Journey with Joe (Middlemarch Capture Book 5) Page 10

  Mungo’s mouth grew slack as he whispered his enticing words.

  “Your lips give away your femininity.” He chuckled and shook his head. “How did I mistake you as a man?”

  “The trews and tunic give me more freedom. It’s difficult to roam the countryside in a dress.”

  “I imagine it is,” Joe said.

  “My father ordered the maids to burn my trews and tunics.”

  “He did?”

  “I was away with my coos when he gave the order and saved this one pair. He forbade me to purchase more.”

  “We’ll get you more clothes once we reach my home,” he promised. “Now, where was I? Your mouth.” He traced her lips with his tongue and then kissed her. It was slow and sweet and left her heart racing. “Your neck is slender…”

  His fingers stroked her neck. Back and forth. Back and forth. The fleshy pad at the base seemed to fascinate him. He dipped his head and delicately nibbled there before a shudder jerked his body. He sighed and moved onward with his explorations. His big hands coasted down her arms, the pressure enough for her to notice yet not causing pain.

  “Your arms are muscled and strong from working outdoors, yet feminine and sleek. Your backside is high and rounded and it makes me want to nibble.” He turned her a fraction and nipped at one buttock before she communicated her shock and surprise.

  Did men and women do that to each other? Who kenned?

  “Now your breasts.”

  Mungo held her breath, eager to learn more. “I dinnae ken ye were observing me so closely.”

  “You intrigue me,” he said.

  “Oh.”

  “Some men might think your breasts too small, but to me they—you—are a delight. They fill my palms.” He demonstrated by cupping her breasts. “And I’m very eager to taste your nipples. The color reminds me of apricots.” Joe lowered his head and sucked one nipple into his mouth.

  The jolt of pleasure had her flinching, the echoes of her enjoyment seeping downward to gather in the secret place between her legs. Joe drew on her nipple while he pinched and plucked the other with his fingers. The twin sensations joined and once again, migrated downward.

  Joe kissed her, and she sighed against his lips while his fingers continued to toy with one nipple.

  “Should I continue?”

  “Aye.” She never hesitated.

  “I was hoping you’d say that.” He moved his lips down her body, kissing the fullness of her breasts and sucking on the nipple he’d pinched and tugged earlier. Her nipples became sensitive and hard yet she wouldnae stop him. He trailed his fingers down her rib cage and blew warm air against her belly button. She fidgeted, sensing there was much more.

  “Patience, sweetheart.” Joe gripped her hips with his big hands. “Spread your legs, so I can fit between.”

  She hesitated.

  “I can stop.” His rough words were reassuring and bolstered her courage.

  Mungo splayed her legs, and a shiver worked through her as the cooler blacklight air caressed her swollen flesh.

  “Perfect,” he said, his approval filling her with elation and pride.

  Her pulse raced as she waited for his next move.

  “Beautiful.” He combed his fingers through her pubic hair, then parted her flesh and stroked with another of his gentle caresses. Her secret place had become damp, and the moisture allowed him to stroke her, the friction delectable. His fingers pressed against a sensitive spot that made her stiffen, made her gasp.

  He chuckled. “Now that I’ve established our species are compatible, I’ll get to the pleasant stuff.”

  Old hag’s toes! Not compatible? She’d never considered the fact. All she kenned was he drew her with his bossy tendencies, his caring for those weaker than him. His fairness. His honor. Aye. Joe Mitchell had more integrity in his little finger than all her brothers combined. “What do ye mean not compatible? Does that happen?”

  “The physiology of some species means they cannot mate with others. We have discovered this through our work at the resort.”

  “Oh.” It was all she could think to say. “Are ye sure we will work together?”

  “Yes.” Satisfaction and a trace of humor coated his tone.

  Before she could ask more questions, Joe distracted her with his featherlight touches. Every now and then, he skimmed across a sensitive spot that had her pulse rate leaping and her breath catching. He leaned over and kissed her, the continued stroke of his fingers moving in time with the thrust of his tongue in and out of her mouth. Mungo shivered, every part of her body seeming to float while the pressure and pleasure shimmering from the achy spot between her legs grew and expanded.

  Mungo gasped for breath the sensations growing bigger and stronger until they bordered between pleasure and pain. She dinnae ken whether to demand Joe stop or urge him to continue.

  Joe tore his lips from hers and moved back down her body. To her shock—he replaced his fingers with his mouth and tongue. He teased her flesh, driving her higher and faster until she feared she might explode with the force of the sensations. Then, without warning, she detonated, the pressure splitting apart and pleasure surging down her legs and along her arms. The spot pulsed and languorous waves chased the first explosion of something so bright and fierce she couldnae fathom how to describe the feelings.

  Throughout, Joe licked the pulsing spot until she became too sensitive for more. She tried to move, and Joe lifted his head, looking askance at her.

  “I-I cannae explain how agreeable that was but then it started to hurt.”

  “You’re sensitive. I’ll remember that for the future. Are you ready for more?”

  His eyes glowed even more brightly, claiming her stare.

  “Mungo? I asked you if you want to continue?”

  “Aye.”

  “I’m so glad that is your answer.” He gripped his tadger in his right hand and stroked it, seemingly uncaring she was observing the private moment.

  He leaned over her again, and his captivating smile rivaled the gleam of the night star. His gaze smoldered, and she imagined they were even brighter than usual. He nipped at her bottom lip and she experienced a tug deep in her belly. The muscles of her inner thighs quivered as she waited for the more that Joe promised.

  Then he covered her body with his, yet held his weight on his arms. He guided his tadger between her legs and pushed until it glided inside her. She twisted and squirmed at the weird stretching sensation. He pulled back and pushed deeper inside her. Mungo bit her lip at the discomfort, the surge of pain.

  “Nay. Nay, I dinnae believe we’re compatible. Ye’re going to break me.”

  Joe stilled at her protest, but he laughed softly and brushed the tangle of hair off her cheeks. “We are compatible, sweetheart. I promise you this. Sex is always uncomfortable for the female the first time.”

  Mungo swallowed. “This pain will cease?”

  “Yes.”

  “How can ye be sure?”

  “Do you trust me to show you?” He kissed the cheek while she considered her answer.

  So far he’d gifted her with pleasure. She trusted him not to hurt her more than necessary. And he’d come for her. Everything in her softened at these facts.

  “Please show me.”

  Joe nodded and bent to kiss her again. She savored the press of his lips against hers, the tangle and stroke of their tongues. He broke off the kiss and licked the shell of her ear—a weird yet strangely pleasurable habit. The rough beard on his face scraped her cheek as she kissed him back. His chin. His neck. Curiosity led her to massage the spot of skin on his lower neck, and his entire body shuddered. His breath whispered across her lips, an instant before he claimed her mouth again. His kiss turned from sweet to demanding as he increased the assault on her lips.

  He withdrew a fraction until his tadger almost pulled free, then he surged inside her, pushing inexorably deeper. The pressure increased, the flash of pain and the entire time, he kissed her, catching her cry with his mo
uth. Joe retreated and thrust again. She tensed but he slid in smoothly until he could go no further.

  A sense of fullness assailed her, yet the pain subsided.

  “You’re wet and tight,” he said, his words like an explanation to her befuddled mind. “And we fit perfectly.”

  She clutched his shoulders, crying out when he hit the right spot. He grinned down at her and repeated the stroke. She reached up, wanting to get as close as possible to him. This cat-man with his honor gave her a sense of worth.

  “That’s it, sweetheart. Hold tight to my shoulders.” His big body grew tense. “That’s perfect. I need to go faster.”

  He increased the pace of his strokes, and she grasped his biceps. The curl of pleasure inside her grew bigger and more overwhelming until she sobbed with the intensity. Then, she was flying, the blissful soar of enjoyment that suffused her with warmth and belonging. As she came down, she was aware of Joe’s arms wrapped around her. He rolled until their bodies parted and she lay on top of his muscular torso.

  “How are you, sweetheart?”

  Mungo yawned, and he laughed.

  “That’s perfect for my ego. I’ve put you asleep.”

  “I dinnae ken why the lassies whispered about the menfolk and enjoyed lying with them. The men reek, ye ken.”

  Joe laughed, his broad chest shifting beneath her body. “I take it I passed the sniff test.”

  “Aye.” She yawned again.

  “You’re tired. Sleep. We have a big day tomorrow.”

  She relaxed and breathed in Joe. She’d come to like him, his people. Mayhap she’d go with them willingly and no longer try to escape. It wasn’t as if her father cared for her wellbeing. Joe spoke highly of his clan women. He and the other cat-men respected them and treated the women as equal partners.

  Aye, she’d go to this place where women could wear trews and do jobs outside the keep. At least that way she’d stay with her coos.

  9 – Hot On The Scent

  “Laird, yer lass left a clear trail,” Aengus’s best tracker said. “’Twill be easy enough to follow.”

  “How far ahead is she?” Aengus Caimbeulach dinnae ken why the lass had left the keep. Reilynn believed she’d intended to retrieve her coos. Mayhap his wife was right. Mungo was a stubborn lass although he ignored her because each glimpse of his daughter ripped away the scabs of his loss. She was the image of his beloved Feeona with her wild red hair and determination.

  “Mayhap one cycle,” the skinny, bearded tracker said. “The coo’s tracks are fresh. I see footprints.” He frowned. “I discovered prints for a big animal I’ve ne’er seen afore.”

  “Adair said they had a big black cat with them,” Raibert, his oldest son said. “That, I’d enjoy seeing.”

  Aengus nodded. “Lead the way. We’ll push through the blacklight.”

  If the lass wished to retrieve her coos, she’d do it. They could help and gain additional coos to add to their new herd. He nodded. Aye. Hew Grantlach had agreed to the betrothal and given them coin besides. Uniting with the other clan meant more fighting men at their disposal, and the coos as a bonus to sweeten the deal showed willingness and faithful intent on his part.

  But even better, he’d be rid of the lass and the painful prod, prod, prod of his memories. The living reminder of all he’d lost when his beloved Feeona had died.

  * * * * *

  Joe shook Mungo awake at first light. They had a way to walk to the land bridge.

  “Ow!”

  He crouched beside his mate, her arms, legs, and torso now bearing bruises along with the cuts and scrapes. He shouldn’t have made love to her last night, but he couldn’t help himself. Hell, his feline had pushed him to mark her. Luckily, he’d been strong enough to resist. “Are you sore, sweetheart?”

  “Aye.”

  Joe hid his smile.

  His mate.

  She was so much more than he’d imagined.

  “Ma always tells us to move if we’re stiff or battered. The movement helps to keep the limbs supple. You can ride Harriet if you want.”

  Mungo pushed up with a groan. She screwed up her face when she recalled her nudity and crossed her arms over her chest.

  “Your clothes are here.” He handed her the neatly folded garments, charmed by the shyness that contradicted her stubborn determination. “I’ll get Harriet ready.”

  “Do we have any food?”

  “Not until we catch up with Sam and Duncan. They might have left us something, but I doubt they’d have thought of it, given the hurry to reach the land bridge.”

  She scowled at the mention. “Are ye sure my coos are safe?”

  Our coos. “Yes, you’ll see.”

  By the time Joe had Harriet ready, Mungo had dressed. He led Harriet to where she stood. Mungo’s gaze flickered down his body, resting on his cock for an instant before jerking away her gaze. A faint tide of red collected in her cheeks.

  “Are ye traveling naked?”

  He laughed at her disapproval. “I’ll shift in a minute. Let me give you a leg up first.”

  “Nay, I’ll walk for a bit.”

  “We need to travel fast,” Joe warned.

  “Aye.”

  He nodded. “Let’s go then. Once we get to the island, there is a swimming place with hot water. That will soothe your sore muscles.”

  Her red brows rose. “Hot water? Nay, ye jest.”

  “I’ll prove it to you.” Joe handed her Harriet’s reins, stood back and shifted.

  “That sounds disgusting. It must hurt ye.”

  Joe stalked up to her and rubbed his head against her hand. He drew her decadent scent deep into his lungs, far more content than he’d been since they’d left Earth.

  His mate. He didn’t think he’d ever tire of the fact.

  He nudged her into motion and once she led Harriet along the track toward the stream, he trotted after them.

  The journey to the beach took longer than he’d thought. In his panic for Mungo, he’d run faster and farther than he’d recalled.

  The sun bore down on them, hotter than the previous days, and Mungo struggled with the heat. Finally, she mounted Harriet and Joe upped the pace even more. He hadn’t told Mungo since mentioning the land bridge brought a scoff of disbelief, but Kelvin had told him if their timing was off they’d end up swimming. It was imperative they reached the crossing before the moons shifted in their orbit.

  Finally, they approached the rocky shoreline, and Joe breathed easier. Only ten minutes walk to the land crossing. They’d make it if they continued this pace.

  A foreign sound drew his notice. He froze, the hair prickling at his neck.

  Seconds later, yells and shouts rent the air. A dozen Scothage men raced down the cliff. Some carried hefty clubs while others brandished bows nocked with arrows. Their leather kilts flapped around their legs.

  Crap.

  They’d come for Mungo.

  10 – Caimbeulach Battle Cry

  The familiar Caimbeulach battle cry had Mungo halting Harriet. She gaped as men from her clan poured over the cliff edge in a berserker battle charge. Heedless of their safety, a dozen men raced toward her and Joe, weapons at the ready.

  Experienced, battle-hardened soldiers.

  Her brother Raibert.

  Her brother Cinead.

  Her father.

  They’d come for her.

  Mungo blinked, convinced she was seeing things.

  Joe snarled while Harriet shied and high-stepped, eyes rolling at the masculine hollers. Mungo reined her in and patted the steed’s shoulder in a comforting manner.

  “Where are the coos?” her father demanded.

  Some of her joy dissipated as her father’s gaze drifted over her right shoulder.

  Joe prowled closer and placed himself between Harriet and her father. He snarled and immediately several of the men carrying bows aimed at Joe.

  “Nay,” she snapped. “Dinnae hurt him. He’s protecting me.”

  Joe stepped clos
er to Harriet’s left side and waited.

  “The coos?” her father repeated.

  “They’ve gone.”

  Impatience flared in her father’s expression. “Where?”

  “They took them over to the island.”

  “Ye lie,” Raibert snapped. “’Tis impossible.”

  Mungo dinnae argue the point since she dinnae understand the land bridge herself. She met Raibert’s accusing glare with one of her own.

  “Nay matter.” Her father’s beefy shoulders lifted in a shrug. “’Tis ye we came for.”

  Shock rocketed through Mungo. Her mouth dropped open in a manner that would’ve had Reilynn scolding her, had she seen. “Me?”

  “Aye,” her father said.

  He still refrained from meeting her direct gaze, but jubilation flared anew within her. Father had come for her with a party of warriors. He truly cared.

  “Who did ye steal the steed from?” her oldest brother asked.

  “Two men tried to attack me.” Mungo was unable to rip her gaze from her father. He cared for her. Reilynn had been right when she’d told Mungo her father hid his emotions. It was his way.

  Raibert scoffed and shot her a glance of disbelief. “Ye lie.”

  Joe growled, and Raibert backed up half a step.

  “Come,” her father ordered. “We march to the Grantlach Castle.”

  “What? Why?” Mungo asked. “That is the opposite way to our keep.”

  “We go to meet yer betrothed.” Her father pinched the bridge of his nose. “Come, I wish to have this matter settled.”

  “What?” Her father’s announcement stunned Mungo so much she forgot her normal careful approach.

  Her father scowled, his tight mouth and displeasure clear despite his bushy black beard. “Dinnae question me. I am yer laird. Ye will do as I decree. Get off the steed. Raibert or Cinead will ride it.”

  “Nay, ’tis mine,” Mungo protested, her mind still reeling at her father’s decree. A betrothal. Nay!

  Her father intended to banish her to the Grantlach clan. If she kenned her father, he’d gain riches from the transaction while she’d receive a husband. An older man. While the Grantlach had treated her with kindness during his visit a few rotations ago, he’d seemed distant and humorless. And then there were the rumors about his second wife and her disappearance. One cycle she was at the Grantlach castle, and the next she had disappeared. No one had seen her since. Fear crawled down Mungo’s back. She stared at her father, confusion, and pain pressing against her chest.