Chapter 19
Hattie
A jaguar. Tuvo had hunted a jaguar.
And now, after cutting away all the fat from the skin, he was using stakes he had carved driven into the ground to stretch it in the sunlight to dry. He was preserving the skin! Of a wild jaguar that he had killed when it tried to eat him!
And Hattie was nearly dizzy with need from having watched it.
She was just a red-blooded woman. She couldn’t watch something so primal and brutal and powerful and not feel it deep inside. It was a part of her that wasn’t made for this modern world, and it had a grip tight on her sex.
Strong male. Strong mate. Make strong babies.
Independent, modern woman who?
She had to somehow cook food on an open fire as she tried not to stare at her bloodied and scarred beast mate as he staked out the jaguar he had killed and skinned while her pussy clenched desperately on nothing.
She needed him so badly right now. Keith was saying something, but she couldn’t hear him. Her eyes were zeroed in on Tuvo’s ass and flicking tail as he looked over the skin.
Strong mate should be rewarded for defending and feeding her.
“Yo!”
Snapping fingers right in her face made her jump and look over. Keith was crouched down, giving her an incredulous look.
“What?” She asked, thighs shifting together.
“What? What do you mean what? You’ve been moving your knife in the same spot for like five minutes now.”
She looked down at the jaguar flank she had been cutting. The meat was kind of similar to pork or chicken. She had been dicing it for their stew.
Or, rather, she had been moving her knife in a cutting motion between two pieces of meat that she had long ago split apart.
Her cutting board was a door from a cupboard resting on a rock dragged near the fire.
The knife was the alien one she had brought with her.
The one with a super sharp blade that didn’t dull.
And she had cut multiple slashes into the wood while staring at Tuvo.
“Seriously?” Keith gave her a dull look.
“What?” She frowned, readjusting the jaguar meat.
“He killed a wild cat, Hattie, and you’re looking at him like he’s a honey bun.”
She wouldn’t mind taking a bite of those honey buns.
Wow, she had it bad right now. Would he mind climbing another tree with her?
She wanted her male. She could barely take her eyes off him. She couldn’t take her thoughts off him. Keith tried to gripe at her some more, but he had to give up when she just kept staring at Tuvo working to preserve his skin.
He gathered together all the parts she couldn’t use – along with the monkey parts that must have originally attracted the jaguar’s attention – and took them away to dispose of. The space finally allowed her to finish adding the meat to the stew pot she had hanging over the fire.
Tuvo returned with the roots and mushrooms she had requested, and she cleaned and cut them up as he watched.
Well, she tried. But his gaze was making her shaky and needy, and she very nearly cut herself with the knife. It only took two near accidents for Tuvo to take the blade from her and finish the cutting job himself.
That didn’t help because, again, he was looking out for her.
And now he was crouched down in front of her improvised cutting board, the muscles in his forearms clenching with each cut.
He was confident with the knife, but his cutting skills were rudimentary.
He was just cubing them into uneven pieces.
It was unbelievably sexy.
She stayed beside him. Shifting her weight. Staring at him hungrily. He had moved on from the meat and was now slicing the mushrooms. Then, the roots. His big hands scooped them all in one smooth motion and tossed them into the pot.
She didn’t realize she had whimpered until he turned to her.
He looked surprised, but it passed quickly. His own gaze darkened before he returned to cutting the last of the mushrooms.
The slices got messier and bigger as he rushed through the chore. She didn’t care. The food could burn at this point.
“Tuvo,” she whined, shifting her thighs again. Desperate for the friction. “Please.”
He didn’t even bother to finish. He scooped up the remainder and the uneven pieces and tossed them into the pot – half missing entirely.
Neither of them cared.
Hattie was already reaching for him as he grabbed her by the hand and took her to the same tree they had climbed the other night. He put her on her back and did it again.
She couldn’t resist kissing along the slope of his neck. The flexing of his muscles as he carried her up with only stroking her fire further.
At this moment, she didn’t care that they were both dirty and had only managed to take quick rag baths in days. She didn’t care that he was all cut up from jaguar claws – that actually made it better. She was eager to feel him under her, to kiss and bite his neck until he growled.
They didn’t end up sitting on the lowest branch this time. He stepped onto it, pulled her off him and, in one smooth motion, swung her around until her back was pressed against the tree and he was between her legs, kissing her desperately.
She moaned, rocking her hips against his abs. The hard lines of his muscles were a great grinding toy, but she wanted more.
She wanted him to take her against this tree.
“Please,” she begged, sad because their pelvises didn’t line up in this position.
Tuvo released one of her legs. Even if she let it drop, she wouldn’t be able to balance on the branch herself. Instead, she balanced her foot against his thigh that he pushed forward, offering it to use as a stool.
It allowed her legs to spread, giving him room for his now free hand to grab desperately at her jeans, breaking the button and ripping open the zipper so he could shove his hand under the hem. She whined, sad he wasn’t pulling them off of her.
But she couldn’t hold that thought in her head when he homed in on her clit like it had a tracking beacon.
She grabbed onto his shoulders, pelvis canted back. Her jeans slipping off her hips, giving him more room for his quickly flicking finger to bring her to a harsh, immediate orgasm that had her voice cracking as her eyes rolled back in her head.
But it wasn’t enough. It wasn’t a relief. She needed more. She needed him inside her.
“Tuvo,” She pleaded, hips shaking.
“I got you,” he promised.
His other arm adjusted her leg, hooking it over his elbow, pulling her jeans down a bit further before the spread of her legs stopped them.
Opening her to his finger thrusting inside.
She gasped, head falling back. Even just one finger was so thick.
Almost big enough to emulate a cock on its own.
He worked it in and out rapidly, grinding his palm against her clit, the wet sucking sounds of her hole making her face burn even as she craved more.
His finger was big, but it wasn’t what she wanted.
“Take me, please,” she begged, pussy clenching hungrily around that finger. Loving the way it filled her but knowing that it wasn’t all she could have. She wanted to be stretched. She wanted to be sore. She wanted his cock inside her now!
But that wasn’t what she got. Instead, Tuvo pulled his finger almost all the way out. She cried in dismay, only to have her voice stolen when she felt more pressure at her entrance. Tuvo growled, pressing forward determinedly.
And one finger didn’t feel like a stretch, but two certainly did.
Hattie laughed, breathless and relieved, as he pounded her. Curling them up to press along her G-spot. Still hitting her clit with his palm. Playing her body like a fiddle.
His fingers spread apart, and the pressure broke her. She shattered with a cry, the relief of a proper orgasm drowning her in pleasure.
But it still wasn’t complete, because it wasn’t his cock. It wasn’t his knot plugging her entrance. It wasn’t his seed filling her up and breeding her properly.
As her breathing evened, Tuvo lowered her legs back to the branch. She let him. Not fighting. Not trying anything. Until he released her, then she grabbed for him.
He made a sound of protest, but her fingers had already pulled the button free on his jeans. Her height was an advantage this time.
“Hattie, wait-”
He took hold of her shoulders. Too late, she had his zipper down and had yanked on them and his boxers just enough for his cock to burst forth. A hammer that nearly smacked her in the chest as it broke free.
Tuvo groaned, hands still on her shoulders, teeth bared, but he didn’t push her away.
Hattie bit her lip excitedly as she took hold of the monster that greeted her, making a soft sound of sympathy as her hand stroked up slowly.
“Aw, poor Tuvo,” she whimpered. “This looks so painful, sweetie. Let me help you with this.”
He growled, hips jerking against her grip.
His cock had taken on the dusty, dingy gray-blue of the jeans he wore, but the triangular, slightly pointed head was dark, almost black – angry and throbbing and neglected.
Coming off the head were a series of ridges that made a triangular shape pointing back towards his groin.
There were a lot of them, almost reaching halfway down the long, thick shaft that was thickest in the middle. All leading to his knot.
The rounded, turgid flesh at the base of his cock, resting right above his taught, heavy sac, was darker than the thick head. She could see the veins popping out around the bulb. They pounded three times with each beat of his heart. Angry and ignored.
It must be painful. Such a shame when she was happy to help.
A shuddered breath left her mouth when she began to stroke. First with one hand, then with both when it became apparent that she needed extra strength. His cock defied gravity, pointing directly at her despite its hefty weight. The slit began leaking thick, creamy pre-cum.
Not just a drop, either. A steady stream. It flowed down the head and began to drip until she tilted the shaft up until it trailed over her fingers.
The sight did something to her she didn’t expect. She was simultaneously hungry and horny again. The size of his cock was intimidating, but, she reasoned, he wasn’t as thick as a baby. It might take some practice, but she was determined to take this.
For now, however, she used the wetness of his own pre-cum to quickly jerk him off with both hands, pointing the head right at her tits. Eager. Determined.
It didn’t take long.
Tuvo came with a roar, his entire body locking up.
The cords in his neck standing out as his abdomen tensed and twitched.
His sac lifted and throbbed – her only warning before he came.
Giving her just enough time for one of her hands to grab his knot and squeeze.
Trying to emulate how it would feel buried inside her.
She was rewarded with a full load. Blasting right against her neck, her chest. Thick, creamy ropes of white seed coated her. The first burst reached up high enough to hit her lower lip and she licked at it reflexively. Moaning. He tasted like hazelnut spread. Rich and creamy and tasty.
He started to collapse forward, catching himself on the tree with one hand as he continued to unload against her. So much. All for her.
Oh, her poor male. He must have been so neglected.
Hattie smiled as she slowly stroked him until he finished coming. Her fingers, her body, were messy and warm and wet, but she loved it.
His knot was softer now, but it still looked angry. He was still hard.
She was quite eager to keep going, to drain him dry, but he stepped back, pulling from her hands with a slick slide of skin on skin.
“Aw,” she pouted.
Tuvo was staring at her. Eyes dark. Fingers twitching.
“Waste,” he growled.
Confused, a bit hurt, she tilted her head.
He reached for her, for the cum splashed over her chest. And began to rub it into her. Spreading him over her skin. Marking her.
Ah. A waste.
Now that she understood, she couldn’t help but agree. This belonged inside her. She should be dripping him for days as his seed swam within her womb, waiting for an egg to drop.
Hattie didn’t even realize she closed her eyes and leaned into his touch until he pulled his hand away. Her lids opened again, and she watched, regretfully, as he tucked himself back in his pants. She pouted.
“We should get back down so you can… clean off,” he said, growling as he finished the sentence reluctantly.
“Er, yeah,” she breathed, running her fingers over her chest. It was ridiculous, but she didn’t want to wash away his cum. Not when that was the first time she felt like he had claimed her.
But she didn’t fight when he turned so she could climb on his back, and he could return her to the plane.
She didn’t want to, but she gave herself another rag bath and changed into a new pair of jeans and shirt.
In the time she had been gone, Keith had set up the single person tent – a tiny thing he probably had to curl up inside of since it wasn’t long enough to lay in. He was sitting inside it, the flap unzipped, and he gave her a judgmental look that she ignored as she returned to the stew.
She was even more aware of Tuvo now than she had been before. Her entire body cried out for him as he sat nearby, watching as she stirred their dinner.