Chapter Nineteen
Joey
An entire week goes by while nothing much happens. I recovered from my "injury" after two days of rest, during which Rachel insisted on staying by my side as if I were on my deathbed. But I get why she's anxious. A Scottish demon wants to...do something evil. That's all any of us knows.
At least my mafia buddies can't find me here in the past.
I'm trying not to let the tension get to me, but it's like waiting for a bomb to go off. Every creaking branch makes me jump, and I swear the shadows are moving when I'm not looking. Rachel's not much better, pacing back and forth like a caged tiger, constantly scanning for threats.
Today, we're walking round and round inside the castle walls. For safety's sake, nobody goes outside the fortress alone, and we only go out there unless there's a damn good reason for doing so.
As we round a corner, Rachel grabs my arm. "Joey, did ye hear that?"
I halt, swiveling my head as I strain to listen for the slightest sound. Then I relax. "No, there's nothing."
She frowns, shaking her head. "I could've sworn I heard...never mind. The fog is getting to me, I reckon."
At least I'm not the only one who's spooked.
We continue our stroll around the courtyard, but I can't shake the feeling that we're being watched. Maybe it's the tall keep or the gatehouse or...nothing at all that's set me on edge. The air feels oddly thick. The utter silence, broken only by the barely audible sound of our footfalls, makes the hairs on the back of my neck rise and stiffen. The pea-soup fog unnerves me, but I don't think that's the main cause of my anxiety. I might not have Lachina's second sight, but even I can tell something's off. It's like the whole castle is holding its breath, waiting for something to happen. Ever since my bout with dark magics that nearly killed me, I've become hyperaware of pretty much everything weird that crops up.
A deafening crack of thunder splits the air and seems to shake the very foundations of Dùndubhan. Rachel and I stumble, grabbing onto each other for support as the castle walls themselves tremble.
She grips my arm. "That's no ordinary storm."
"Yeah, I know." I pull her closer. "Stay close to me. Don't want to lose you in this preternatural fog."
"Aye. Mayhap we should go inside."
Before I can respond to her suggestion, an unearthly howl pierces the air, infecting me with a chill that raises goosebumps on my skin. The torches lining the hallway flicker and die, plunging us into darkness.
I fumble for Rachel's hand as we start running, our footsteps echoing off the stone walls. The air grows colder with every step as an unnatural chill seeps into my bones. Rachel's hand tightens around mine as we race into the house and through the darkened corridors. I can still smell the lanterns that had been burning everywhere, but they've all snuffed out now.
"The great hall," Rachel pants. "We need to get to the others."
Another bone-rattling boom shakes the castle. I swear I hear wood cracking and stones falling. Nobody could've broken down the gates, could they? The wind howls through the halls, carrying with it the acrid scent of smoke and something else---something rotten and decayed.
We burst into the great hall to find chaos. Kieran stands at the center, shouting orders as Alyssa and the aunts rush here and there, arming themselves with swords, bows, knives, and---bizarrely---modern guns. The aunts have linked hands as they chant in a language I don't understand, a faint blue glow emanating from within their circle.
A husky voice laughs. "Ye cannot escape me, Joseph Finnegan. I'm coming for yer lass, and ye cannae stop me. I shall ravage her and take her maidenhead. She will become my bride."
The laughter turns maniacal, and suddenly, I know who spoke to me. It's An Bodach .
I spring upright, abruptly awakened from my nightmare. Cold sweat trickles down my skin as I gasp for air, my pulse racing. Rachel stirs beside me, her eyes fluttering open. We've been sharing the same bed lately, but I haven't made love to her since our encounter at the waterfall. Why didn't An Bodach know that? He's supposed to be a badass at magical shit. I've wondered about that ever since.
"Joey? What's wrong?" she asks, her voice a touch slurred from sleepiness. After volunteering to help Efrica make breakfast for everyone, Rachel and I had both been ready for a mid-morning nap.
I rub my eyes, trying to clear the lingering tendrils of the nightmare. "Just a bad dream, baby. Go back to sleep."
But the words feel hollow even to my own ears.
Rachel sits up, her hair a tousled mess. She reaches out to touch my arm, and I flinch involuntarily. "It was him, wasn't it? An Bodach ."
I swallow hard, unable to meet her gaze. "The Old Man said he was coming for you. He must have sent the beithir to frighten us."
"Let him try," she says fiercely. "We're ready for the old man."
But are we? The question hangs unspoken between us as a wicked gale rattles the windowpanes. Rachel and I exchange a wary glance, both of us on edge.
"Maybe we should check on the others," I suggest, already swinging my legs out of bed.
"Nay, if anything were amiss, we would know by now." Her cheeks dimple. "Because we would have five women and my father kicking the door down."
"Good point." I swing my legs back onto the bed and roll onto my side, draping an arm over Rachel's naked body. "Since we're already awake..."
She springs into a sitting position and grins, her tits flapping. "Ye want to enjoy carnal relations again?"
Her excitement is adorable and sexy. So yeah, it turns me on big time.
I gently urge Rachel to lie down again, then roll on top of her, careful not to crush her beneath me. "Rach, I've been having dirty dreams about you every night, and they always get me hard. But I wasn't sure if you wanted to get it on again."
"Oh, aye, Joey, I want ye now." She wriggles her hips just enough to make me hiss in a breath. "Make love to me, please."
"Don't need to ask me twice."
I kiss her deeply, savoring the softness of her lips and the warmth of her body beneath mine. Rachel responds eagerly, her hands roaming over my back, pulling me closer. The lingering fear from my nightmare begins to fade, replaced by a growing heat that spreads through my body. Our kisses grow more passionate, more heated, as I trail my lips down her neck, relishing the soft sighs that escape her. My hand finds her breast, thumb brushing over her nipple as it hardens under my touch. Rachel arches into me, her fingers tangling in my hair.
The scent of her cream is driving me mad.
"Och, Joey," she breathes, her voice husky with desire. "I need ye inside me, buried as deep as possible. By God's bones, please fuck me like a demon and make me scream. No one will hear us. Our chambers are on the highest floor of the castle."
I position myself between her thighs, pausing to gaze into her eyes. The trust and love I see there nearly overwhelms me. Slowly, I push inside her, both of us gasping at the sensation. Rachel wraps her legs around my waist, pulling me deeper. I groan at the exquisite feeling of being buried inside her with her juices dribbling down my cock. For a moment, we're perfectly still, savoring our connection.
Then I start to move, slowly at first, building a steady rhythm. Rachel meets me thrust for thrust, her nails digging into my back. The room fills with the sound of our ragged breathing and soft moans.
"Harder," Rachel gasps. "Please, Joey."
I oblige, picking up the pace. The bed creaks beneath us as I drive into her with increasing force. Rachel throws her head back, her spine arching, her eyes closed in ecstasy. I trail kisses along her exposed throat, tasting the salt of her skin while the scent of her lust envelops me.
"Oh God, Joey!" she cries out. "Don't stop! I love your acainn cungaidh !"
"My what?!"
"Your cock."
I can feel her tightening around me, close to the edge. My own release is building, a white-hot pressure coiling in my core as I growl and grunt. Rachel rakes her nails down my back, her breath coming in short, desperate gasps. She can't even speak now, so close to exploding that her cheeks have turned a lovely shade of rosy pink, and she can barely breathe.
"Let go, Rach, I've got you."
With a cry that echoes off the stone walls, Rachel comes undone beneath me. Her body arches, trembling with the force of her release. The sight of her, lost in ecstasy, pushes me over the edge. I bury myself deep inside her as my own orgasm crashes over me, wave after intense wave of pleasure coursing through my body.
We collapse together, a tangle of sweaty limbs and ragged breaths. I roll to the side, pulling Rachel with me so she's nestled against my chest. For a long moment, we just lie here, basking in the afterglow and listening to each other's heartbeats slowly return to normal.
I'm still catching my breath when she hits me with a bombshell.
Rachel climbs on top of me, straddling my hips. "Let's do that again---at least three more times."
"Three?" I almost choke on the syllable. "I'm mere mortal, you know, not a Greek god. My dick needs time to recover."
She slants closer, her hands at either side of my head, with those luscious tits dangling right above me. "I could whip up a potion that will keep you hard all night long."
"Do we really want to resort to magic just so you can use my body for your own pleasure?"
She clasps my flaccid penis. "Are ye saying ye dinnae want me again?"
Of course I do. She knows that, and she's using my desire for her to get what she wants---me, inside her. Yeah, I want that too. I defy any man to turn down Rachel MacTaggart.
She begins to massage my dick.
A sharp grunt bursts out of me. "Fuck, yes, you know I want you every minute of every day."
"Are you saying..."
"Yeah, Rachel, hit me with any magics you want."
She grins and giggles. "Ye willnae regret it, Joey."
Rachel leaps off the bed with surprising agility, her naked form illuminated by the moonlight streaming through the window. She rummages through a small chest near the hearth, pulling out various bottles and pouches.
"What exactly are you concocting over there?" I ask, propping myself up on my elbows to watch her work.
She throws me a mischievous grin over her shoulder. "Just a wee something to keep ye going all night long, mo leannan , just as I promised."
I experience a mixture of excitement and stone-cold fear as she mixes ingredients in a small wooden bowl. The room fills with an earthy, spicy scent that makes my nostrils flare.
"Are you sure this is safe?" I ask, eyeing the mixture warily as she approaches the bed.
Rachel rolls her eyes. "Och, ye modern men and yer worries. Trust me, Joey. I've been studying these potions since I was a wee lass. This one's as safe as mother's milk."
"If you say so." I cast a wary glance at the murky concoction. "But if I end up with some kind of magical STD, I'm blaming you."
"STD?"
"That means sexually transmitted disease. We have those in the twenty-first century, so I'm guessing you've got them here too."
"Only if they caith inside a whore who hasn't washed herself in...ever."
"I see. What does caith mean?"
She smiles in a devilish way. "It's when a lad spills his seed inside a woman's body."
"Oh. I get it." My gaze flicks to the cup she's still holding out to me, and I wince. "What if this stuff makes my dick shrivel up?"
She laughs, a musical sound that never fails to make my heart skip. "Just drink it, ye silly gealtair ."
"What did you just call me? A silly gelding?"
"No, Joey, you are not a eunuch. A gealtair is a coward. So, drink."
Taking a deep breath, I down the potion in one gulp. It tastes like cinnamon and something earthy I can't quite place. For a moment, nothing happens. Then a warm tingling spreads through my body, pooling in my groin. To my amazement, I feel myself hardening again as lust courses through me with renewed vigor.
She smirks. "See? I told ye it would work."
"Rach, I need you. Now."
She climbs back onto the bed. But this time, she lies on her back waiting for me to take control. "We have all night, remember?"
I don't need to be told twice. With a growl, I pounce on Rachel, claiming her lips in a ravenous kiss. The potion has set my blood on fire, every nerve ending hypersensitive to her touch. I trail kisses down her neck, nipping and sucking at the soft skin, relishing the little gasps and moans she makes.
"Joey," she breathes, arching into me. "Please, I need ye inside me."
I position myself between her legs, teasing her entrance with the tip of my cock. She's already wet and ready for me, her eyes dark with desire. In one smooth thrust, I bury myself to the hilt, both of us groaning at the sensation.
"Ye feel so good," Rachel pants, her nails digging into my shoulders. "Move, Joey. Take me hard."
"Yes, ma'am. You command, I serve."