Barbarian’s Bride by Ruby Dixon
13
Days Later
NORA
The bathing pool is full today, which is weird. I normally take a soak in the middle of the day because most of the hunters are out at that time and I don't feel bad for lounging around for a while. But today, the pool is full and I watch as Ariana sits on the edge of the pool, a blanket over her nakedness as her mate relaxes in the water between her legs. She braids his hair for him as he talks to one of the elders, and both Georgie and Stacy are in the water, along with their mates. Oh. I hesitate and then turn around to head back to my cave. It's not that I don't like them. I do. But the water can only hold so many bodies, and the thought of rubbing up against my tribes-mates naked—because everyone swims naked—is a little weird to me.
I'm feeling a little restless, though, and when I go back to the cave and see my mate, I'm relieved. Here's the distraction I need. "Hi there, stranger." I grin up at him. "Did you come looking for me?"
He looks a bit guilty at the sight of me. "Are you not going to bathe?"
"Do I need to?" I shrug and move over to the spot where my folded clothes are laid out. "The water's full anyhow. Everyone's hanging around today for some reason."
"Ah." Dagesh nods. "The weather is not good. That is why everyone stays."
"Really? It seemed all right to me." I glanced at the main cave's entrance just briefly, but what I remember seemed to be sunny—or at least as sunny as this planet gets.
"Rokan says he has a feeling it will get bad," Dagesh says. He tugs on his ear, looking flustered.
"That'll do it, then," I say cheerfully. "Well, if it's not too bad yet, do you want to go with me to pick berries or tea leaves or something? I'm feeling a bit restless."
"I…" My mate hesitates. "I have other things I must do. I am sorry."
"Oh. Okay." I study him for a moment because he seems distracted. "Are you all right, love?" I bite my lip, and it's on the tip of my tongue to ask if something's bothering him. A specific something about last night, in which I faked yet another orgasm. It's not that I don't like the touching or the sex—I love all of that—but he's not giving me what I need to climax. I've been faking small orgasms for a while now. Not every time. Sometimes I still manage to have the occasional orgasm. But lately it's been harder and harder for me to get my mind to that place where I can just let go, and I worry he's noticed.
I love Dagesh. I don't want to hurt his feelings over something like this. He's grossed out by the thought of rough sex, and yet rough sex is what I need to really come hard enough to see stars. It's a pickle, but it's also not worth fighting over. I'm happy with him. Sex isn't all that important in the big scheme of things.
I…can't believe I'm telling myself that, but it's the truth. If having Dagesh means having vanilla sex for the rest of my life, then it'll just be a little boring. I'm fine with that. I really am. The feeling of missing out will eventually go away.
"You…sure you're okay?" I ask him again.
He moves to my side and puts his hands on my shoulders. "My mate, you have my heart. Do not worry over anything." He presses a kiss to my forehead. "All will be well, I promise."
So does that mean they're not well right now? I frown, about to ask this, when there's a scratch at the privacy screen over the front of our cave. "It's me, Stacy," calls a cheery voice. "I'm about to head out and gather some soap-berries. Did you want to come with?"
Dagesh springs into action. He grabs my clothes and pushes them into my arms. "You should go with her. We can use more soap-berries."
"Oh, uh, okay." I try to hide my frown, because I wanted to spend the day with my mate, not with my friend. But it feels almost as if Dagesh is trying to get rid of me, and I worry I've somehow offended him. Chewing on my lip, I hesitate, then decide to push it aside. "All right. Give me five, Stacy. I need to dress."
"Cool, I'll wait out here!"
Dagesh gives me a bright-eyed smile and hands me my boots. Jeez. Now it really feels like he wants to get rid of me.
* * *
If I seem a bit mopey,Stacy doesn't comment on it. We pick berries and chat while staying somewhat close to the cave, and the weather never turns, much to my surprise. By the time we head back to the cave, we've got full baskets of soap-berries, enough for both of us for several months and enough to share with others. As we head into the cave, Pashov is at the entrance. Instead of greeting his mate, he immediately dashes inside.
"That was weird," I comment.
Stacy gives me a sly look. "It was, wasn't it?"
I frown at her, but don't comment on it. Everyone's been a little weird all day long, if I'm being honest. Maybe I'm just being sensitive. Maybe it's pregnancy hormones. Is it too early for that sort of thing? I have no idea. No one knows how long a human-sa-khui pregnancy is going to be, and it's all guesswork from here on out.
Dagesh appears at the entrance, meeting us and taking the basket from my hands.
"Oh, hi," I breathe, pleased to see my mate. "You didn't have to come out here to get me."
"I did," he says, and I expect him to heft the basket and bring it back to our cave. Instead, he sets it down near the entrance and takes my hands in his. "Come."
"Uh, I'm coming. What's going on?" He's got such a bright-eyed look on his face that it makes me wonder, just a little, what he's up to.
Dagesh just grins wider and leads me in. My eyes adjust to the darkness—I didn't realize how bright it was out in the snow—and when I can see, it looks as if the entire tribe is gathered in the main section of the cave. I look over at Stacy, but she's grinning. Dagesh tugs me forward, leading me to the center of the group, and as he does, I smell food and the sour scent of the ice planet version of alcohol, a fermented drink called sah-sah.
As we move forward, Kemli puts a string of colorful seeds around my neck. Georgie moves forward and puts a headband on my head, and attached to it is a decorated piece of leather. "It's not exactly a veil," she says, "but I hope it'll do."
Dagesh pulls me past them, gazing up at the ceiling. As he does, I realize he's tugging me under a canopy that someone's set up. Well, I guess it's kind of a canopy. It's two big, shaggy furs mounted on spears, and he ducks under it and pulls me with him.
"What's going on?" I ask, bewildered. "Is there a party? Is it someone's birthday? Mine's not until the summer, and you guys don't even have summer."
My mate just tugs on my hands until I'm positioned under the canopy, and he beams at me. His braid swings as he looks around, as if making sure everyone is gathered, and then he sets my hands down. He takes a small leather package that someone hands him and then looks me in the eye.
"This is for you, my mate."
He throws the wrappings down to the ground and stomps on them.
I blink. "Um. Babe? Are you mad at me?" I glance around, worried, but no one else seems to be bizarred out by this. He hands me a leather pouch, then gives me an encouraging look. "What's in this?"
"It is not a glass," he admits. "But I hope it will do."
A glass? I open the pouch and see the bone cup inside. It's not one of the more carved ones, but it's as delicate and fragile as porcelain. As I stare at it, Dagesh gives the one under his foot another helpful stomp. When I look up, he gives me a worried glance. "Am I not doing it right?"
Doing it right?
I blink. Then, the light goes on slowly.
A veil.
A chuppah.
We're breaking cups. Not glassware, but cups. Oh my. He's marrying me.
"Dagesh? Is this a wedding?" I cry, my hand going to my breast in surprise.
He just grins at me, so boyish and handsome. "I wished to honor your yoo-ish ancestors. I worried you were not happy because we did not have ceremonies like your people. So I have had help putting this together." His expression grows slightly worried. "Have I done wrong?"
"No, no," I say, and hot tears threaten. This might be the nicest thing anyone's ever done for me. "This is lovely, babe. So lovely."
He gestures at the cup in my hands, waiting.
I laugh, set the bag on the floor, and stomp it with my snow-damp boot. It doesn't crack as well as glass does, but I don't care. I only have eyes for my sweet, thoughtful mate who wanted to give me a proper Jewish wedding, ice planet style.
After we smash the cups, Dagesh takes my hands and says sweet, loving things to me that I suspect are supposed to be his vows. He circles around me seven times, and I don't have the heart to point out that in a Jewish ceremony, the bride is the one that circles the groom. It's the thought that counts, and I love how much effort he's put into this. Once our little ceremony is over, we're grabbed by the tribe and hauled onto stools that are hefted into the air. The drums start, and then we're carried around the cave, laughing, by the hunters of the tribe. Everyone looks thrilled—well, except Haeden, who looks like he was born with a burr up his backside.
The dancing turns into drinking and eating, and Dagesh insists on doing everything for me. He makes me a plate of food and fills my cup with sah-sah, which I have to turn down due to my pregnancy. He is a little crestfallen at that, but it's quickly replaced with tea. "With no white roots," he tells me proudly, as if that is supposed to mean something specific to me.
All around us, everyone is eating and drinking. People come up to me and shout “mazel tov” in my face, and it's so funny to see the sa-khui get so into the celebration. A lot of them have no idea what they're saying, but they say it with such glee that it's adorable. The women in the tribe kiss me on the cheek and give me small presents—from tea to roots to a pair of small, carved hoops for my ears.
"I feel a little guilty," I confess to Georgie as she brings her gift of a few tallow candles. "No one else had a wedding and now I'm having an enormous one."
"No one else wanted one," Georgie says, waving aside my concerns. "Dagesh told us all about how upset you were about not having a proper Jewish wedding, and well, the rest of us aren't Jewish, but we did what we could. I hope it's okay?" She gives me a searching look. "We want you to be happy here. All of us, of course, but especially your mate."
I look over at Dagesh, who hasn't left my side since the moment I stepped into the cave. He's got an intense look on his face, as if he's searching my eyes for some sort of answer. I reach out and squeeze his hand, and smile at Georgie.
I don't know where they got the idea that I wanted a big Jewish wedding. It's incredibly sweet of them, but I've always been a bit of a bad Jew. I'm terrible at observing the Sabbath, and while I've always stuck to kosher, that's a lot harder to do here in our current situation. I figure the Almighty will understand.
But I never expected to have a big Jewish wedding back home, much less one here. And yet…somehow Dagesh got the idea in his head that I did? I wonder who told him that…because it wasn't me.
It's a conversation for later, though, when we're in private. For now, I smile and laugh with the others, and look like I'm having a wonderful time. I am. I'm so thankful and pleased with how much thought everyone has put into this. I feel like the entire tribe has welcomed me all over again, and I'm on the verge of tears with how lucky I feel to have this big ice planet family.
I hug everyone.
I eat so much feast food that I bloat up.
I hold Dagesh's hand the entire time.
And when the hunters are drunk on sah-sah and want to get us up on the stools to carry around the cave again, I put my foot down. I don't trust them not to accidentally dunk us into the pool at the center of the cave. "I'm going to take my mate and we're going to have our wedding night," I tell them, giving my leather veil a flick.
Harrec and Hassen look fascinated. They exchange a look. "Does something different happen on a wedding night?"
"Wouldn't you both like to know?" I grab Dagesh by the arm, link my hands in his, and drag him towards our cave.
"We would like to know," Harrec calls after us. "That is why we asked."
"He is drunk," Dagesh tells me, chuckling. "But I would like to know."
"You already know," I point out, leading him to our cave. "But I'm open for another demonstration if you like."
"I always like touching you," he tells me, following eagerly behind. We duck into our cave, and before anyone can follow us, Dagesh puts up the privacy screen. In the distance, I can hear the thwarted groans of Harrec and Hassen. I snort with amusement. As if I'd demonstrate for them. No thanks. I love the tribe, but I don't love them that much.
Dagesh pulls me into his arms the moment the screen is up, kissing me. I wrap my arms around him, leaning back into the kiss. He always has to hunch over to kiss me like this, and for some reason, I find it endearingly sweet. Do I wish he'd pull on my hair? Sure. But if he doesn't…I still adore him. His mouth is hungry on mine, and he pulls the leather veil off my head, then lifts his face to study mine. "Was it everything you wanted?"
"The ceremony was absolutely lovely," I tell him with a smile. "I feel twice as mated to you."
"And it was…what you wanted?" The look he gives me is searching.
Since he brought it up… "Dagesh, it was a gorgeous ceremony and it made me happy to feel so loved and have everyone celebrating our union. Where did you get the idea that I wanted a Jewish wedding, though?" I smile to take the sting out of my words. I don't want to sound accusing, because it was a lovely, thoughtful gesture. It's just that I don't talk religion with my mate. It's always been personal to me, and they don't have the same belief systems we do here. I'm not sure they have much of one at all, other than they join with the universe after death or something.
Dagesh doesn't know anything about being Jewish. Or weddings. I'm just curious who filled his head with the idea that I needed one.
He searches my face. "I want you to be happy with me."
"I am happy—"
"No," my mate says. "You have said before that there is something that holds you back. Something you need. I think it is this yoo-ish wedding, and so I ask others to help me make you happy." He takes my hands and brings them to his mouth, kissing my knuckles. "I can feel it when we are together, in the furs. You draw away from me in your mind. Is it because we were not mated properly in the eyes of your people?"
Oh boy. We had this conversation once and he made me feel like a degenerate for even asking for more in bed. But if he's noticed that I'm not as…into sex as he is, we need to have the conversation at some point. I steel myself for a moment, taking a deep breath, and then speak. "Dagesh, baby, when I said I wanted something you couldn't give me…I didn't mean a wedding."
"What was it, then?" He looks crushed. Absolutely crushed that he went to so much effort only for it to not be what I needed.
I feel like such an ass. I pull my hands from his, pacing. "It's just…something in bed." How do I explain this without sending my poor alien mate running for the hills? I think for a moment. "You know how with the trail cakes? How some people really like the food super, super spicy and others like them…uh, not spicy?"
I wanted to say “bland” or “normal,” but those two words would have such bad connotations in this conversation.
He watches me intently, and nods. "Humans do not like the spice that sa-khui tongues do."
"Right. Okay. Now let's take that thought and apply it to sex. Some people like it…spicy." I give him an encouraging look.
Dagesh blinks. "You want food when we mate?"
Oh yeah, this is going so great. "No. Babe. I'm saying that I need a little something…more when we have sex. Something that maybe the others don't when they have sex. For it to be what I need, it has to be…more."
"More what?"
I bite my lip, because I know he won't understand. Best to just rip the band-aid off quickly. "I need you to hurt me."
His eyes widen and he looks slightly aghast, just like he did when he bruised me before and I loved it. "You what?"
"I like rough sex," I say bluntly. "I'm fine with regular, vanilla sex, but…it's just okay for me. It doesn't hit all the cravings I have. It's just…nice." I'm on the verge of tears, because it feels as if I'm stabbing my sweet, wonderful mate in the heart. "It's not your fault, babe. I mean it when I say it's not your fault. It's just that…for me to truly, truly get off, I need you to be rougher with me."
Dagesh looks at me with wounded eyes. "You want me to harm you?"
"I know," I say dully. "You don't do that. It's wrong of me to even ask you. It's not your thing. But…you asked what I needed. And…it's not a wedding."
"You need me to…make you suffer." He says the words as if he's the one suffering.
I shake my head. "It's…it's not like that. It's a kink. Some people like sex from behind. I like my hair pulled or my ass slapped or when you get really rough with me. It's not that I want to be in pain. It's just…it's hard to describe when you look at me like that." A hot tear slips down my cheek. I feel so stupidly exposed and yet I know I'm doing him a disservice, because I'm having a difficult time talking about it. "I don't know how to make you understand."
"My No-rah," Dagesh says in a soft voice. "You have my heart. I have never been so happy in my life as I have been in these last hands of days when we mated. But I cannot hurt you. It goes against everything that I am."
"I know," I say sadly. "Trust me, you already made that really clear. I'm trying to be happy without it. I really am." I smile brightly at him. "It's just sex, right? It doesn't change how I feel about you. That's why I didn't say anything. And I was hoping that maybe in time, I wouldn't need that feeling anymore."
"But you still need it now?" he asks.
I think. Do I? I imagine my mate shoving me down into the furs and holding me down as he fucks me roughly, and it sends a hot tremor through me. Oh yeah. I still need it. I nod.
Dagesh runs a hand down his face. "I…I must think."
"It's okay if you can't give me what I need," I tell him softly. "Not everyone likes that kind of thing." In the past, if I was dating someone that wasn't into what I wanted, we'd just go our separate ways. We'd break up when the sex was no longer doing it for either one of us, and that would be the end of it. But I've never felt for anyone like I feel for Dagesh. I've never wanted someone to change in bed for me.
And I want it now, and that's wrong. I know it's wrong. So I say nothing, because what is there to say?
Dagesh watches me, his heart in his eyes. He rubs his face again, then turns and leaves our cave, pulling the screen behind him once more. Giving me privacy. I know he needs to think about what I've told him. I know he needs to process it.
It still hurts, though.