MatingRitual

by Ruby Storm

  “What are we to do, Kella?”

  Dragging her gaze from the breadth of her captor’s shoulders as he strutted away and struggling against the tremors that roiled through her limbs, Kella met her friend’s watery eyes. “There is nothing we can do, Marte,” she whispered. She turned her gaze back and watched the big dark men disappear into a stone building, listening to quiet sobs of despair from the other bound women. “They are too strong, too many in numbers.”

  “We must plan an escape! How are we ever to find ourselves free of this place?”

  Kella’s gaze rested on Marte’s hands tied above her head and yearned to comfort the younger woman who trembled violently. “I wish for nothing more. If a chance arises, we will be gone. All we can do is wait and hope.” She said the words to comfort her friend, but Kella already understood there was only a slim possibility it could happen.

  They would be watched far too closely and no tribeswomen had ever returned from the Stonemen’s capture. All she could really hope for was a quick death for all of them.

  * * * * *

  It took all of Kella’s strength to remain standing and not hang limply as most of the imprisoned women were now doing. She cursed the men who had taken them even as her head dipped forward with weariness. Marte was silent and had been for the last hour. With the temperature dropping, Kella’s exposed skin rippled with goose bumps and her nipples stood erect.

  A door flung open somewhere and bawdy laughter echoed across the market’s center. Kella slowly lifted her eyes, blinking against her exhaustion as a crowd of men led by her captor stumbled toward them.

  She drew in a ragged breath, steeling herself against the unease that streaked through her blood. She straightened her shoulders and waited. She would remain brave to the end.

  Jaggar and the group of men halted before them. His gaze swept the length of Kella’s body then flowed over the quietly whimpering women. “I will take the one I have claimed,” he declared. “You all can fight over the others.”

  The men moved forward as one and the many whimpers turned to wails of fear and despair.

  Jaggar pulled the sheathed knife from his side and cut the taut rope above Kella’s head, leaving her wrists still bound. She stood silently, lowered her hands and rebelliously remained upright, though she swayed with exhaustion as stinging pain whipped from her shoulders to her wrists.

  Kella locked her knees, refusing to give in to the violent quaking that threatened to overtake. She pursed her lips, ignoring their dryness. She’d had nothing to eat or drink since racing from the pond. She would not give in to her fears or to this massive Stoneman before her. Try as she might, however, she could not ignore Marte’s sobs as the huge oaf called Crete claimed her as his. There was nothing she could do but watch as her friend’s legs were forced apart by a warrior’s hand. It dipped beneath the woman’s sarong while he roughly covered her lips with his to silent her frightened whimpers. Again, the strange custom of lips against lips.

  Kella’s eyes moved to meet her captor’s. “Tell him to stop!”

  Jaggar’s arched brows rose with surprise. “Tell him to stop? I think not. She is his and he can do what he desires. That is our way.”

  She met Marte’s frightened gaze to lend strength. It was all she could do as Crete’s mouth moved from Marte’s lips to nip at the terrified woman’s exposed skin of her neck. The warrior’s large hands played over the feminine angles from shoulders to thighs and back again.

  Marte sobbed out. “Please…stop! Kella, help me…he will kill me!”

  “Silence!” Crete ordered.

  Over and over the man’s tongue assaulted Marte’s mouth. Finally his lust calmed as he withdrew his hands and glanced sideways at Jaggar. “She will do fine. She is young and firm and will bear children well.”

  Kella watched in stunned silence as Marte’s tether was sliced. The woman was hauled over the warrior’s shoulder, and then they disappeared into the darkness. Bear children? No Magya woman was allowed to bear children no matter the mate unless they were a chosen one. The clanswomen always submitted to the sex, quiet and docile. It was their way. But produce a child when the Purification Rite had not been performed? Her heart sank. They would all die, either at the hands of the Stonemen or the wrath of Magya gods.

  Her attention snapped back to her own captor as he cupped her upper arm tightly and yanked her in the opposite direction.

  Chapter Three

  Jaggar kept the fingers of one hand locked around her upper arm as he shouldered open the heavy wooden door to his home. Her muscles flinched with another round of resistance and she refused to enter into the warmth.

  “I’ve had enough of your refusals,” he stated firmly as his hand snaked through the air to tangle in her hair. Kella squealed more in opposition than pain when he forced her through the entry and slammed the door behind him. Though she continued to fight him, she was alert enough to spy a crackling fire in a rock hearth as he kept her stumbling past wide-eyed servants and up a stone stairway to the second level. At the top they rounded a corner. Jaggar again shouldered a door open and forcibly guided Kella across the threshold and into his sleeping quarters. Once the door was slammed shut by a quick kick of his heel, he untangled his fingers from her hair. Kella raced to the far side of the room, rubbing her tender scalp and keeping a close eye on him.

  She crouched against the far wall, waiting to see what would happen next as the hulk of a man silently stared at her. She would not back down. He finally turned and reached up high to pull a wooden latch into place, eyeing her closely. Kella’s heart rapped inside her chest.

  A lurid smile curved his lips. “To assure you do not race from my embrace, although my servants will stand guard on the lower level the entire night. You will not be leaving. Now,” he said as she watched him bend down and untie the leather straps of his tanned footwear, “you will bathe before we begin. You are covered with blood and dirt.”

  When he stepped to the middle of the room, Kella curled tighter against the wall. Frightened now, she watched him shed his shirt, his banded muscles flexing beneath the sheen of dark skin in the fire’s flickering glow. Her captor was the largest man she’d ever encountered, yet he moved with the grace of a sleek cat. Her eyes widened when he pulled the tie from his hair and shook the substantial length of black hair until it flowed heavy past his shoulders. Her stomach clenched and she swallowed the lump in her throat when he shed his strange leggings. As he tossed them away, her wide-eyed gaze anchored to the thick cock he stroked. Before her eyes, it grew harder until it poked upward from the mass of dark curls surrounding it. The bulbous dark-purple tip shined with dampness. She knew what would happen. Mating was something done to her since she’d been a very young woman. It was her clan’s way. But his size and breadth was frightening. The imminent path to her death was about to begin.

  “I have been hard for most of the day. It will feel good to bury myself in your woman’s body.” He crossed the room and stood before a wooden tub with his hand out. Above the water, mounted candles on the wall flickered gently and cast a glow across his shoulders. “Come. I will help you bathe.”

  Kella’s eyes widened in fear. Steam whispered into the air from the heated water. He’d had this planned before even bringing her to his home. He must be a man held in highest esteem among his people. Servants to do his bidding? A home with two levels and big enough to house many families at once? How could she ever escape to join her clan again?

  “Come, woman. I will not hurt you if you obey. You are mine and I will have none of your stubbornness. Where others most likely are being forced to submit as we speak, I will be gentle with you in hopes you will accept my embrace. For it will happen, have no doubts.”

  His soothing voice confused her. It was not the same that earlier declared she would beg to have him crawl between her legs, yet she would not give in easily to allow him to grunt over her back. She was Magya and mating with a Stoneman would be horrific. Her gods would not look down fa
vorably at her.

  She raced for the door when he took a step in her direction. But there was no way out of his den. He advanced one determined step after another until he easily plucked her off her feet. Before she knew it, she hung over his shoulder. Kella kicked and swung her fists, but he quickly imprisoned her flailing legs and marched back to the strange round tub as she beat against his back. Before she could escape, he dumped her into the center. She sputtered and scraped away wet strands of hair that stuck to her face as she fought to keep her head above water. Her vision cleared to see him standing beside her with a cloth in one hand. Kella cringed when he knelt beside the tub, knowing she had pushed too far. She tensed, waiting for the back of his hand.

  “What is your name?”

  Her eyes opened. No beating? She stared sullenly and lifted her chin. Her lips pursed tightly. Kella pushed a fine line of life and death, but she no longer cared.

  He sighed. “I am Jaggar. I am an esteemed warrior of the Stonemen. I can have any woman I choose before any other man makes his decision, so I have decided you will be my mate. Now what is your name?” His hand reached out to brush his fingertips across the soft skin of her exposed shoulder. She flinched, but still he did not beat her. That simple fact amazed Kella. Instead his caress was soft and gentle. No man had ever treated her this kindly. It was like how a woman would tenderly treat a child.

  “Your name, woman. I would like to hear it now.”

  Her gaze followed the roughened fingertips as they brushed down her arm and came to stop at her wrist. Slowly he turned her palm up and traced a pattern in its center. This Jaggar was a Shaman for there could be no other reason her fear retreated.

  “Your name…” His warm breath feathered across her skin. “I will persist until you tell me.”

  She looked up into his glittering eyes. His dark gaze did not frighten her as it had before. As she stared she blinked to clear her vision, but still his eyes burned from within. Was it his wizardry? No. She finally realized the luminescent glow she studied was a reflection from the candles behind her.

  “Woman, I ask again.”

  She had no choice.

  “Kella,” she uttered softly.

  “Kella.” He smiled, his full lips creasing his face, his dark features softening even more. “Kella of the white hair. Kella of eyes the color of the sky.” He reached to touch a wet tress that curled around one covered breast. “A beautiful name. And a beautiful body to go with it.” His dark head tilted as he studied her wary expression. “I would like to see that body again. Remove your sarong.”

  Kella flailed against the water’s surface to put as much distance as possible between them. The back side of the tub cupped her body. “I will not,” she hissed while clutching at her sarong. This Shaman, this holy man could not be trusted.

  “You will,” he returned.

  Her lips pursed in refusal and she glared back at him.

  His hands snaked out and the former gentle glitter in his eyes turned ominous. With a jerk, he hauled her from the tub as water splashed over the edges and across the stone floor. Kella fought with all her might but it only took one rendering tear for Jaggar to rip the wet sarong from her body. Her scream of outrage was silenced when she hit the water once more.

  She floundered in the tub, struggling to regain her balance and again scrape the wet hair from her face. Once she swiped the water from her eyes, she looked up to see his massive legs in a wide stance, muscled arms crossed over a broad chest and a thunderous expression on his face. His cock throbbed hard where it poked from between his legs. Kella’s eyes widened in shock before she spun in the water and turned her back to him.

  His next words struck a chord of fear that trickled up her spine.

  “I could pull you from the water, yank your legs apart and mate you until morning if I wanted to.”

  Kella clutched her arms over her chest as her chin fell. Stifling a sob, she realized he was right. He could do anything to her. She was powerless against his massive size and strength. Her mind fluttered to the other women of her tribe and she wondered how they fared. There was a good chance that before morning’s light, more than one would most likely be dead.

  Kella’s eyes squeezed tightly with indecision. Her thoughts floundered in her brain, her stomach churned. She took a deep breath, and then another. Her God would hopefully see past the mating and realize she and her clanswomen had no choice but to submit. If bred, she would deal with it because come morning, Kella was suddenly determined to be among the living. She would not give up her quest to escape—no matter what.

  She heard him move behind her and tensed…waiting to see what would happen next.

  “Turn around, woman.”

  Again she gulped in air to fill her lungs and clear her head. To fulfill her vow, she would have to face him. Yes, she would be alive when the sun crested in the east. Slowly she turned in the tub, careful to keep her breasts hidden beneath the water line and shielded by her arms, although she doubted it would help her plight at all.

  He dipped a cloth into an oily substance and handed it to her. “Take this. Bathe for me. Your skin is stained with old blood.”

  A sweet scent drifted up from the cloth. It reminded her of being in the forest. It reminded her of her clan and her vow to remain among the living.

  Kella had no choice. Tentatively she took the rag from his hand and slowly scrubbed her arms and legs, ignoring how the oil burned into the deep scratches from earlier. She eyed him warily. He did not seem as threatening as of a moment earlier and she continued with her bath, her mind in a flurry and already thinking of ways to escape. Once she was done, she let the cloth float into the water and immediately covered her breasts with her arms again, straining against the edge of the tub when he bent closer and silently dipped a waterskin to fill it.

  “What are you doing?” she queried as he stood tall.

  She sputtered in surprise when with a flip of his broad wrist, a flood of water cascaded over her head. As she swiped at her face and struggled to clear her vision again, her entire body started when he began to work a small amount of the sweet-smelling oil into her long tresses. No man had ever done such a thing. It was unheard of. Over and over his strong fingers massaged her scalp, building the discord inside her head and in the pit of her belly. No one had touched her this gently since her mother. And many years had passed since the woman’s death. He urged her backward over his bent arm and gently rinsed the oil until the strands squeaked with cleanliness.

  “Now was that so bad?” he asked softly, then continued before she uttered a sound. “The feel of your hair is like nothing I’ve ever encountered. It’s soft, thick, and I cannot see the waves any longer with the wetness, but my fingers feel them. I know they will reappear once your tresses dry.

  Kella was speechless. He silently urged her to stand by cupping his large hands under her armpits. A moment later she stood in the cooling water.

  “Spread your legs. I will wash you.”

  “I… I can—”

  “You can do as I have ordered. Do not fight me, Kella. It will be a waste of time.”

  Her jaw tightened, her stance firmed with her refusal. Kella had no clue where her courage sprang from. She would never do anything but what was ordered for her by a Magya clansman. That was the way she lived and how all Magya women lived. They obeyed without question. They hoped to be a chosen one. But this Stoneman? Here she was, mesmerized by the sheer size of the man before her, one who touched her as she’d never been touched. But it was fruitless to play the game. If she did not obey, her life would end shortly.

  Lifting her chin and hugging her chest tightly, Kella widened her stance.

  Once more he worked the oil into the cloth, then reached between her thighs and gently washed her cunt, carefully spreading her nether lips to drag the soft rag through her slit.

  Heat coursed through Kella’s belly, heat like she had never experienced. The strange sensation held her captive, heated further, then sprea
d upward to her breasts as he worked the rag between her ass cheeks and thoroughly washed her. Her gaze fell to his huge cock that pulsed with a life of its own. She hated those man parts because they did nothing but inflict pain. And her captor’s? It was far bigger than any other that she’d encountered. This was how she would die. His cock would rip her body in two. She would die screaming with the pain of it as he forced it inside. Yet his magic held her in a trance and all she could do was submit.

  Jaggar pulled his hand away, added more oil to the cloth and now lathered her breasts. A waxy film soon covered them. He tossed the rag aside, his hands swirled around peaked nipples, plucking at them occasionally until they spiked harder, then back to massage the ample mounds resting in his palms.

  She struggled against the unfamiliar fire he built. She should shriek her hatred and fear, but instead nothing would have pleased her more than to have his hand washing between her thighs once again. The Stoneman created magic for sure. Kella became more powerless with each gentle caress.

  “Sit and rinse yourself.”

  Kella’s blue eyes widened when she realized he’d stepped away. Her lips parted in amazement. It was magic for sure.

  Obediently, she sank into the water and scooped the warm liquid over her skin until the waxy film of soap disappeared. Kella had discovered his touch did not bring pain, but instead mystically fanned the heated spot between her legs. And when the touch of his hand drifted from her breast, the remembered sensation left behind a warm ache that consumed her weary brain. Her breaths hitched inside her chest as she thought about the coming hours, trying to grasp at the unfamiliar emotions his touch evoked.

  She had never been treated gently—never mated with kindness. It simply was not done that way among her people. Never had she thought of mating as anything but an act of scorned submissiveness and a way to increase the Magya’s numbers, or for the warrior’s pleasure. Her tribesmen were the means that kept the women safe and alive. It was learned at a young age women were dutiful and her tribesmen could take any female they wanted at any time and mate. It was only when a female was chosen for the Purification Rite that her place was elevated within the clan and no other male had the right to point to the ground and wait for her to open her body to him.