A Mate's Risk

by Cara Carnes

  “I can understand that,” she said. The coolness of the salve combined with the gentle touch of his hands seemed to dull the burning sting. “Thank you.” She pushed her dress back past her knees and smiled appreciatively at him.

  He smiled. “And that is an example of why you are so refreshing.”

  She laughed. “What do you mean?”

  Karl looked at her and brought his hands to her knees. “This is the first time a maiden has not raised her dress past her waist for me to apply salve on all her cuts, even when she had naught but scratches. Yet here you are bleeding and you hide yourself from me.”

  Her pulse raced with the contact of his hands against her knees, but it didn’t feel the same as when Djar touched her. Just thinking of his name made her wet with need. “May I ask you something without you thinking me addled?”

  Karl nodded his head.

  “What occurs at these festivities tonight? What am I supposed to do?”

  A look of concern washed over the man’s face. “Did one of the gods visit with you recently, Minda?”

  She laughed nervously. “Why would you ask such a thing? I live in the shanties.”

  The man merely nodded, but she could see the disbelief in his face. “Very well. The ceremonies have already begun, actually. In a few moments all of you maidens who are participating will line up with your mavera or other gifts and take turns offering them to the hunters of your choice.”

  Melinda’s pulse raced trying to imagine it. “It seems simple enough.”

  Karl rose and looked toward the village. “We should get back. It is about time for you to line up with the maidens. Do not concern yourself with your attire because I know most hunters will regard it with respect rather than disdain.”

  Melinda stood. “Thank you.”

  She followed him to the edge of the village and watched him head toward the other hunters. Her heart skipped a beat when she saw Djar sitting at the head of the hunter area, a wreath of flowers adorning his head.

  Pryna grabbed her arm and moved her to the far end of the line of maidens. “You are the most seasoned here so you get last choice. Many hunters will make their choice immediately and you will have naught to pick from.”

  Her heart lurched into her stomach. She looked over at Djar. “Why does that one hunter wear a wreath of flowers?”

  The woman shook her head as the girls closest to them giggled. “Truly addled. That is Djar and he is the strongest tribesman available. He killed the mightiest djunka ever for tonight’s feast and all maidens will offer for him. You are far too lacking to do so and would shame us.”

  “But I still could if I wished to, as long as he hasn’t chosen another before I get there?” she asked.

  Pryna laughed. “Yes. Your pathetic appearance is already an entertaining disgrace to the family. Perhaps it would give them all a good laugh and that will redeem me.” The old woman walked off shaking her head.

  Melinda seethed in anger, tired of the way the woman spoke down to her. The hypnotic sounds of the drums signaled the beginning of the ceremony. Baskets were placed at the feet of each hunter and the fire in the center lit.

  She watched the first two maidens giggle their way around the circle and drop a mavera into each hunter’s basket. They both paused in front of Djar and the two hunters at his side, Karl and another Melinda did not know, long enough to raise their dresses and expose their bodies fully. They turned and stood before a large circle at the other side.

  Each hunter leaned down and picked up the fruit. Some of the hunters tossed it into the fire in the center of the area, while a few chose to eat the succulent fruit. The girls smiled and strolled over to their choice of hunter and stood behind him.

  Melinda watched one girl at a time repeat this process, some of them choosing to do so after they had removed their dress. Some of the girls were even bold enough to do so without a mavera and offered their bodies instead.

  Proceedings stopped and the crowd watched as one girl sucked three of the hunters’ cocks. She couldn’t help but watch in fascination as the men plunged their cocks into her mouth so fiercely, clearly without regard for her. By the time the third man had used her mouth, the girl stumbled out of the clearing, dazed.

  Just as Pryna had predicted, all the women offered mavera of various colors to Djar. So far he had yet to taste one, choosing to toss them all into the fire. The blonde who had harassed her earlier sauntered up to Djar and removed her dress. She turned and bent over and backed up, offering her ass to him. Melinda fought the waves of jealousy crashing in on her. He couldn’t want the slut sliding her ass across his lap and the way he caressed her infuriated Melinda even more.

  Karl leaned over and whispered something to Djar who spoke with him briefly then nodded his head. Bracing his hands on the girl’s hips, he whispered something to her and she began to cry out loudly. Karl rose and pulled the girl toward a makeshift bench.

  “What is happening?” Melinda asked the girl in front of her.

  “Djar passed the right to use her as she asked to the other hunter. She was foolish to offer that part of herself to such a worthy hunter,” the woman said.

  Melinda watched the man who had treated her so tenderly forcefully restrain the screaming girl. Dipping his hand into a jar of lubricant-like substance a woman brought forward, he parted her ass cheeks and ran his fingers across her asshole. Whispering to her, he rammed into her quickly. The girl’s screams soon became moans of pleasure as the hunter continued fucking her. The entire crowd watched and some of the hunters cheered him on. When he pulled out, two tribesmen came forward and dragged her out of the way.

  By the time her turn came around, many of the hunters had women standing behind them. Melinda’s heart fell when one young blonde positioned herself behind Djar. So far, she was the only one he had chosen. Did she stand a chance? A hush fell over the crowd as she stepped forward.

  Many of the older women began to chatter, seeing her appearance. She stared at the ground at first, her hand smoothing her hair nervously. She looked around at all the curious stares of the hunters. One woman stepped forward and stood in front of her. “Was it your intent to shame these proceedings by not appearing as expected before the hunters?”

  Melinda heard the gasps of the people in the crowd and saw Karl’s and Djar’s eyes widen slightly. “I did not mean disrespect but merely ran out of time.”

  “Time? You think so little of these proceedings that you chose not to prepare adequately enough in advance?” the woman asked.

  “I’m sorry, but who are you again?” Melinda asked.

  A gasp of outrage rang through the crowd. The woman looked at Melinda curiously. “I am the head tribeswoman. Do you not know me, child?” the woman asked.

  “I’m sorry but I have been a bit out of it lately,” she admitted.

  “That is apparent. What reason do you offer for shaming the hunters with such a dreadful appearance?” the woman asked.

  Melinda shrugged. Opening up her bag she placed it on the ground to spread the contents. She cringed when the soil entered the wounds on her fingers and palms. “I did not know which was best, so I tried to get one of each color and ran out of time,” she admitted.

  Confusion and fear filled her. Why had she thought she could do this and that Djar would accept it? She knew nothing of the traditions except for what she had seen so far and felt ashamed she had upset the woman before her so. She breathed in, determined not to let the tears pooling in her eyes fall.

  Which one was she supposed to offer? It had been stupid to pick one of each because right now they all seemed the same to her. She ran her hands over all the fruit as it spilled out onto the ground around her, but she was unable to see the color differences well enough through the unshed tears.

  The woman knelt beside Melinda and whispered, “Easy, child.”

  “But I do not know which to use,” she said, the desperation reflecting in her voice.

  The woman sat beside her on the ground
and began sorting them out by color. “You picked many.”

  “I wanted to get it right. Can I not give them all?” she asked.

  The woman laughed. “No, ‘tis best to offer only one, for the hunter would have to take a bite of each. That is, if you intended them all for one.”

  Melinda nodded, refusing to look up. She could feel the hunters’ stares on her, but only cared about Djar. What was he thinking right now? “Yes, but I have nothing to offer him except this. I am from the shanties and I fear I am too common for him.”

  The woman smiled. “I was from the shanties as well and my hunter chose me above all the others. He was the fiercest protector we had and they all wished for him to be their mate, but he chose me because of what was in my heart.”

  Melinda watched the woman select one particular fruit and place it in her hand. “The sting of the thorns burns for days, particularly from those at the top ridge. I understand from Karl that you would only let him treat your wounds below the knee,” the woman said loudly.

  She felt the warmth rise to her cheeks again as she nodded. “It will be fine. It was a small price to pay.”

  “And rumor has it you made the journey alone,” the woman added. Gasps filled the air around them as people began to speak.

  “Was that not okay?” Melinda asked nervously.

  The woman nodded. “It takes a woman of tremendous courage to do so for you could have fallen ill at any moment. You knew the strength of your love would withstand the test.”

  Melinda laughed. “I did not know at the time I could die.”

  The woman smiled. “But you would have done so anyway. As I would have when I picked the fruit so many moons ago. It is beautiful up at the top of that mountain, is it not?”

  Melinda nodded. “You are the other that did it then?”

  “Yes, I am. Go and offer this to the hunter who means so much to you,” she said.

  Melinda’s pulse raced as she stood. Her legs trembled beneath her as she took the few steps to Djar’s basket and dropped the fruit into it without looking up at him. She couldn’t handle it if she saw anger or disdain in his face.

  She turned and walked toward the other girls huddled in the completion circle. When she gained the courage she looked over at Djar and watched him pick up the fruit. His fingers caressed the surface of it, his eyes staring straight into hers. Time stopped as she watched him bring it slowly to his full lips.

  Hope filled her, along with joy, when he bit into the fruit. But she knew better than think it was over as she looked at the girl standing behind him. The hunters all laughed when Djar stood and began to walk toward her. She gasped in surprise when he lifted her up and carried her toward the caves. “What are you doing?”

  “You’ll see,” he said.

  She clung to his neck, her other hand roaming freely over his bare chest. “I’m sorry, Djar. I should have never uttered confessions last time since it was the first time we…” It was a lie she couldn’t finish because it wasn’t the first time they had been together. How she wished he could remember the time they spent together on Earth, but even if he didn’t, she did and that was what mattered.

  He placed her on the same surface he had pleasured her on earlier and smiled down at her. “Oh, Minda. What am I going to do with you?”

  She grinned and wrapped her arms around his neck. “I was kind of hoping to finish what we started earlier, if that’s okay with you.”

  His mouth melded with hers in a passionate kiss meant to claim her, and she responded. The need to have him inside her increased with each passing moment. She whimpered softly when he began removing her dress and leggings, the pain coursing through her body.

  “I will kiss each wound every day and thank you for incurring them, Minda,” Djar whispered. His eyes glazed over with passion, he looked at her. “I was foolish to not see the signs before. The moment I bit into that fruit, the memories of our time together in your dimension came back to me.”

  Her heart swelled. He remembered her.

  “I love you, Djar,” she whispered as she pulled him close to her.

  “Never, ever will you put yourself at such risks for me. First with the gods, then with that trek up the hill for a mavera. Never, Melinda. I will not lose you,” he said.

  “Stop getting into trouble then,” she teased.

  He laughed softly. “Oh, I will enjoy being with you. We will return to your time, though. The gods will have to accept our decision.”

  She shook her head. “No, I know how much your people and your home meant to you.”

  Djar smiled at her and ran his hand down her arm. “You are my family now and everything I missed here I can have with you.”

  Melinda’s heart soared when he kissed her. “We have a lot of time to make up.”

  “Yes, we do. You’re going to have some explaining to do to your friends.”

  Melinda laughed, imagining how shocked they would be to see him back in her life. “I’ll tell them the truth. I looked into a mirror and wished for the man of my dreams.”

  About the Author

  Cara Carnes discovered her love of writing early in life, as most writers tend to. At the age of 11, she typed up a love story and happily mailed it off. Anxiously awaiting her acceptance letter and fat advance check, she dutifully listened to her mother and grandfather as they instilled in her the lessons key to her writing today.

  By the time the handwritten rejection letter arrived, Cara knew that someday she would be writing the stories that she loved. Most importantly, she had learned two key fundamentals from her mother and grandfather—always expect the unexpected and know you can do anything you set your mind to.

  Cara’s love for the written word found a home in erotic romance. Wanting to bring fantasies to life on the pages of her books, she enjoys crafting characters who sizzle on the pages and burn their way into your heart. While she loves all genres of romance, erotic will always have a special place in her heart because Cara believes true romance doesn’t stop at the bedroom door.

  Cara is a native Texan and currently resides in Austin. When she isn’t absorbed in her characters, she enjoys traveling, photography and spending time with family and friends.

  The author welcomes comments from readers. You can find her website and email address on her author bio page at www.ellorascave.com.

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  Also by Cara Carnes

  Cadari Lover

  Ellora’s Cavemen: Flavors of Ecstasy II anthology

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