Daughter of Ziva

Hey all.

So I've been through the ringer with publishing on this site, I'm not going to lie. Some of you may have seen the second chapter was edited to show the edits I submitted for the first chapter, so I for a bit I had two chapter ones. I decided not to post this story until it was fixed, and that was incredibly frustrating because it was ready to go. Maybe I'm doing something wrong, but I can't figure it out. Anyway, sorry for the wait. Chapter 4 is coming asap!

Something I forgot to mention was that there was going to be some BDSM aspects in this story. I'm sure that started to become clear in the last chapter, but it is even more so in this chapter. Just so you know what you're getting into.

I am in love with comments you're leaving. Thank you so much for taking the time and I hope this is to your liking :)

xxx

Rorik stalked through the woods, a wooden bucket in each of his fists. The quiet tinkle of a stream guided him through the tall aspens, his mind back in his dark tent. He could still hear the quiet gasps between the winces of pain. The brief view of her perfect breasts in the warm firelight arose every time he closed his eyes.

He had spent the morning with Casmir, taking stock of what supplies they had and what they would need to have a successful return journey. They had walked the camp and spoke with the men that hadn't left with the hunting party. Every time he had passed his tent, the tiny thing that was tied up on his bed silently called to him to finish what he had started last night. Rorik had missed much of the conversations with his men, his thoughts drifting to the mix of pain and pleasure flitting across her face, her thick hair messing itself on the wood behind her head.

Eventually he had excused himself, knowing that pretending to listen was doing no one any sort of good, and grabbed some empty water buckets. He needed something to do while he worked out what it was about her that had his focus skewed.

Yesterday Sergei had looked over her as she slept, giving a frown that Rorik knew would have been directed towards him if he hadn't been Sergei's superior. Keeping his look to himself was wise. Sergei was a man in his fifties with graying hair and a working man's build, but his passion was healing people. Rorik's passion was the exact opposite, and he had spent 30 some years training for it.

"She didn't wake up when I pressed on her ribs, so they aren't broken," Sergei had told him. "She has no internal bleeding from what I can see, but her bruising will be extensive. I've seen abdominal trauma before, and what helped them was keeping mobile. Walking when not sleeping, doing breathing exercises to keep her lungs clear." Sergei gave him a look out of the side of his eye and added, "Avoiding strenuous activity, at least until she can move without help, is advisable where possible. Sir." Rorik tucked his irritation at being

advised

away and nodded, dismissing the healer. Sergei, understanding he had toed a line, had dipped his head and left.

Last night he had gone in with no intention of touching her more than necessary. Rorik had a plan to scare and humiliate her with the aim of starting the process of her submission to the Gavali, knowing he would have plenty of time to sink deep inside her once she healed. The horses' kick had been right above where a baby would grow and Rorik didn't want to fuck up any chance of her being fertile. Seeing her blush and whimper as he cut her clothes off her was going to be satisfactory enough for the time being.

The moment his knuckles had touched her warm cleft, that plan had disappeared like mist at the bottom of a waterfall. It had been intentional, his hand pressed up against her as he held the shredded pants in his fist. He had wanted her to feel his invasion of her space and to take a step towards accepting her body wasn't hers anymore. She had breathed in, her chin tilting up and her mouth parting. And then he used the knife to toy with her clit, and a true gasp soared past her lips as her eyes shot open.

Rorik saw it all. The confusion and shock in her eyes as her brow pinched in, arousal flaring under it all. He gorged himself on it, just stopping from shaking his head. There weren't many things a man couldn't use to provoke pleasure from the female form if it was used correctly. Of the women he had used his methods on though, none had such little shame showing him how everything he did made them feel. Did she know he could see her lack of shame? Did she know he could see her lack of fear, even though it was a knife drawing her pleasure out from her? Even though moments ago she had thought he was going to shove his knife inside her?

There was pain in her face too, and he knew he was pushing it, but her starving body clutched onto every inch of rapture he forced on her. As her pleasure rose, so did her pain, her whimpers and twinges more prominent. Rorik had bit out an ultimatum, a very small voice reminding him that her body could help save the Gavali from dwindling into nothing in a generation.

In his mind's eye, he could see her puffy lips through the damp fabric, the soft curls gracing her sex. Rorik had to tear his stare away from the wet patch his knuckles drew from her, absolutely entranced with how responsive the girl was. He had threatened to rape her until she was raw and he was exhausted, his threat a demand that she give him her name so he could stop.

The little slut had

moaned

. The wanton, high-pitched vibration she had caught in her throat had travelled straight into his tightening balls. He had told himself that was it. She didn't care about her pain and neither did he. He would dole out the punishment she so obviously wanted. He'd fuck the submission he wanted out of her.

His fingertip had dipped into that beautiful pool between her legs and he had felt a ferocity tearing at his chest, opening something up that wasn't meant to be put away until it had claimed the quivering body before him and sated itself fully.

Then she had screamed her name.

Rorik's fingers had twitched, ready to sink into her tight, silky heat, and continue on ravaging her anyway. He had been so, so close to spending the night thrusting into her tight, wet body, not stopping until he left her devastated. If it had been ten years ago, he would have done it without a second thought, but in his decade-long search for the solution to his people's problem he had learned patience. The lesson hadn't been easy, and this one sure as hell wasn't, but he knew patient and decisive thinking was absolutely necessary in order to come out the victor.

Caging himself back into the controlled warlord he needed to be was a monumental effort, but he did it. If he extinguished her chance at giving birth and she ended up being the only Daughter of Ziva they found on this stretch of land, he would never forgive himself. Who would he be to tell his men to be disciplined if he followed wherever his cock led?

Sienna had the fucking audacity to finally look ashamed as he cut her clothes off. Rorik barely took a moment to appreciate her svelte curves as he threw her to her side. Angry at both himself and the girl in front of him, he had told her his name and the way he intended her to use it. She started crying as a thrill of desire rocked down her body, only leaving him angrier with his cock pulsing. He had pressed his length in between her ass cheeks, hoping if anything at all would be achieved, she would understand that her body was not hers.

Son of a bitch

, he cursed to himself, arriving at the stream. He stepped into the freezing water, feeling it lapping at his ankles. He focused on the pricks in his feet the cold water created and allowed the soft sounds of the stream to roll through him. He rolled his shoulders and took a deep breath as he filled the buckets.

Rorik had a moment of weakness. He had forgotten his duty to his clan and everything he had ever worked for and instead, for those few moments, had thought only of himself. He hadn't acted on his desires, but how close he had been to relinquishing his control was not ideal.

Whether it was her reactions or his lack of recent female companionship that caused his cock to stir so readily, it was clear this girl was going to be provoking his desires beyond his normal standards. He needed to recognize that he had a very clear preference for dark haired, lithe women whose bodies called to be held down and fucked. It didn't matter how much he wanted to sink into her and show her how much she needed his authority and control. Rorik needed to acknowledge his tremendous and unusual need had to take a back seat for the betterment of his clan.

It was a check to his ego, having to remind himself that his domination of her needed to be much more than just physical, but it was necessary. His men deserved more than the blank face he had offered them today.

Rorik hadn't broken a woman for the Gavali in a while, his obsession with finding the rest of the Daughters taking nearly all of his time, but he remembered what needed to be done. Every one of her needs had to be fulfilled through him. A woman growing to understand her place was a beautiful thing, and something he thoroughly enjoyed doing when the task fell to him. What each woman needed to acknowledge that she was at her best when serving the Gavali was different, and he knew Sienna's body would be his ticket in if he could keep himself in check.

Rorik despised admitting that he had encountered a possible shortcoming, but it brought to mind words his Chief had told him during his lessons when he was young. "Understanding your own weaknesses is the first step to conquering them." And conquer Sienna he would.

With the speed of a man who had stolen, maimed, and killed to get everything he wanted, his bruised ego was gone and the challenge of overcoming his needs while gaining Sienna's submission had his testosterone buzzing. Rorik didn't lose, and this time would be no different.

xxx

Sienna had been awake for hours now, her throat dry and her stomach rumbling under the soreness. She had stayed laying on her back, which she had been in the middle of rolling to when she had gained consciousness. It had been a painful awakening. Any more movement was still impossible without being left in tears.

The bright spot on the tent canvas had moved from one side of the tent top to the other, and still she was left alone. It had to be mid-afternoon by now.

Her mood was absolutely dismal. She was uncomfortable, her naked skin sensitive against the soft blanket he had left her with. The furs smelled like Rorik and the tent was too hot for her liking. Her bound hands were sweaty and the rope was irritating, and her foot was tied so close to the stake she couldn't shift to stretch her leg. Sienna had a lot more give when she had fallen asleep, so her guess was he had tied her closer while she slept.

There were male voices everywhere, all involved in a flurry of activities to run the camp and prepare their ship. None of them lowered their voices to try and hide their plans or conversations from her ears. From what she gathered, half of them would be leaving with a couple of women to go back to their homeland. The rest would be staying here, corralling her people to wait for the Gavali Chief and the rest of the clan to return. A bitter voice inside her said she hoped they did come. She hoped they brought every single one of their godforsaken people and they starved to death on the land that seemed to be emptying itself in preparation for their arrival. Wouldn't that be a beautiful bit of irony?

Chewing the dry skin off her lips, she sighed, her chest panging as her thoughts slipped back to last night. Repeating the events in her head had worked in filling her with a rooted fury that was as close to hate as she had ever felt, but without him being near she had no one to act out towards. Hating him while she was alone was not working - that transitioned quickly into disgust towards whatever part of her had liked what he had done.

Sienna did not have the mental energy to dig into why she liked him touching her so much - she had tried and just started crying, humiliated. So instead, she had worked on accepting her reaction as it was. Yasim had always taught that to be a good hunter and a better fighter, accepting things as they were helped the mind be at ease and in the moment. It had helped Sienna through the all of the awful weather she had hunted through. The exercise had even helped her get the upper hand while sparring with Yasim a couple of times. The latter may have been simply chance though.

That task had taken her a couple hours in between sniffling and muttering angrily, and still she was left feeling incredibly uneasy with it. Sienna had then shifted her focus once more, trying to only accept that he would be touching her without her consent. Accepting that had been much easier. It had given her an understanding of what was going to be happening and a person to hate while she was stuck here.

In the time that she wasn't trying to prepare to survive her time as Rorik's captive, Sienna was thinking about her people. How was her Grandma handling leaving her home? Had they walked through the night like Yasim had told them too? Were they rationing food? How were the little ones? The worst one she always came back to was, had they been caught?

The village had never really had an escape plan. The 13 women fleeing over a body of water so big seasons had passed trying to cross it had been their escape plan. The escaping was supposed to be over. Her Grandma and her kin were supposed to live in peace and now they were fleeing to escape slavery and death. Hopefully, Mama was keeping everyone calm. She always had a talent for that.

Sienna knew she had unintentionally switched from calling her Mother to Mama, but it comforted her, so she stuck with it. Typically, Sienna had only called her Mama when she needed something, to tug at the heartstrings of the older woman. In rarer times, she called her Mama when the two were feeling close. She prayed she could escape to call her Mama as many times as she could.

This time she didn't catch that Rorik was approaching. There had been people passing the tent all day, and though she had been on edge waiting for the first hour, the hours after that she had drifted in and out of herself, more detached than she probably should have been. Not like being on guard would have done anything, she could barely move.

His form swept through the tent flaps, sending fresh air floating past her face. Sienna inhaled greedily. In one hand he held a wooden bowl and in the other, he held two buckets, the sound of splashing water drawing her attention. Sienna cautioned herself not to look too interested, not wanting to give him anything to hold over her. Again, he didn't look at her as he took his teenaged-sized hammer off his back and put it across the tent from her. She noticed he kept his blasted dagger buckled to his hip.

The sight of Rorik in broad daylight was unnerving. He had blonde whiskers on his jaw and a slight flush across his cheeks that told him he had been exerting himself. He had a small spattering of hairs under his collarbone that were so light she hadn't seen them until he had turned to the side. His nose was slightly crooked and Sienna took pleasure in knowing someone had broken it at one point. Everything about him made her furious.

"Hello Sienna," he said. His tone was gruff, but not angry, as he moved about.

She said nothing, glaring at him from her position on the bed. Oh, how badly she wanted to sit up. His big hands scooped a cup into the bucket and he walked towards her, that bowl still in his hands. The smell of food hit her nose and her stomach growled in response.

His blue eyes scanned over her and fear that dropped down to her gut. Rorik had a look that she had never seen before, and perhaps that was what unsettled her most about him. His eyes made her feel like she did when the forest got too quiet, hushing to hide from a predator. When her eyes met his, her instincts screamed,

Run

.

He put the food and water on top of the trunk behind her and, as he kneeled, ripped off her blanket. Sienna's automatic reaction was to twist to hide her nakedness and the jerk she made left her groaning. She heard a snip and her ankle was free from the stake.

His lips twisted into a smirk as he sheathed the knife. "Don't hide on my behalf, I've seen it all before."

Fury twisted her insides. "Go fuck yourself," Sienna snapped. His smirk turned dark. Her feet dug into the ground to push herself away from him, not liking what might follow.

She got nowhere. Rorik kneeled and grabbed a handful of her hair, his fingers tight up against her scalp. She gritted her teeth as he wrenched her head back.

"Why don't you sit up?" He asked quietly. Stupidly, Sienna opened her mouth to give him the truth she thought he wanted: she hurt too much. The words turned into an agonized screech as he lifted her to a sitting position with his grip on her hair.

Sienna cried out. Her stomach screamed in protest, then throbbed in the wakes of her movement. "Feet under your ass," he snapped. When she didn't move due to lack of places to balance on, he pulled up with his fist. Sienna howled as she whipped her feet under her butt. The lifting stopped and she dropped onto her heels. The painful grip on her hair stayed.

Gasping, trying to ride out the tenderness in her body, she had nowhere to go as his free hand started softly tracing circles on her neck. With one hand tightly gripping her hair and the other drawing small, gentle patterns on her throat, he had her completely focused on him as the pain in her muscles calmed enough for her to breathe.

His voice was close but above her. This always-being-above-her was a pattern Sienna was not enjoying.

"Sienna, you and I need to come to an understanding. And what I mean by that is you have some things to learn." His drawing finger dipped to her collarbone, drawing her attention. He scared the shit out of her. "You are no longer a free woman. You have been claimed, wholly, by the Gavali."

The pad of his finger distracted her as it slid down further, now playing with the tops of her breasts. Her skin rippled, goosebumps raising across her chest.

"Stop-"

Fingers tightened in her hair, cutting her off. He continued as if she hadn't spoken. "What this means is that, for now, I own you. Everything that goes in and out of this rather durable body of yours will do so because I willed it."

Terrified, Sienna forced herself to snap, "Let me go!"

He wrenched her head back again. "Shut up."

Sienna bit her lips together, her throat stretched to the point of limiting her breathing. She was trying to hide her winces arising from her bodies throbs and his tight grip on her hair, all the while trying to breathe slow enough to allow air through her tightened airway. She had never been overwhelmed so quickly. Everything was moving too fast.

His finger moved to drag along the sensitive undersides of her mounds, his short nail creating a sharper, more centralized sensation as his finger went round. Her nipples were hot and tingling as they peaked. "You will speak only when told to." The fingers swirled back and forth across the skin under her breasts, itching ever upwards. His tug on her head went forwards now, so she was facing him. "You will eat and drink only when I see fit."

Sienna wanted to tell him how many ways he would fail in owning her, but her words stopped in her throat. She hated it, but fear shredded the words in her throat. He was scary, yes, but Sienna had done many scary things in her life. But she knew this was different. The man was already touching her naked body without her permission. What would happen if she continued to fight?