment when it comes to screwing women I barely know. But Rachel is the first girl who ever made me want to do that.
But I have to ask a question. "What does gràidh mean?"
"Darling."
She called me that? It's probably a term Scots use casually.
With deft movements, Rachel snatches up two ropes and loops them around my wrists, binding me to the headboard. The soft hemp fibers ensure I won't get chafed. Rachel's fingers trail down my arms, leaving goosebumps in their wake, and I grip the ropes harder.
"Is this too tight?" she whispers in her enchanting Scottish accent that makes me so hot for her.
"It's perfect," I growl, reflexively straining against the bonds. My cock feels like it might explode, that's how much I want her.
Rachel smirks, clearly pleased with herself. She reaches for two more ropes, this time securing my ankles to the bedposts. I'm spread-eagled before her, completely at her mercy. The vulnerability should terrify me, but instead, it only heightens my lust. Her fingers dance over my chest, teasing and exploring, dipping into my navel occasionally and generally driving me crazy. I lift my hips, desperate for her to remove my bonds and touch her, but she tuts softly.
"Patience, my gallant time traveler. Good things come to those who wait."
Rachel's nimble fingers work at the button and zipper, her movements torturously slow. When she finally peels the denim down my thighs, I blow out a relieved breath.
Her eyes widen as she takes in the sight of my fully aroused cock waving before her. She stares at it, her eyes wide and her chest heaving. A sexy blush stains her cheeks. "My, my, what a magnificent beast you are."
I can't help the cocky grin that spreads across my face. Not that I wanted to stop it. "Like what you see, my dirty-sexy Highland beauty?"
She drags her tongue across her lips, back and forth, back and forth.
I grit my teeth, fighting against the primal urge to break free of my bonds and take Rachel right here and now. But I force myself to remain still, to let her explore my body at her own pace. Her delicate fingers trail along my inner thighs, making me hiss in a breath because this feels so damn good.
Rachel wraps her hand around my erection, sliding it up and down, up and down, driving me crazy. I let out a strangled groan. Her grip is tentative at first, experimental, but grows bolder with every stroke as she glides her tongue over her lips repeatedly. I think she wants to devour me, and I wouldn't mind that at all. But I can't stop myself from straining against the ropes, desperate to touch her, to kiss her, to flip her over and bury myself inside her until we're both spent and glistening with sweat.
"Rachel," I pant. "Please, you're killing me."
She pauses, her hand stilling on my throbbing length. "Please what, Joey?"
Her simple question belies the glint in her eye that's anything but innocent.
I swallow hard, struggling to form coherent thoughts as my lust for her grows hotter and harder, shortening my breaths and speeding up my pulse. "Fuck, Rachel...I need more. I need to be inside you."
She licks her lips again---and winks at me.
Then, with agonizing slowness, Rachel lowers her head, her silky golden-brown hair tickling my thighs. Her warm breath ghosts over my sensitive skin, making me shudder. When her tongue darts out to taste me, I nearly come undone right then and there.
"Rachel," I groan, my voice hoarse with need.
She looks up at me through her lashes. "Hush now. Let me savor you, Joey."
The naughty lass lowers her mouth again, this time taking me fully between her lips. The wet heat engulfs me, and I arch off the bed, straining against my bonds. Rachel hums her approval. Shockwaves of pleasure course through my body, and when she starts to suck gently, I splutter and thrash.
"Not like that, Rach," I hiss. "Do it hard, or I'll go off before either of us wants."
Her inexperience is evident, but what she lacks in technique she makes up for in enthusiasm. Her tongue swirls around my dick as she bobs her head, sucking greedily, finding a rhythm that has my heart thudding and my ears ringing. I want to thread my fingers through her hair, to guide her movements, but the ropes hold me fast.
"God, baby," I pant. "That feels incredible."
She releases me gradually, a wicked grin on her face. "I'm pleased you're enjoying yourself. But I believe it's time we moved on to the main course, don't you agree?"
Unable to speak thanks that blowjob, all I can do is flap my head like a moron while Rachel straddles my hips. I can feel her heat hovering just above me, and I smell her cream wafting around me. The scent is tantalizing and maddening.
"Are you ready for me, Joey?"
"Shit, yes," I groan, straining against the ropes. "Fuck me hard before I have a heart attack."
Rachel smirks, clearly enjoying having me at her mercy. With agonizing slowness, she lowers herself onto me, enveloping my cock in her tight, wet heat. We both gasp at the sensation.
"Oh, Joey," she breathes, her eyes fluttering shut. "I love the way you feel inside me. Never knew it would be so....exhilarating."
She begins to move, rolling her hips in a sensual rhythm. I buck up to meet her thrusts, desperate for more friction. The bed creaks beneath us as we find our rhythm together. Rachel braces her hands on my chest, her nails digging into my skin as she rides me with increasing urgency. The liquid sucking sound of my cock sliding in and out of her, over and over, has me grunting and thrashing. The vision of her rose-dappled chest and her tits bounding in my face drives me insane.
"Ah, fuck, Rachel," I groan, straining against the ropes. "You feel so good."
She throws her head back, suddenly going rigid.
I dig my nails into the bed, clenching my jaw, transfixed by her stunned expression. The second her inner muscles clamp onto me, I use all my strength to buck up into her repeatedly until she blows her top. Rachel slaps her palms on my chest and fucks me so wildly that I can't help but thrust my hips into her movements. Not even the ropes could stop me now.
Rachel screams, her cries echoing off the stone walls and her nails raking my chest.
My cock explodes. I shout and thrash while my come jets into her womb. She increases her pace, her breasts bouncing hypnotically with each thrust. I ache to touch them, to take a rosy nipple between my teeth, but the bonds hold me fast. All I can do is watch in awe while this Highland beauty takes her pleasure from me.
As our frenzied movements slow, Rachel collapses onto my chest, her breath coming in ragged gasps. I long to wrap my arms around her, but the ropes still bind me. She nuzzles my neck, placing soft kisses along my jaw, her delicate breaths tickling my shadow beard. For a moment, we simply lie here, basking in the afterglow.
She lies on top of me, her expression dazed. "That was...wonderful. Your member is magical indeed."
I chuckle. "I'm good, but not that good. Thanks for the compliment, though, Rach. You were absolutely incredible, and that's not hyperbole."
She lifts her head, a shy smile playing on her lips. "Truly? You're not simply saying that to make me feel better?"
"Trust me, I've never experienced anything like that before. And I've had my fair share of sexual encounters."
A flicker of something, maybe jealousy, passes across her face before she irons out her expression. "Well then, I suppose I should feel quite proud of myself."
"You should, for sure."
Rachel traces lazy patterns on my chest with one finger, then flicks her fingernail over my nipple, making me gasp. "Perhaps we should untie you now, hmm?"
I grin, tugging at the ropes. "As much as I enjoyed being at your mercy, I'd love to get my hands on you."
She giggles and reaches up to loosen the knots. As soon as my hands are free, I wrap my arms around her, dragging her in for a deep, hot kiss. Rachel melts against me.
When we finally break apart, I cup her face gently. "You are the sexiest woman I've ever been with, Rach."
She smiles shyly. "I like that you've begun to call me Rach. I've never had a nickname before."
"Well, it's about damn time you got one."
"Now that you're free, what do you plan to do with me, Mr. Finnegan?"
I growl playfully, flipping us over so she's pinned beneath me. "Oh, I've got lots of ideas. And every single one is filthy."
She grins.
I'm just about to lean in and claim those lips when a loud pounding on the door makes us both freeze. Whoever that is, they seem like they want to kick the door down.
"Rachel! Are ye in there?" A man's gruff voice booms from the other side.
"Shite," Rachel hisses, her eyes wide. "It's my father!"
We scramble to disentangle ourselves, frantically searching for our discarded clothes. I've barely managed to pull on my funky looking trousers---the ones Rachel called "trews"---when the door handle starts to rattle. With her help, I just barely manage to pull on everything including my medieval boots.
But we forgot about my modern clothes. Shit . It's too late to worry about that, though.
"Rachel! Open this door right now!"
She throws me a desperate look, then her gaze darts around the room frantically. She shoves me toward a large wooden wardrobe and whispers, "Quick, hide!"
I stumble toward the wardrobe, still dizzy from our passionate encounter. As I try to cram myself inside the tight space, the aroma of musty furs and old leather engulfs me. Rachel tosses my modern clothes and boots in after me and slams the wardrobe doors shut. I hug my clothes to my chest.
"One moment, Athairich ! I am in a state of undress."
At last, the pounding ceases. Big Daddy's voice is softer now, almost apologetic. "Oh, I see. I will wait here until you have covered yourself."
Through a tiny crack, I watch her hastily pull on a chemise and smooth down her hair. Rachel then digs through a wooden chest until she finds the dress she wants and hastily pulls it on over her head. As she smooths out the dress, she takes a deep breath to compose herself before she opens the heavy chamber door.
"Father, what a surprise," she says, her voice unnaturally high. "I was...asleep."
Kieran MacTaggart stomps into the room, his imposing figure casting a long shadow across the room. Even from my hiding spot, I can feel the intensity of his anger radiating off him.
Big Daddy squints at his daughter. "Resting? That's what ye were doing, eh?"
Rachel stands her ground, chin lifted defiantly. "Aye, 'twas what I was doing. Is that a crime now, Father?"
Kieran's gaze narrows as he surveys the room. "I heard voices. Yours and a man's voice."
"You must be mistaken," Rachel says, but I can see her hands trembling slightly. "Perhaps 'twas the wind playing tricks on your ears."
Kieran grunts, clearly unconvinced. He stalks around the room, his gaze roving over every surface. My heart pounds so loudly I'm certain he'll hear it. Hiding in a wardrobe reminds me of all the times I got stealing trinkets when I was a boy, and I'd have to hide in a closet until my foster mom number whatever gave up on trying to find and punish me.
"And what of these?" Kieran snatches up my discarded T-shirt, jeans, and leather jacket from the floor. "Ne'er have I seen such garments, and I'm fair certain they dinnae belong to you."
Oh, damn . In our haste, we'd forgotten about my modern threads.
Rachel pales visibly. "Well, you see, I...found them. In the forest. I brought them back to examine them more closely."
Kieran MacTaggart isn't buying that story. I can't leave Rachel out there alone to deal with her dad.
So, I hastily pull on my medieval clothes---somehow without either Rachel or Kieran noticing it---and burst out of the closet. I drop my medieval garb on the floor. Then I dust myself off casually, as if men pop out of closets in women's bedrooms all the time. "Hey there, you must be Rachel's father. I'm Joey Finnegan."
Kieran glowers at me with a seething hatred in his eyes---and a huge sword in his hand.
I adjust my medieval coat and clear my throat. "So, Mr. MacTaggart, is it true that you're the last laird of Dùndubhan?"
"Where did ye get such an asinine idea?"
"I heard it in this castle---back in the twenty-first century, before I was chucked into the Middle Ages."
"Are ye claiming to have traveled through time?" Big Daddy growls. "Rachel might have brought ye to our home, but ahm the one who's about to make certain ye leave."
Oh, crap . Kieran's tone is not friendly. He glares at me with all the seething anger of a man who just found a stranger hiding in the bedroom of his only daughter.
Bye-bye, Joey Finnegan. You are going to die.