Rituals of Passion (Brides of Caralon, Book One)

by Alexander, Lacey

  She sat silent, sad and stunned as Lavonia dressed and went about the chamber snuffing out candles while the boys did up their leather pants. As they all moved toward the door to depart, Maven looked up to see Donnell shine one last gaze of longing into her eyes before exiting.

  Yes, she thought, maybe I shall think of handsome Donnell and his large, lovely cock when I’m forced to fuck Dane. Maybe that will help. Still, a shiver of fear skittered through her as she crawled beneath the thin fur blanket and blew out the candle next to her bed.

  Chapter Five

  Dane was growing weary of the cruel game he played with himself. More than once, he’d been tempted to forget his vow and grab the nearest willing female for some relief. More times than he could count, he’d considered reaching down and doing the job himself.

  But if a man couldn’t control himself sexually, could he control anything at all? He stayed determined not to let his cock release until his wedding night. For the good of himself during the Giving Ceremony, and for the good of his young wife on the eve when they married.

  His caravan stopped to camp early that night, knowing Enrick’s fortress was not far in the distance now. As Dane pulled up to a long wooden table prepared for him and his men, he heartily enjoyed the stew his cooks had prepared, as well as the conversation with those in his service.

  Across from him sat Kells, his best friend and the commander of his army, whom he’d pulled from duty to travel with him on this momentous occasion. Dane slanted a grin in his friend’s direction. “You have eyes for the girl in white, don’t you?” he asked, following his friend’s gaze to a blonde beauty in a white leather frock who currently toted pallets and blankets into the tents being erected around them. He didn’t know her name—she was a new maid in his fortress—but she was comely, to be certain.

  Kells answered with a hearty laugh, tossing back a mane of pale brown that fell past his shoulders. “Lonya has kept my cock on edge since the beginning of the journey.”

  “Lonya? So you’ve made her acquaintance then?”

  “No, actually. I’ve simply asked around to learn her name.”

  “May I ask why not? It’s not like you to be shy with women.”

  Kells gave his head a short shake. “An aberration, I suppose.” He glanced toward Lonya once more. “Her beauty…turns me a bit weak, I’m afraid.”

  Dane couldn’t help chuckling. “The great and mighty warrior, Kells of Rawley, afraid to approach a beautiful girl—I never thought I’d see the day.”

  “Just as I never thought I’d see the day when the great and feared Dane took an inexperienced virgin bride.” Dane was known for enjoying women who were skilled in the ways of sex, so he well understood Kells’ remark, yet he only smiled.

  “The eldest daughter of Enrick, Ruler of Caralon, is a prize well worth a little sacrifice. Besides, the royal girls have their Orientation. And if that doesn’t train her well enough, I shall happily take on the task.” Pausing, he looked around to find the object of his friend’s affections. “Now I propose you finish your wine, then use your charms on that lovely blonde.”

  But to Dane’s surprise, Kells gently shook his head, apparently still too shy to approach her. Well, Dane thought, he might not be able to indulge in fucking any of the pretty girls in the caravan, but that didn’t mean Kells couldn’t—or wouldn’t. “Join me in my tent after the meal then,” he said to his friend. “I wish to speak with you about some matters of the wedding.”

  * * * * *

  Dane sat in his newly erected tent, candlelight making the space glow, when one flap was drawn gently back. The lovely Lonya peeked inside, her blue eyes wide. “You summoned me, master?” He was not technically a master to those he employed, but his workers often addressed him that way, anxious to please, and he couldn’t deny their ploy succeeded, arousing in him a knowledge of the power he held. He knew that working on his estate had become a much-sought-after situation in Rawley—he paid well, was a loyal employer, and treated most servants like members of his household, garnering respect through the region. Now that he was marrying the daughter of Caralon’s great ruler, that respect would multiply tenfold.

  “Come in,” he said to the petite blonde, whose skin was sun-kissed from days of travel.

  As she stepped inside, he noticed she’d changed into a more provocative dress. Only the wealthy could afford the silk spun on the silkworm farms, but her costume of thin tan leather still showed off her body to great advantage, dipping low into ample cleavage and rising high on her thighs.

  “Did you wish me to pleasure you, master?” she asked, and before he could even answer, she dropped to her knees in the grass before him, clearly ready to undo his pants.

  He smiled. “Not me, Lonya.” Not that she wasn’t tempting. But he didn’t think he could bear a woman’s affections at this point—the Giving Ceremony was too near, his arousal too on edge. “I wish you to pleasure Kells, the leader of my army. Do you know of him?”

  The girl’s eyes grew even bigger. “Oh yes. He is a most handsome man!”

  “He’ll be joining us shortly. Perhaps you should take off your dress while we wait.”

  Lonya didn’t hesitate to grab onto the hem of her frock and peel it off over her head, revealing soft round breasts, curving hips and a pale brown tuft of hair protecting her cunt. She turned toward the tent opening, clearly awaiting Kells, but a moment later looked over her shoulder. “Did you wish me to pleasure him here?”

  Dane nodded. “I want to watch.”

  She bit her lip as her eyes sparkled with understanding. “I will enjoy your presence, master.”

  Just as she turned back to the tent flaps, Kells stepped in from the darkness. He stopped short upon finding Lonya kneeling naked and ripe before him. He visibly caught his breath before shifting his glance to Dane, who lounged comfortably in a chair behind her. “You’re most meddlesome.”

  Dane only grinned. “And she’s most eager, my friend.”

  Kells dropped his gaze back to the slightly bronzed skin of the girl before him and spoke softly. “Is this true? Do you wish this to be, you and I?”

  She gave an enthusiastic nod. “Oh yes, commander.” Then she lowered her eyes to the sizable bulge straining against the lacings of his pants. “Oh yes.”

  A slow smile grew on Kells’ face. “Very well then. Have your way with me.”

  Dane sat back and watched as the nude girl rose up on her knees to begin working at Kells’ pants. Within seconds, his cock shot free. The two had shared women before, so Dane was not surprised to see Kells’ shaft was nearly as large as his own.

  With eager determination, Lonya began feasting on the rod, taking it full in her mouth as Kells groaned. For a moment, Dane regretted not having noticed Lonya before now—but then he reminded himself he would soon have a wife, and she would hopefully be just as eager as the lithe blonde kneeling with her round backside toward him now. As long as his bride hungered for sex the way he did, they’d suit just fine.

  After lavishing her affections over Kells’ cock for a few intense minutes, Lonya drew him to the ground with her, easing him back on the grass. Dane’s arousal grew as she straddled his friend’s hips, then slowly sheathed his long, hard rod. Kells’ deep moan managed to stiffen Dane even further and he reached down to stroke himself lightly through his leather.

  Bracing her hands on Kells’ chest, she writhed in hot, sensuous circles, releasing a purring sound that seemed to wrap around Dane’s concealed shaft. Kells lifted his hands to her hips, helping her move, then raised them to her lovely pink-tipped breasts. Together, their moans filled Dane’s tent, and he was glad he’d had the sense not to summon a female for himself tonight, for just watching was torture enough.

  Soon Lonya’s movements turned rougher, more animalistic, her breasts bouncing as she rode Kells. Her cries grew higher, more intense, as did his friend’s growls of pleasure.

  “Oh, now!” Lonya moaned. “Now!” Dane watched her pretty face contort in
the joyous agony of orgasm as Kells pumped hard up into her. She had scarcely quieted when it was Kells’ turn—Dane’s friend thrust still more urgently up into the lovely girl, both of them groaning and straining against the other, and though Dane had forced himself to stop stroking his cock, the damnable thing threatened to erupt anyway.

  Think of Maven. Save yourself for her.

  Think of Enrick, and Caralon. Save yourself for the Giving Ceremony.

  He breathed a sigh of relief when the silent pleas worked.

  Yes, blessed control was his. Control of all things. Or at least he would control all things one day. First he’d taken control of Rawley, next he’d secured the entire northern border of Caralon. Now, after his endeavors of the last few days, he felt supreme control over his body. Next would come Maven. And later, all of Caralon.

  Below him in the grass, Kells gently raked his thumbs over Lonya’s taut nipples as she smiled down at him. “Come to my tent for the night,” Kells said to her.

  “My pleasure, commander,” she cooed in reply.

  Moments later, the couple departed Dane’s tent hand in hand, Kells tossing back over his shoulder, “You might be ruthless and feared, Dane, but you’re also a good friend.”

  After they’d gone, Dane got to his feet and wandered outside. He needed a distraction of some sort to calm his cock further, enough that he could sleep, for tomorrow was the all-important day.

  As if Ares wanted to punctuate the thought, the first sight to meet his eyes as he left the tent was the fortress in the distance, lit by torches. Enrick’s castle. The glowing fort of stone and wood seemed to say he was even closer than he’d realized—closer to claiming everything he wanted.

  * * * * *

  “Take off your clothes,” Lavonia said.

  Glancing to the bathing tub—one of her mother’s most treasured and valuable artifacts—which had been brought into her room earlier, Maven stripped off her silken sleeping gown.

  Lavonia emptied another ewer of steaming hot water into the tub, saying, “There—a lovely bath for the bride-to-be.” Maven tossed her pale pink gown to the fur-covered bed and walked toward the tub, only to hear Lavonia say, “Tut, tut, tut—not yet.”

  Maven looked at her maid from where she stood naked, poised to climb in the tub. “Why not?”

  Lavonia held up a receptacle made of ancient and oh-so-expensive glass.

  Maven saw a blue paste of some sort inside. “What is it?”

  “Come here,” Lavonia said, taking a seat in the same chair she’d occupied for the previous Orientation sessions.

  As Maven approached, her maid unscrewed the receptacle’s lid and dipped her fingers inside. She reached out to smear the paste on Maven’s thigh without warning.

  “What is it?” Maven asked again, flinching.

  “Nothing to be afraid of.” Lavonia reached in for more paste and continued smearing it evenly over the length of Maven’s leg. “It will remove your body hair.”

  Maven had never heard of such a thing and she frowned. “Wh-why?”

  “Men like smooth skin,” Lavonia said, spreading the paste around Maven’s ankle, then lifting her gaze. “Don’t look so sour—you’re honored to have this special concoction. It’s very expensive and only the very wealthy can afford it. Until recently, only the royal used it, but I suspect a man as rich as your Dane will buy a supply of it for you as well. It’s certainly a luxury I have never known.”

  Dane—ugh! Why did everyone have to keep reminding her of him? All day today, everywhere she’d gone, her sisters, her mother, even the servants, had been saying Dane this, Dane that—the man’s name seemed to be on everyone’s lips. And, well, she knew why, of course—tomorrow the ruffian would take her away to Rawley—but as the time for the Giving Ceremony grew near, it seemed more and more like a long nightmare. She only hoped she would wake from it soon.

  She let out a heavy sigh, uncertain, while her maid began applying the thick substance to her other leg, covering the whole area with a thin layer. “How does it work?”

  “In a few minutes, we will wipe it off with a wet cloth and you shall be smooth as a baby’s bottom.”

  For Dane. Her stomach wrenched.

  “Lift your arms,” Lavonia said when she’d finished covering Maven’s legs.

  Maven complied, watching as the maid smeared the goo over her armpits. “Here too?”

  “Here, too,” Lavonia replied. “And not only that,” she said, finishing the two small areas and dipping her fingers back into the paste, “but here as well.” With that, she swiped the blue cream between Maven’s legs, making her balk again. “Hold still,” she said, the same as if she were fitting Maven for a dress and she’d squirmed.

  Maven pulled in her breath and tried not to fidget as her maid wiped another swath of blue paste over the top of her cunt, covering all the hair. She bit her lip, looking down. “He’ll want my pussy smooth, too?”

  Lavonia lifted her gaze. “He’ll wish to look at it, and this will give him a much clearer view.”

  Her chest tightened, although she couldn’t quite determine if she was repulsed or aroused.

  Repulsed, she decided. Definitely. This was not Donnell they were talking about, after all. If it were, she suspected it would be excitement running through her veins. But when she thought of Dane of Rawley, it was all she could do not to grimace.

  A few minutes later, Lavonia instructed her to step into a knee-deep wooden tub of water. Using a warm cloth, she began to wipe the blue paste from Maven’s legs, rinsing the cloth in the shallow tub below. She could see that her legs were indeed bare and, when she reached down, smooth to the touch.

  Lavonia continued removing the paste—from under Maven’s arms and finally from her cunt. When she walked to the viewing glass and looked down at her bare mound, she felt like a shorn sheep. “Ares,” she murmured, stunned by the appearance of her naked pussy and the sensations now swirling within it.

  “Lovely,” Lavonia said with a smile, approaching from behind to place her hands on Maven’s shoulders. “Dane will be pleased. Now into the bathing tub with you, before the water cools.”

  Still feeling more naked than ever in her life, she strode to the antique tub and stepped carefully in, sinking into the warm water that steamed with the scent of mint leaves, which Lavonia had dropped in the bottom before filling.

  She waited as Lavonia unbound her long, heavy braid, leaning her hair back in the water to wet it, and tried to relax as her maid began to wash her tresses.

  “Now,” Lavonia said, her voice uncharacteristically soft, “tell me what questions you have about the things you’ve learned these past two nights.”

  Maven barely knew where to begin, but she started by inquiring about the strange white fluid that had shot from the boys’ cocks. “You said you’d tell me why that happened.”

  Lavonia chuckled kindly. “So I did, and I will.”

  From there, Lavonia explained in more detail about babies and the methods women used to keep from getting with child when they fucked. “But as I told you before, as a married woman, you won’t need to concern yourself with that, at least not for a while. Now, what other questions plague you, dear? You must tell me, for this is your last chance to ask.”

  Over the hour that followed, they discussed the woman’s orgasm, and the man’s, the various methods by which a woman could suck a cock, things a woman could do to entice a man—“like touching your breasts, a man loves to watch a woman caress her own breasts,” Lavonia said—and how she might use all these skills to best advantage for gaining things she wanted from her husband.

  That was a new idea to her—and quite worth study. If she wanted to be given the same respect and power her mother was granted from her father, perhaps she could use sex to attain it.

  The only question Lavonia still wouldn’t answer was about the Maran tiles. She only laughed when Maven asked. “For the last time, my dear, you’ll learn the secret of the tiles on your wedding night.” Th
en Lavonia leaned around to look into Maven’s eyes, lifting her chin with one bent finger. “But trust me, Maven, it’s nothing to fear. In fact, it may well be the most thrilling event you will ever experience. So when the time comes, don’t be shocked. Instead, take my advice and savor it.”

  After Maven had left the tub, putting her pink sleeping gown back on, Lavonia sat behind her on the bed, rebraiding her hair. “For the last time,” Lavonia reminded her. “As you know, on your wedding night, your hair will be unbound, declaring you are no longer a virgin, for all to see.”

  To her surprise, that held appeal as well. She would no longer be the innocent royal daughter whose bound hair reminded everyone she didn’t know the ways of sex. Even though she would know no one at Rawley, at least her unbound hair might help her fit in with the other women there, a comfort she and her sisters had never known in their guarded world.

  As Lavonia finished the braid, she squeezed Maven’s shoulders. “I shall miss you, dear girl.”

  Oh Ares—everything had occurred so quickly that Maven hadn’t even had a chance to consider the fact that she’d be leaving Lavonia behind. She turned to face her maid, her Orienter, her friend. “I don’t know what I’ll do without you, Lavonia.”

  Although she looked sad, the older woman managed a smile. “I suspect you shall do quite well. I only hope you’ll feel I did a satisfactory job with your Orientation.”

  Maven nodded. “Oh yes, I’m sure I will. I’m certain you did.” Then she sighed, her eyes still locked on the maid’s. “What will you do now that I’ll be gone?”

  This time the maid’s smile shone bolder. “Your father has offered me a position overseeing all the fortress’s maids.”

  Her answer heartened Maven. “I’m so glad. And I know you shall do well at it.”

  “As you will do well as the mistress of Dane’s estate.” Lavonia blinked, looking both wistful and wise. “Tomorrow your new life begins, Maven. Tomorrow you will be given to Dane of Rawley.”