MatingRitual (2 page)

Her eyes fluttered shut as her stomach churned. A renewed
shudder rippled down her spine. Only the gods knew what trials those female
captives endured before dying.

Her head shook slowly as she cupped her face. This
particular day had started with such anticipation and joy. It was set aside for
her and nine others, starting first with a Purification Rite. That was the
reason the women were at the pond earlier. They’d cleansed themselves in the
morning light with clear spring water melted from the mountain snows. And
they’d done it to become fully mated Magya women at a future ceremony, an honor
not held for all women of their clan. Only ten special women were selected and
she’d been among them. It was an honor all females hoped for their entire
lives, to be chosen by a male clan member, to bear many offspring and know that
she and her young would always be protected not only by her one mated warrior,
but by the tribe as a whole. If she hadn’t been chosen, yes, she would have
found another road to survival on the clan’s fringes. Even that life with the
outcast women was better than being a captured slave of the Stonemen.

Kella refused to let that fate be hers. She would wait until
the bright sun moved completely across the sky, and then leave the cavern just
before nightfall and the return of the den’s four-legged owner. She prayed the
Stonemen had not discovered her village. She and her clan had been safe through
three seasons of the moon, remaining undiscovered. Kella needed to find her way
back to her home to warn them all, to save as many lives as she could. To save
her own life.

A crack of a twig preceded a familiar rumbling growl that
instilled a singular thread of terror in her heart. Kella’s chin snapped upward
and her compact body tensed for only a split second as another growl reached
her ears. Scrambling to her knees, she feverishly searched the damp ground to
find anything to use as a weapon to ward off what would surely be an impending
attack by a fanged cat. When her fingers scraped against a club-like object,
she clasped it quickly and raised it before her.

Kella blinked away frightened tears, her eyes straining
toward the small opening, her heart pounding chaotically. The jagged rib bone
of some long-ago dead animal would most likely be useless against the hungry
beast. She had no other choice but to clutch it tightly in defense and hold her
ground. To crawl deeper into the den would mean entrapment and certain death.

Her breath hitched in her throat when a furred paw came into
view. Dagger-like claws sprang outward, marking a trail through the bits of
stone and decaying bones before a huge, whiskered snout with gleaming fangs
poked into the entrance of the cave. Kella had no doubt the cat breathed in the
scent of its next kill.

A paw swiped inward once more. Kella screamed when sharp
claws grazed her knee, and she brought down the jagged edge of the bone with
all her might.

Jaggar’s square jaw lifted, his nostrils flaring to sniff
the air. Another scent, an odor that carried imminent death, mingled with the
muskiness of the woman he hunted. His bulging arm flexed tight and he drew his
spear higher and tightened his fist around the heavy wooden staff. His steps
lengthened as he moved effortlessly through the tangled underbrush. He had no
doubt he could slay any predator he would meet and accomplish it easily. It was
the woman who concerned him. His powerful body and adept warrior skills would
be of no use if he could not reach her in time. Jaggar refused to lose this
battle. With each step he took as he followed her trail, desire gnawed at his
gut. He wanted the woman and nothing would stop him.

The rank smell of the long-toothed cat grew stronger with
each breath as Jaggar lunged headlong into a small clearing. His gaze darted
between the ferocious tiger and an opening in the earth.

She was there. He was certain.

And the feral animal knew it too. Already the beast marked
his territory as he stalked his prey, scratching at the mossy earth with a
growl rumbling deep inside its throat. Heavy feline muscles rippled ominously
beneath the thick coat of stripes when the animal hunkered down to swipe a paw
into the small entrance.

A feminine scream pierced the air only seconds before the
big cat hissed in pain. Jaggar skidded to a halt and flexed his muscled arm.
With all his brute strength behind his aim, he raced forward with a war cry
piercing the stillness and sailed the spear across the clearing just as the
tiger’s haunches bunched in readiness to pounce inside the cave. Jaggar’s aim
was true. The spear sliced through the dense fur and muscle, halting the animal
in its tracks. The tiger gurgled once in surprised pain then slumped to the
ground.

Tramping across the vine-covered forest floor, Jaggar bent
to retrieve one lifeless back paw of the huge cat and easily dragged it away
from the cave opening. Turning, he cocked his head and listened intently.

Her breathing came to him from somewhere in the darkness,
small hitches of air separated by whimpers of fear.

Jaggar returned to the entrance, remembering a flash of her
white hair and eyes the color of the sky above him.

Now his gaze settled on the opening of the cave. “Come out!”
he ordered.

There was a telltale shuffling sound and he instantly knew
she moved farther into the interior of the cave. The little minx meant to
escape his clutches. He had killed for her, most definitely saved her life, yet
she would not come easily. Anger inflated his broad chest as he sank to his
knees and burrowed into the murky chamber. Her essence flooded his nostrils, a
mixture of feminine musk and sweet morning air that clung to her skin. His cock
stirred as the bulk of his huge body sealed the light from entering, and he
moved farther into the darkness, his arm swiping blindly to locate her.

His hunter skills focused on a movement to his right. He
pounced and curled his fingers around a slim feminine ankle. Despite her
efforts to shake him off, his captive was no match for Jaggar’s physical
strength. He backed out, easily dragging her squirming body along with him.

She fought like a wildcat, her nails clawing at his thick
wrist and the strong fingers that banded her ankle, but Jaggar paid no mind and
easily yanked her through the opening. His dark eyes shuttered. Lust burned in
his groin at the sight of her sarong that wound high about her waist as she
continued to kick with her free leg. His eyes took in the slim line of her
velvety thighs and rested on her exposed cunt. His anger instantly forgotten,
he wrestled her wriggling body to the mossy earth with his massive size and
effortlessly pinned her slender wrists above her head. The fingers of his free
hand traced her luscious curves.

She spit at him and fought to bite the tender underside of
one bulging arm. Her curves forgotten, Jaggar clamped his hand over her exposed
furred mound. “Cease your struggles!”

The woman gasped in surprise. Jaggar chuckled at the heated
disgust that settled in her gaze. It was easy to disregard the extreme
abhorrence that blazed within them because the round, blue orbs now captured
his attention. Her eyes matched perfectly to the clear blue sky of earlier. His
appreciative gaze cast a path across her slim nose, to her full
strawberry-colored lips and back to the cloud of white locks spread across the
forest’s floor. So different from the Stonemen females whose dark skin
shimmered in the day’s sun, he mused. This female beneath him was a trophy and
a possession that would stand out in his village and he would be the envy of
all. He could take her now, lose himself in her hot sheath, but there would be
plenty of time for mating in the days to come. The warrior hunters already on
their way back to the fortress, waited for his return.

He reached up and ran his fingers through the thick waves of
her hair.

“You will do nicely. Of all the women taken today, I have
captured the grandest prize.”

The woman beneath him closed her eyes and jerked her head
away, struggling to break the contact of his fingers whispering through her
hair. Her chest rose and fell rapidly as she drew in deep mouthfuls of air,
delighting Jaggar as he remembered her wet, naked breasts earlier at the
stream. Yet she remained silent. Relentlessly, he tugged his fingers through
the white strands, hoping to gain another response of any kind. Finally, her
eyes snapped open and she silently glared up with deep, burning revulsion.

The corner of his mouth quirked upward with delight. “You
have nothing to say? That is good. When I mate a woman, I only want to hear her
cries of pleasure.” As he said it, his hand moved back to cup her mound. Having
her in his grasp was a perfect moment.

She groaned and struggled to close her legs, but Jaggar used
his powerful thighs to spread her knees wider as he shifted his position and
lay beside her. His hand settled on the flat of her stomach, noticing how the
soft skin beneath his fingertips flinched from the touch. “I have never seen a
woman who looks like you. I would hazard a guess, however, that among your
breed of people you are considered comely. So it is my assumption that someone
as fair of face as you surely has had a man’s cock pumping inside. That is
good. I’ve no time to break in virgins.” His fingers drifted back through her
soft pubic hair and lower in an attempt to gain more reaction. He couldn’t help
himself. He longed to hear her voice and provoking her seemed the only thing to
help reach that end.

Nothing—except an angry widening of her eyes so palpable
that it could have sliced him in two.

A heated smile curled his mouth upward. Jaggar was good at
playing the sexual game. He would be the victor in the end. He flattened his
hand until the length of his middle finger rested in the warmth of her dampened
slit. Her lids fluttered slightly, but she remained mute as sparks shot from
the blue depths of her almond-shaped eyes.

Jaggar nodded slightly with a smile that continued to twitch
his mouth. Hooking a thick middle finger, he dragged it through her slit from
her ass upward until the roughened tip stroked her swelling clit. Her body
jerked beneath him and her warm breath tickled across his cheek. “Ahhh, a
response. I know you can speak. I listened to the soft sound of your words and
your laughter back at the pond.” His finger pressured her erect nub.

“Stop!”

“Stop something we both want?” His finger swirled around her
moist clit once more.

“It is not a want! You are the last beast I will mate with!”

“A beast? I think not. A beast is one such as the carcass
lying at the edge of the trees, a beast that would easily have killed you for a
quick meal. I want an easy morsel too, but not one that would end your life for
an eternity. I want the taste of you on my tongue. I only hope to steal away
your breath for a short time as you moan with pleasure.”

Jaggar’s fingertip slipped back through her soft mons until
it rested at the threshold of her womanly heat. A sigh of regret slipped out.
“For as much as I could find myself lost within you, the day grows long. There
will be a lifetime ahead of us to bask in the sinful pleasure of mating.” He
rose to his knees before he let her go, keeping a close eye on her as she
scrambled to a sitting position, tugged her sarong to her knees and wrapped her
arms about her trembling body.

“Stand up, woman, and tell me your name.”

He watched her startled gaze flow over the tightly corded
muscles of his arms and across the breadth of his massive chest. Jaggar knew
his towering presence brooked no obstinacy on her part and eventually she would
realize it. But at the moment, the soft contours of her face were a constant
changing plane of emotions and it delighted him immensely. He knew the exact
moment the female realized she had no choice but to do as he demanded. Slowly,
she rose to her feet, dwarfed by his sheer size. The top of her head came only
to his chest.

She raised her chin in defiance, her eyes shooting sparks of
hatred.

“I demand your name,” he ground out with a booming voice and
kept his features as severe as he possibly could and admiring her grit at the
same time.

She scowled in a show of insolence and jutted her chin
higher before placing her palms against her slim hips.

She flinched hard when he reached out, and Jaggar wondered
if she thought he would beat her back to the ground for her disrespect.
Instead, his fingers clutched her upper arm. He hauled her closer to the dead
tiger, yanked out his spear and silently led her from the glade. When he knew
she couldn’t see his face, a smile flirted across his lips. Yes, the woman
would definitely make the rest of his life interesting.

* * * * *

Hours later, Kella stumbled along beside the Stoneman in an
effort to keep pace with his long strides. The more she fought his hold, the
more ominous his features became. She did not care. What did she have to lose?
He would most likely mate with her then choke the breath from her lungs.
Stonemen were sadistic animals. Better a quick death than days of torture. A
streak of fear such as she’d never known nearly paralyzed her. Yes, better to
die quickly. Kella knew the stories, had listened to the tales around a tribal
fire. She prayed for death, quick and sure.

The sun’s rays still heated the last vestiges of the
afternoon. Beads of perspiration trickled between her heavy breasts, yet the
heat seemed not to affect him at all. Kella was certain that if she fell
senseless to the ground, he would simply drag her across the rocky terrain they
now traveled through, unmindful as the skin was scraped away from her bones.

She had studied him as she stumbled endlessly on through the
dense forest and upward now and deeper into the mountain’s foothills. His
thighs were heavy as the sturdiest tree trunks in the forest, his muscular arms
matching. A mass of black, straight hair was caught with a leather strap atop
her captor’s head, but loose, dark strands whipped in the wind currents as they
traveled higher and higher now into the Grand Mountains. He had taken off his
hairshirt and wrapped it about his waist. His bare chest spanned an arm’s
length. But it was the color of the giant’s skin that continually had her
wondering if he were totally human. The sunlight glinted off his rippling
muscles that were a deep shade of near black and panther sleek as they tramped
always farther and farther from her home.

The sun now hovered in the western sky, an orange glowing
ball behind the highest peak of the mountainous region. Kella refused to give
in to the numbing weariness, working hard to stay upright. The Stoneman’s hand
still clamped her upper arm and the few times she’d tripped, he’d easily kept
her from pitching to the ground as he pulled her forward. Onward they traveled
as the day turned to black ebony, and still the warrior kept moving, unmindful
of her whimpers as she stumbled. How could he know where they traveled? Kella
could not even see the hand holding her upright. When he finally stopped and
easily hauled her over his shoulder, Kella didn’t have the energy to fight off
the touch of his thick fingers on her ass as she hung limply.

Kella snapped awake when she was lifted from his shoulder
and forced to stand beside him. She blinked, momentarily confused, until her
eyes widened in surprise. The moon glowed now, casting a beam across a stone
wall that rose sharply to the night sky, seeming to have erupted from thick
foliage without a base.

The Stonemen’s fortress. Her heart sank. Once she was inside
the rock barrier she most likely would never see her homeland or her clan
again.

“Open!” he ordered loudly. A heavy wooden door creaked wide.

Her captor entered through an opening in the rock wall and
dragged her along a beaten path lined with small stone huts and lit torches. It
was a sight Kella had never seen. Her people lived in tents made from hide.
Riotous revelry met her ears as they rounded a corner and entered into an open
area that was well lit by numerous small fires. She had never heard such a
clamor nor seen so many people in one gathering spot. Her heart sank into her
stomach. The captured women of her tribe were each tied to an overhead wooden
beam in the center. Huge dark-skinned men crowded around them in the firelight.

Jaggar hailed the onlookers and tightened his grip on
Kella’s arm when she planted her feet and fought to shake off his hold.

“Cease your struggles, woman.”

She only fought harder.

With a rumbling chuckle, he tossed his spear to a nearby man
and yanked her body close to his. “It is useless to fight. You can either
submit or you can join your female friends. Either way you will be mine.”

Kella curled her fist and swung for his chin, connecting
with a blow that sent a line of pain rippling through her hand and up her arm.
Her efforts only made him laugh as he swept her squirming body up and over his
shoulder once more, and he tramped through the milling crowd.

“Ho, Jaggar! It seems you have found the one you sought!” a
man called out. “But are you sure she is woman or wildcat?”

“Crete, my friend! The wildness only gives me hope there
will be more woman to tame!” Jaggar laughed with a flash of teeth. “It does
seem she has chosen to join her tribeswomen. A foolish choice no doubt.”

Before Kella knew it, she was sliding down over his hard
chest as he accepted a length of rope from the man.

But Kella was having none of it. She let her body go limp
and when her feet hit the ground she slipped from the Stoneman’s hold. She had
not taken two running steps when his arm snaked around her waist and she was
yanked back against the hard slab of his belly, then screeched in protest when
he dipped to nestle his growing cock against her buttocks.

Jaggar tossed the rope back to Crete. “Tie the woman’s
hands, but watch your bullocks unless you plan to let others pleasure
themselves within the wet softness of our prisoners.”

Once the deed was done, Jaggar easily wrestled Kella’s
squirming body into line with the other captives and bound her hands to the
overhead beam. She glared upward, her face red from exertion, beads of
perspiration wetting her brow and firm breasts heaving beneath the sarong. She
ignored the audible sobbing of the other women as Jaggar stepped close once
more.

“You will be sorry when our clansmen come for us,” she
spouted.

She watched one of his arched eyebrows cock upward. He
grinned widely and Kella yearned to slap his black cheek. It was something that
never ever would have come to mind if she were dealing with males of her clan. To
be so disrespectful among her own would mean death. And right now death looked
to be in the near future. Kella never knew she could be so brave.

His hand cupped her chin in a firm yet gentle hold. “I think
not, woman. Your men are like mice and scatter about in confusion when it comes
to battle.” He reached out to fondle one tantalizing breast.

With the heat of helpless anger, Kella spit at him. Her
mistake.

Jaggar bunched the neckline of her sarong in a powerful grip
and yanked her close. The knotted rope at her wrists bit into her skin but was
immediately forgotten when he clamped a hand between her warm thighs.

He bent closer, his eyes seeming to glow from within.

Whether it was from anger or lust, she did not know. Kella
waited on a precipice of the unknown, waiting for him to rip her apart from
limb to limb.

When he spoke, his words instead were directed to the
chuckling crowd of warriors behind him. “I claim this woman before all. It will
be my pleasure when she bows in respect and begs me to lie between these silken
thighs!”

His declaration brought concurring guffaws from the many
dark-skinned men milling around them.

“Let our new concubines bask in the last of the evening heat
while we dine and drink to build our strength for the coming hours,” he continued.
“I have a good notion the night will be long and filled with enjoyment!”

The warriors dispersed, but Jaggar tightened his hold on
Kella’s heart-shaped chin as he withdrew his opposite hand from the heat
between her legs. His free palm brushed upward to curl around the back of her
neck, clutching the slim length in a firm grip.

Silently, he dipped his head and ran his tongue over her
cheek until he forced her mouth to his in a bruising manner. Kella whimpered
beneath the onslaught of his caress, having no clue why the man would do such a
thing. No one had ever pressed their lips to hers. It was a foreign thing to
her, and though strange pings of heat rippled through her body, she struggled
against him. His tongue danced over her teeth, swiping inside the warm cavern
then licking at her swollen lips before delving deep inside once more.

When Jaggar ended the assault, he stepped away but not
before tracing roughened fingertips over a covered breast to pluck at an erect
nipple beneath the soft fur of her sarong. She swallowed back the lump in her
throat as those same fingers drifted down to rest against the flat of her
belly. His heavy-lidded eyes stared warmly, confusing her beyond a doubt. Where
was his anger?

“A kiss to remember you by,” he murmured, then leaned
forward again as his tongue swept across her trembling bottom lip. Abruptly,
his exploration ended.

He turned and walked away.

Kella’s body flushed with unbearable heat. Her lips burned.
The insides of her belly churned. She hung limply, stunned at the strange
flickering of something akin to delight still heating the area between her
legs. Words of disgust had flown from her brain. Was the Stoneman a Shaman of
some sorts to be able to create this burn when she detested him so thoroughly?
She would be powerless to resist if he was. His strange magic would render her
helpless.