A/N: Meowser and I were chatting and this idea came forth. She gave a bit of help as usual and is my savior lol. Hope you all enjoy a little jimel au xx Mariah
Jim deposited the night's firewood, freshly cut, and sat down beside his brother Daniel. He gratefully accepted the canteen of whiskey and coughed a little in surprise as he took a swig. "This is fine stuff, brother! Finer than your purse typically would allow, aye?" He teased, laughing all the while.
"I nicked it from father's personal supply back home," Daniel said with a grin, eyes glinting in the red light of the fire. "Figured he wouldn't miss it. And if he does, he'll have two days to forget about it before seein' me next."
The party had split into two that afternoon. Their father had taken a number of people with him to replenish supplies at a nearby trading hub, while he and Daniel continued on with the collection of rents. They would meet up again two days hence at the crossroads.
He took another long swig before handing back the canteen. "Aye, well, you better mind your back once he does see you again, else—"
"What in God's name? Who's coming through the brush like that?"
Jim jumped to his feet at his brother's exclamation, instinctively drawing his dagger. There was the sound of a kerfuffle and suddenly a figure burst from the woods in front of them. The figure was headed right towards them and Jim instinctively reached his arms out to stop them. Probably a damn poacher.
The figure slammed right into him, having been looking over their shoulder at Ned, who was not far behind from the rustling brush. Jim held tight to his prisoner as Ned came running out and bent over, panting.
"She was giving me some trouble," the young boy gasped, trying to catch his breath. "I caught her down by the ridge. She was emptying a few of her traps when she tried to run. I chased after her for quite some time, but lost my footing and, well, careened into her, and she, ah, she fell down the bank and into the water a bit."
She?
Jim reexamined the woman fighting against his iron grip. Her hood fell and her riding cloak was revealing a shapely figure as she fought against him. Her dress, which had ripped open, revealed her shift that had gotten wet in the stream and Jim almost groaned from the sight.
Surely he hadn't been without a woman for so long that just looking at one semi-undressed made him hard as a rock. The woman had brown hair, pale skin, and brown eyes that were wildly trying to find an escape route.
"Stand still," he said, his voice a warning. "Your time will be much better if you stop struggling."
"How can I?" She cried. "The punishment for poaching is death and I can't let that happen. If I don't come home, my family won't eat."
"You obviously knew the risks so it's time to pay your dues," Jim observed her and hardened his face the best he could. "I mean it, Mistress. Stop struggling or else I will make you regret it."
She went limp, staring at him with anger. "Sometimes the risk is worth it." She muttered.
"Be that as it may, Mistress, give me one reason to not take you back to the magistrate," he said.
She stared at him, eyes luminous. She was starting to give, realizing that she was totally helpless in this situation. She hesitated, before opening her mouth. "Come closer," she said, and he did so without thinking. "Are you truly naive enough to think a woman would never try to kill you because of your handsome face?" She pulled out a hidden dagger and held it to his throat.
"No, Mistress." He gulped, trying his best to keep a straight face while his heart pounded. He knew better than to let his guard down like that, especially to a woman. He could only imagine what the men of the camp were thinking of him now. "I only believe you to treat me to the same kindness I have for you. Have I threatened your life?"
"Everyone knows the punishment for poaching is death," she replied and sheathed her dagger.
Jim soon had two men grab hold of her and search her for weapons, finding another dagger in her boot and tossing it over to him. "Awfully smart of you to hide this there" he smiled courtly. "The punishment is not death in the case of women. Your sex is often given a bit of… leniency for maternal reasons. Are you a mother?"
"No, but I care for my sister the same as I would a child." She scoffed, rolling her eyes at him as he looked her up at down. "My husband left me without any children. A drunken fool is what that man was. I hope he rots for how he treated me, and I am glad he is gone." She spat on the ground to curse him.
He nodded knowingly and stepped away. "Bring her to my tent and restrain her if she continues to fight," he told Ned and only let go of the woman once the boy had a good grip around her.
He turned away before he could let himself be tempted to show her any affection or kindness out in the open. He could feel his brother's eyes on him as well as the other men in the party, even from where they were pretending to talk amongst themselves and knew they would never keep quiet about this to his father.
Not unless he paid them off somehow.
"Give me some privacy and go find some more firewood with lads, huh?" He shouted at Daniel over his shoulder.
His brother stared at him but listened to his words, drifting into the woods and bringing the rest of the men around the camp with him. Now that there were no listening ears, Jim felt more at ease and went to his tent. He could hear a bit of struggle but had expected as much from the fight and aura the lady had given him in the few minutes he had spoken with her already.
He entered the tent to see that his men, Timothy and Gabriel were fighting the woman to lay down on her back on the bed, one her hands bound to the makeshift post. This was not what he had intended.
"Stop this mess and get out! I have this under control," Jim shouted and both men froze, giving Melinda the upper hand to kick Gabriel in the groin and elbow Timothy away from her.
He could only chuckle as they both stood rather quickly, not happy to have been shown up by a woman half restrained in front of their lord. As they made their way out of the tent, he walked over toward the bed and unbound the mystery woman's hand.
"This was not what I had intended for them to do," he whispered, holding her wrist in his palm. "You aren't hurt, are you?"
"I am fine. No thanks to you," she replied and pulled her hands away, scowling at him. "You're sure you hadn't intended for them to tie me up on your bed like a whore?"
"No, it was not and has never been my intention to rape a woman." He answered flatly, standing up and walking over to his meal and working table off in the corner.
It was a rather large tent, one that Jim was not used to, but as the highest-ranking man in the party it was befitting for his status. He poured a greedy glass of whiskey for himself before thinking of the woman on his bed. He produced a glass of wine for her as well and returned to find her standing about, staring at him.
"When was the last time you kissed a woman?" She asked daringly.
"It has been a long while, I will admit," he said, hearing her teeth chatter. He grabbed one of the blankets from his tent and wrapped it around her, grateful to put an additional barrier between them. "Why would you ever ask me such a thing?"
Jim didn't think he could have taken any longer of a glance at her shapely figure. His balls were aching and he could feel his heart thudding against his chest. Could she hear it? Surely she could, and he blushed red at the thought of what else she might have picked up on.
"Couldn't we make a deal of some sort?" She asked, averting her gaze from him. "I have a sister to take care of. The entire household will run out of food if I don't come back with something to eat. There had to be something… I can do for you?"
She began to untie the stays in the front of her dress, but he set the drinks down quickly and stopped her from going any further. She was desperate enough to sell herself to him at the drop of a hat, and it hurt his heart.
"I am a man of honor," he replied and shook his head. "I would never think of using a noblewoman for such profane—"
"I am not a noblewoman, milord," she corrected him, voice quiet and still angry with him. "I was only a cobbler's wife, but my husband left. He was a mean, old, drunk who spent all of the money. He even stole some and got caught, so he ran off. That's what brings me back home."
A common tale.
One he had heard spilled before him as a child time and time again, but it never held any shred of power to change his father's mind. He would still want this woman tied to a post and whipped. Two-hundred and fifty lashes. He could never dream of seeing her hurt like that, but could not let her know.
"A sad story," he sighed. "It doesna change the law, Mistress."
She was silent awhile, and when she spoke, her voice was soft, unsure. "What does?" She stepped closer to him, one hand holding the blanket tight around her and the other placed flat on his chest.
"It wouldna be honorable of me to take a bribe," he hissed at the contact of her hand and his eyes stayed glued to it.
"Fuck honor," she cursed, and it burned him alive with lust.
His eyes fell closed at the idea of this woman in his tent, all alone. In his bed, if he wanted. He had never been with a woman that he hadn't had to pay, and while they had been willing, it wasn't the same. He knew that deep down.
After a few moments, he reopened his eyes to see her moving toward his bed even closer to him than before. He could see her damp dress, corset, and many layers laid out over his closed trunk of belongings, which meant she wasn't wearing anything besides her shift under the furs in his bed.
Jim hesitated, but when she put her hand out to him, he began to tug his boots off, dropped his belt onto a chair, and let his coat and waistcoat follow along with his trousers. He hovered at the side of the bed for a moment, but then he quickly slid in wearing only his tunic.
There was tension as he tried to stay separated from her in the smaller sized bed, their breathing the only sound between them until he didn't hesitate this time before wrapping his arms around her and hugging her tight against him.
She gasped when he kissed her, and trembled against him, clutching his tunic in her fists while he told her everything he couldn't say with words. When they finally parted, gasping for air, he pressed his forehead to hers.
"I willna force you to do this," he chose his words carefully and shared a smile with her. "But if you wish to share my bed, I willna speak of what I saw today. I will have my brother and stablehand swear to forget it as well."
"I will share your bed, Lord James," she replied softly, bowing her head in courtesy to him.
"Aye, so you do know who I am…" He cocked an eyebrow at her and with a greedy smile.
"A lady should know her high lord," she said teasingly, a slight smile being revealed to him.
"Will you do me the honor of sharing your true name with me since you know mine?" He asked as she tangled her hands in his shirt and settled her feet between his calves.
"Melinda," she breathed out a whisper. "My name is Melinda."
Wordlessly, he took a moment to rake his eyes and down her form. He committed to memory the wanton beauty that was laid out beneath him: wild curls framing her face, dusky pink heating her cheeks, whiskey eyes pleading with him, the marks of his possessive kisses on her bruised lips. "You are so beautiful, Melinda. I canna believe you are mine, even if only for tonight."
Her voice was thick. "I do not… no one has even said such a nice thing to me before." She spoke softly to him, her hand coming to rest on his chest.
He wasn't certain if he saw a tear in her eye, or if it was simply a trick of the light. "Not even your husband?" He asked.
"Never him," she whispered, eyes cold as she thought of him and shook her head. "Everyone I have ever known was cruel to me, even my mother."
He stretched out to cover her body with his own, shielding her from cold, from prying eyes, from anything and anyone that would separate them. As he tipped her chin up with the crook of his finger, he told her, "I would tell you every day how beautiful you are, if I could."
She nodded and then he kissed her, this time gently and sweetly while dipping his hand between her legs, fingers stroking at the warm, slick folds of her. Another moan drifted out of him and he teased her for a bit, rocking against her.
Christ, he couldn't wait long, but she was rolling her hips toward his hand, pressing into his touch, soft little sighs drifting from her and it was the sweetest thing he'd ever heard. He tried to be careful with her, to be gentle as he eased himself into her. She nodded and smiled up at him, urging him on with one hand tangling in his thick hair.
"Oh, Jim," she moaned.
"Melinda," he breathed out against her skin. Yes, he thought through his haze of satisfied lust. Call my name. Call to me, sweet Melinda. Beg me to claim your body like mine.
He brought one hand up to palm gently at her breast, while his hips began to move, rocking, slowly at first. His movements were getting harder now, her body moving in time with his. It had never been like this before, not with Annalise or Lorelai or any of the woman he had in bed before this.
He loved her tenderly, smiling as her hands explored over his back and up to his sides. He couldn't stop kissing her anywhere he could reach.
"Oh, Jim…" She whimpered against him, thighs quaking around him. "Yes! Oh, yes… oh…"
Moving a little harder, he couldn't help but smile. She was writhing against him now, pulling hard at his tunic. That only drove his lust for her further ahead. Then he felt it, that glorious moment when she lost herself in the pleasure of their joined flesh.
It was over too quickly, much too quickly. He wanted to have her again and again until neither of them could walk. His seed flooded deep into her in the next moment, bringing words of praise from his open mouth. Somehow it felt like he was putting his soul inside her, not his seed. Something that he had never done before, even with a whore.
Her eyes were closed in bliss and she pulled him down for a sweet kiss. It was tender and warm, making him wish he was a selfish man. "Melinda…" He gasped and rolled them both to lay on their sides.
"Rest a bit and when you wake there will be food. I do not want you to be too sore in the morning when we ride out. I would like to guide you back to the village, unharmed."
With a nod and quiet yawn, she rolled onto her other side and curled up. He put his arms around her, holding her close and keeping her warm. He waited until she was fast asleep, her breathing deep and even before he slid from the bed and redressed himself, going back out to speak to his brother and Ned by the fire.
The canteen hit Jim's jaw squarely with a sharp THWOCK.
"Ah, fuck!" he snarled, looking wildly around and finding the culprit at once. "Damn you, Daniel, what in God's name was that for?!"
"To see if I could get yer gob to close all the way," his usually-dour brother said with a smirk, arms crossed. "A wee brown-haired lass seems to have broken your hinge this evening. Did she wet yer willy then?" Daniel saw the canteen coming and ducked, laughing as it clattered against the nearby tree. "Careful, you wee bastard—that's the good whiskey!"
"Since he dinna drink it, toss it over here!" Ned shouted from across the firepit. "Aye, Jim, I wouldna thought the lass would sell herself to ye so easily. She put up quite a fight through the woods."
"She put quite the kick to my groin too!" Gabriel guffawed. "Was she as good in bed?"
"Aye, shut up, you fools. I see the black eye the lass gave ye, Ned, and it is none of your goddamn business what happened in my tent." He muttered and stood up, walking over to the provision cart.
He grabbed a bit of meat and laid it to roast over the fire, spreading a bit of butter and spices over it. He went about to get a portion of bread, honey, and cheese, along with some wine while the meat cooked. Despite his annoyance, his brother and Ned continued to poke fun at him.
"Aye, brother, don't let some whore get ye all rilled up. We all heard her whining from the tent… I am proud my brother can make a woman sing like a pretty little harp," Daniel came up behind him, wrapping his arm around him. "Maybe I'll go take my turn with her as well and ye can listen this time."
"Watch your mouth, brother. She isna yours to take like a common whore." He shrugged him away from him and grabbed a fist full of his hair. "Do I need to grab ye by the bollocks like when we were boys? Speak of the woman again and I will run ye through."
"Yer own brother?" Daniel asked, a stern look on his face.
"My own brother," he countered and shoved him off, walking over to the fire and grabbing the cooked meat, and tossed it onto the serving plate he held. "Now piss off, will you?" He walked back over to the tent, approaching quietly and slowly so he wouldn't wake Melinda as he did.
When he opened the flap, a bit of light strewed onto Melinda's pretty face where she laid inside. When the flap closed behind him, she was reduced to an outline. Jim moved about to light an oil lamp or two and sat beside her. He set the food down as he tried to trace her frame with his fingertips - her soft buttocks tucked beneath a thin blanket, her warm stomach, her taut breasts, her cold hair, her soft lips.
He pressed his thumb to them, just hard enough so that he could feel them part and her front teeth nip at his skin. She was asleep, he knew, her breathing across his hand warm and steady as he leaned down to press a kiss to her cheek.
He took hold of the blanket and drew it further up as he slipped closer to her. He could smell her. He could smell them together on her skin; sweet and salty like the ocean. When he dragged his thumb across her closed lids, he remembered how she tasted. He remembered how she looked when he was inside her.
Her eyes fluttered open, and for a moment Jim was frozen in place. Even in the dark, her gaze was piercing - it bound him, commanded his attention.
He felt his lips go dry. He licked them and cleared his throat. "Sorry, did I wake you?" he asked, dropping his hand from her face. He turned on the pillow, allowing himself to face her completely as they laid side by side. "I didna mean to just yet."
"You did," she whispered, licking her lips as she gazed up at him. "But I don't mind, Jim." A begrudging smile was already tugging at her lips.
"Good," he laughed—God, how it delighted his soul to laugh with this woman— "Best eat then since you're awake."
"Are you sure? I don't want to overstay my welcome." She pursed her lips to hold back her mirth.
"Well, do what you must, lass," he grinned and held out the plate for her. "You won't be overstaying any welcome. There is plenty of food."
Melinda made a small sound of kind acknowledgment but looked away, suddenly shy. The silence rang between them so acutely, Jim could hear the voices from Ned and Daniel by the fire, many yards distant. She began to eat slowly before beginning to devour the food quickly as though he may have tried to take it away from her.
After staring for far too long, he got up from the featherbed and walked out of the tent. He went about the same course of actions he had before to make another plate of food, but this time didn't attempt any conversation with his brother or Ned.
They didn't either, at first. After having gotten another portion of bread, honey, and butter, he sat waiting for the meat to cook and Ned was the one with balls big enough to speak up this time.
"Ye truly think she'll stick around 'till morn?" The boy asked, lifting his flagon of whiskey up in salute before drinking a slew of it.
"I don't think that is any of your business if you want to keep your tongue, boy" he scoffed at him. "Go to bed. All of you. We have to be up at dawn."
As the meat finished cooking, he shot up and fished it from the fire. When he entered the tent, Melinda had finished eating and he set down the second plate near the bed.
"It should rest. It is too hot." He warned her.
"I can see the steam," she replied matter-of-factly, a thankful smile on her face. "Thank you for the food, and for respecting my image… even now. It was kind of you."
He nodded. "I am only sorry to see you are so hungry, lass. I canna imagine." He sighed with another shake of his head.
"I don't wish you to experience it," she said, reaching for the bread and spreading a bit of honey on it. She ate it solemnly and smiled at him. "I am grateful for the food and your kindness. It is not often found in these parts of the country."
"No, I suppose not." He replied solemnly.
"At first, I had not put it past you to bed me and still bring me to your father for poaching on your lands. Now, I see I was wrong." She said and the silence between them resumed as she continued to eat.
When Melinda finished, he took the plate and set it on the floor before joining her in bed once more. They take refuge between the furs and he was swift to lay her onto her back, capturing her mouth with his, supporting himself with his arms on either side of her as a protective barrier to all who would seek to cause her harm.
Moaning softly, he relished in the warmth her body brought to him as they clung to each other, a tangled knot of limbs. He broke away then, leaving a trail of kisses down her belly and between her warm, pale thighs. As he brought her to the edge of her release and back again, she was unable to restrain herself and tugged at his hair, silently ordering him to return to her.
She pressed her tongue into his mouth eagerly once he rose to meet her face again, the taste of her on his lips as he nestled between her legs. Suddenly, he paused and pulled back, searching her eyes for permission and with a breathy smile, she slid her hands down the small of his back to his rear and guided him inside her again.
His heart leaped, overwhelmed by the raw emotion of their joining and felt her tremble below him with what he only hoped was something similar. Slowly he built up a rhythm, taking care with each roll of his hips. The tension built quickly from deep in his belly and touched his soul with a fire of lust he had never known before for any woman.
Somewhere between moments and hours, Melinda's head fell back with a gasp as her muscles trembled with release and he pulled back at this moment, savoring the heave of her breath and the euphoria in her eyes as their gaze remained locked.
It wasn't long before he sensed his nearness and she pulled him in deeply, their lips meeting again in a hazy, warm kiss. With a soft cry and a stutter of his hips, he filled her with a warmth that flooded all the way from his fingertips to his toes.
Moments pass and they lay panting, joined still and relishing in the closeness of their bodies. A breathy chuckle, something between a laugh and a sob as he dipped down to capture her lips deeply. "I am sorry if I am crushing you," he sighed, resting his forehead gently against hers and closing his eyes.
"You aren't," she hummed, her lips pressing light kisses against his sweaty neck and chest.
He moaned at the feel of her lips, soft and warm against his cool skin in the chilled air. "If you keep doing that, Melinda… I will want to have you again."
"Who says I would want to stop you?" She teased, a grin on her lips as he leaned in to kiss her once more.