MatingRitual (5 page)

Kella’s eyes fluttered open to take in unfamiliar
surroundings. She scrambled to a sitting position, taking in the huge fur dais
she laid upon, the sputtering candles mounted around the room, and the fact her
body ached horribly. The early morning light filtered in through a high window
in the stone wall, a window she had not seen the night before. The back of her
hand stifled a groan as she fell back into the softness surrounding her.

Jaggar.

The beat of her heart quickened.

Where was he? Would he be returning soon to do the same
things to her body? She couldn’t understand what happened, only that the
Stoneman’s mating ritual was a far cry from what she’d been accustomed to
seeing and to participating in throughout her life. Jaggar’s cock pounding inside
her body was totally unlike the times she waited out the frenzied mating of a
countryman.

Rolling to her side, she hugged her knees to her naked
chest, again wincing at the many aches rippling through her muscles and forced
thoughts of the huge warrior from her brain. She needed to think about the
coming days and form a plan.

Marte. Kella worried over the fate of her friend. Would they
ever see one another again? Had Marte fared the night unscathed, or had the
Stonemen’s magic taken over her body and mind the same way? Mating with Jaggar
was like nothing she had ever experienced. He had done things to her like no
other man of her own tribe. His hard man part inside her only brought joy, not
pain and disgust, and then the need to eat ragweed to keep her belly from
swelling.

Kella shot straight up, her hair wild and heavy against her
bare skin. Her slim fingers brushed across the flat of her stomach.

She needed to find the magic weed! If not, her belly would
swell and she most likely would become an outcast for all to torment, both
within the Stonemen boundaries and her own tribal laws.
If
she could
even escape to get back to her homeland. Her swollen lips parted and the tip of
her tongue darted out to wet them. She needed water. Her stomach growled and
Kella realized how long it had been since she had eaten. She and the other
females had not been allowed to partake in any sustenance before the
Purification Rite.

Her brain swirled. Yes, she needed to eat. She needed cool
liquid to quench her parched throat. Those two things would give her strength
to make an escape. Without them, there was not much of a chance Kella could
find her way back to her clan.

Memories of the night before flooded her swimming brain and
she tossed them away as her gaze settled on a high window in the room. Quickly,
she shoved aside the furs, dropped her feet to the cold stone floor and hurried
across the room. Even stretching on her tiptoes, she could not reach the window
ledge with her fingertips. Her blue gaze cast about in search. Within seconds,
she dragged a wooden chair near the window. Before climbing atop the rickety
piece of furniture, Kella raced back to collect her torn sarong. She slipped on
the still-damp garment and grabbed a longer piece of leather thong hanging from
a hook. It was enough to hold the torn edges together.

With a fortifying breath, she climbed onto the chair’s seat.
Now she could reach. Outside the window lay freedom and Kella had no choice but
to take it, even though she had no clue how high off the ground she was. She
had been chosen only days earlier, something she had waited a lifetime for, so
she needed to do something! She grabbed the rough-hewn window ledge and hung on
for dear life as she struggled to balance her body weight and pull herself
upward. Her tired and sore muscles protested and her bare feet found the top
rung of the chair as she rested and searched the outside of the building.

Suddenly Jaggar’s voice boomed loudly from somewhere in the
house. She cast a quick glance at the exterior of the wall, noting a way to
drop from the window and not be hurt. She could not give herself away by being
discovered immediately. Surely he would see her from the window and her only
chance would be gone. When his voice resounded more closely in the upper hallway,
she made a decision. Leaping to the floor, she dragged the chair back to its
original spot and plunked down on top of it just as he entered.

Jaggar’s huge frame filled the doorway. Kella’s fingers
clasped the edges of her sarong and she forced herself to remain still as he
stepped into the room and used an elbow to slam the door behind him. In one
hand, he balanced a flattened vessel. The other held a waterskin, no doubt for
drinking. He crossed to a thick-legged table and tossed his possessions on the
flat surface without taking his gaze from her. Retracing his steps, he reached
up and pulled the wooden latch into place.

“You are awake,” he noted while crossing his arms over his
wide chest.

Kella straightened in the chair, remaining mute and
struggling to keep her senses about her when he approached.

“Stand up. Bring the chair to the table.”

She lifted her chin, ready to do battle, but suddenly he
grabbed her arm and yanked her upward and hard against his chest. He breathed
heavily as he stared down into her wide eyes.

“Who said you could clothe yourself?”

Kella swallowed, refusing to back down. “I was cold.”

“Then you should have covered yourself with the furs on the
bed.”

He uttered the word “bed” and Kella’s stomach jumped in
remembrance of what happened on that very surface. “I was sitting on the chair.
I wanted my sarong.”

“Take it off.”

“What?”

“Take it off or I will rip it from your body again.” He let
go of her arm and stepped back.

Kella knew it was hopeless to argue. He never took her gaze from
his, her fingers plucked at the knot until her torn sarong fell open. Quickly
she shrugged it away and tossed it to the floor. Her heart pounded, but she was
not sure if it was fear or excitement induced by the lustful heat settling in
his dark eyes.

He closed the distance between them. She braced her stance,
watching one big hand reach out to settle warmly against her waist. His fingers
tripped across an imaginary line and up her midriff. Jaggar fondled a firm
globe and like magic again, a line of heat shot through her body to smolder
between her legs.

Silently she stood there without swaying, letting him knead
her breasts, understanding the pleasure now that his touch created. Whether she
wanted to escape or not, nothing could have pulled her away, not when he played
with her and made the fire build inside. In her mind she followed the journey
of his hand when it brushed over her lightly pelted mound, then lower. She
waited, hoping, knowing…

A thick finger flicked inside her cunt. A light gasp echoed
from her throat when he pulled it back out to trail a damp path over and around
her hip. His eyes narrowed, the hint of a smile turned the corner of his mouth.
A fingertip drifting up and down her crack taunted the opening of her ass. With
gentle ease, he pushed his fingertip inward.

“I brought you food and water.”

Kella’s jaw clenched hard as she squeezed around his
fingertip to hold the digit in place. Food and water were a thing of the past.
She existed in the heated moment, living for her next breath and the enjoyment
his finger would bring.

She nearly toppled over when he slipped it out, moved away
and turned his back to cross the room. Kella blinked hard as she gasped her
instant disappointment.

“Bring the chair. I wish you to eat.”

Her gaze darted slowly from his broad back to the meat piled
in the vessel, and then back to Jaggar when he sank to the sleeping furs with
an audible sigh.

She blinked again, in awe with how a simple touch of his
hand made her magically teeter on the edge of something she was only beginning
to understand.

“Eat!” His voice boomed out.

This time his words startled her out of her revelry. Kella
hurried to the chair. Picking up a charred piece of meat, she took her first
bite and realized how hungry she was. Silently she finished the entire bowl,
washing it down with chilled water. She also needed to attend to another need.
“I need to go outside.”

Jaggar lifted his head from the fur. “For what reason?”

“What reason do you think? I have been in this room long. My
body needs to go outside.”

She watched him roll from the bed, again amazed at his sheer
size. Jaggar strolled to her sarong, bent to pick it up, then handed it over.

“Cover yourself and we will leave this room.”

Kella quickly slipped into her torn sarong and tied the
leather thong securely around her waist. Jaggar said nothing as he reached up
to lift the lock. He turned to her. “If you try to make an escape, know that I
will catch you and you will pay for making that mistake.”

She remained mute. It was as if he had read her mind.

She followed him down the passageway to the steps. Jaggar
acted as if having a white-haired woman in his shadow was an everyday
occurrence. Not so with the servants. They stared at her, whispered behind
cloaked hands and pointed as she was led to the outside door.

Once clear of the house, Jaggar took her arm and led her to
a wall. Behind it, water tunneled by in a ditch.

“There.”

Kella hurried across the short distance, relieved Jaggar had
turned away, yet knowing all his senses were tuned in. If she tried to run, she
would not make it far.

Once her bodily ablutions were completed, she quietly
rejoined him. Jaggar nodded at the path and indicated she was to go first. With
a longing glance at the forested mountains in the distance, Kella trudged
forward.

Rounding the first bend on the way back to Jaggar’s home,
she glanced up to see Marte heading in her direction with Crete flanking close
behind. She raced headlong in her friend’s direction with her arms stretched
wide and unmindful if her actions angered her captor or not. Seeing Marte’s
face and knowing the woman still breathed filled her heart with joy.

They came together, clasping each other with tear-filled
eyes.

“Marte, I have worried over you!” she whispered in the other
woman’s ear.

“Oh Kella,” she cried quietly. “I did not know if I would
see you alive again. We have to escape.”

“Do you know of the others and their fate?”

Marte leaned back to gaze at her friend’s features. “You are
the only one I have seen.” Her trembling hand rose to touch Kella’s cheek.
“Kella, I have been mated the entire night.” Tears sprung to her eyes. “I know
of nowhere to find ragweed. I…” She could not continue.

Kella heard the despair of her words. “Marte, be brave. If
there is a way, I will find it. I will be sure to get it to you.”

“Get what?” Jaggar’s voice boomed beside them just as Crete
approached from the other direction.

“It is nothing,” Kella said as she backed away from Marte.
She watched sympathetically as Crete grasped her friend’s arm and pulled her
slight body against his. Marte’s fearful gaze dropped to the stones around her
feet in total submissiveness just before Crete forced her back down the path
before him.

Kella felt Jaggar’s hand reach around her body and he pulled
her against his firm belly.

“Who is that woman?” he asked.

“A friend,” she returned wistfully.

“She is Crete’s mate now before she is your friend.”

Kella spun from his hold and tossed him an angry glare. Fear
of the future raged in her brain. “She will always be my friend first! I have known
her since she was a small child! And no Stoneman will ever come between us,”
she ground out. “Not even when our Gods forsake us for your horrid grunting
upon our bodies.”

She turned from him and raced down the path. His heavy
footfalls echoed on the stone directly behind her, but Kella kept running until
she reached the stone steps of his domain. Shoving the heavy wooden door open,
she sprinted past open-mouthed servants, one of whom she was certain would halt
her flight until he saw Jaggar’s large frame enter behind her. Up the stairs
she went until she hurried through the door to her captor’s chambers and flung
herself onto the fur-lined bed.

She ignored Jaggar’s entrance into the room only seconds
behind her, silently listening as the lock was put into place. Pulling a heavy
fur over her body, she kept her back to him as silent tears wet the softness
beneath her head.

“Kella.”

She pulled the furs tighter around her body, waiting to see
if he would yank her from the bed and finally beat her for her insolence. Kella
did not care. She fervently hoped her Gods would slay the beast of a Stoneman.
Let
him advance
, her mind screamed. But after a minute passed, it seemed he
would keep his distance. She continued to stare at the opposite wall.

Her peace was short-lived, however, because soon she felt
the weight of him beside her. Kella tossed away the furs and scrambled to the
far edge, but before she could drop her feet to the floor, a huge hand snaked
out to drag her back. She fought, kicking and swinging with her fists until
suddenly she was flat on her back. Jaggar easily pinned her wrists above her
head with one hand as the other quickly unknotted the strap of leather at her
waist. Her sarong fell open and her naked body came into full view. His flinty
gaze stared down as he maneuvered a thick thigh across her lower body. Kella
was caught.

“No!” she screamed up at him.

Tenderly he reached out and wiped a tear from her cheek.

“Yes. It will be because I say it will be.”

“No!” she repeated and turned her head away as his lips
descended.

The slim length of her neck presented an easy target for
Jaggar’s mouth. Soft kisses were pressed against her warm skin. Kella swallowed
hard, battling to remain inert and unresponsive as her heart beat crazily. It
was like this with him, the emotion that drugged her senses and yearned for the
magical release only Jaggar induced. Her gaze skittered about, then anchored on
the window opening and the blue sky lining the highest peaks of the Grand
Mountains.