Chapter 8
Tiffany propped her elbows on the counter as she watched Barbasa work a loaf between his hands, her admiration growing rapidly in the days since he had first taken her out into the woods and shared every secret he could think of.
Since then, they had gone out every day while processing their harvest to gather even more nuts for the next batch or gathering wild berries to eat, and she basked in his attention, soaking up his every word.
It perhaps was due in part because she didn’t see him for long stretches of the day, but it was also because he made every moment a new adventure between them that she missed when she was cooped up in the cabin alone.
Oh, she knew she could venture out by herself safely, but when she tried it hadn’t quite felt the same.
She never ventured farther than a brief stroll before returning to the cabin to wait.
But she didn’t complain either since she got the idea that he was often vigilantly roaming his forest anyway during this time, ensuring the safety of their home there, and she had the dire wolves for company who were always eager to crowd around her whenever she sat on the porch.
Dinix even followed her inside the cabin from time to time to cuddle with her so long as she kept the door open to come and go as he liked.
In the end, she didn’t mind being alone in the cabin since she felt perfectly safe, but it was getting a bit boring outside of their daily excursions with Barbasa.
It seemed that she not only looked forward to their time together but that she was also becoming a bit dependent on it...
something which would have alarmed her just a few days ago.
To her surprise, despite his poorly disguised leering and frequent extruding at random times to tempt with her the glimpse of a cock that seemed to verge on scarily large, she was comfortable in his company.
Oh, she had no doubt that he desired her—it was pretty hard for her to ignore, although Barbasa seemed to be able to overlook the presence of his erect cock as if it wasn’t staring back at her—but he wasn’t aggressively pushing her toward anything.
He was just very blatant about his interest and made no effort to hide it.
Not even when he eventually curled around her as they lay together at night and the hard, hot length pressed firmly against her bottom.
Every twitch of it against her never failed to send hot currents deep into her belly to the point that it was leaving her with a restless feeling throughout the day.
It was getting to the point where she was beginning to wish that he would make a move.
Even if his dick frightened her a little, there was an ache growing slowly within her, one that she shouldn’t indulge in since she wasn’t staying.
Barbasa’s offer, as generous as it had been, was only a temporary one.
Which was probably the reason he good-naturedly tolerated the little adjustments she made to the cabin in his absence.
The table she sat at was one of them.
She’d found it pushed into one corner with a heavy layer of dust and covered with a bunch of old crap that she was sure had been there since a good two or three decades before the Ravening.
It had taken her most of that afternoon to haul the heavy tarps and pieces of some sort of machinery that appeared to be some kind of engine off it.
Hunting down a cleanser had taken her a bit longer.
Water and regular soap had been close to ineffectual.
It wasn’t until she spotted a small shed just off to the side of the cabin and went to explore its contents that she found exactly what she was looking for.
That was, once she got past the gruesome sight of numerous metal traps, long hooks hanging from the ceiling, and a butchery table stained so thoroughly with old blood that her stomach turned.
As there was a bucket of water sitting next to it, she knew that Barbasa utilized it and the clean hooks closest to it even if he touched none of the other dust coated things within the shed.
Returning to the cabin with the grease cleaner had felt like a small victory, but it proved worth the effort after she hauled the table into a bright spot in front of a window and scrubbed it thoroughly.
It had taken some work, but the old furniture gleamed with the bit of wood polish she’d rubbed sparingly into it.
The wildflowers that she’d gathered had been the final touch.
Sure, it had probably been overkill, especially since they required a cupful of precious water that she got from the barrel of drinking water, but Barbasa had smiled when he saw them.
He did, however, raise an eyebrow at the junk pile that had shifted onto the floor before quietly setting to moving it out of the cabin.
She wasn’t entirely sure where he put everything since the shed hadn’t had too much room as it was, but the cabin felt quite a bit cozier afterward, especially now he was bent over the table, wearing a weathered apron with yellow ducks printed over it, turning out bread dough.
She shook her head in awe as she watched him work.
Acorn bread. Imagine.
That certainly hadn’t occurred to anyone within town, and she couldn’t say why since there were plenty of acorns from trees that grew everywhere in the abandoned areas.
Instead, they struggled with small farm plots to grow wheat, barley, oats and other food staples.
Bread was communally made, baked and divided among those living there with extra portions going to men for doing more of the “hard work,”
and thus needing more of the calories.
Or some such stupidity since she was well aware of how the women worked themselves from morning to night without complaint.
There had been many days that Tiffany had still been hungry following supper and would have been thrilled at having more of the hearty bread available.
And now...
now because of Barbasa’s acorn flour, she had all that she could possibly eat.
She had certainly made quick work of what remained of his first loaf, much to her embarrassment.
Barbasa had been strangely pleased, however, and in result appeared even more committed to feeding her.
In fact, he was making bread that morning instead of going on his usual rounds, much to her private delight.
She certainly didn’t object to watching his powerful hands knead the dough.
He was glorious to watch, even with the ducky apron that added to masculinity in the confidence with which he wore it.
Her gaze drifted over him before returning to the loaf he was fashioning.
“Do you still plan to go out today?”
she asked conversationally.
His yellow eyes flicked to her and a smile tugged at his lips.
“Have you missed me that much?”
he purred in return, drawing a snort of amusement from her.
“I’m not sure how to answer that,”
she teased.
“If I say yes, and obviously flatter you, you will get a big head.
If I say no, you may be crushed and suspect I wish to oust you from your own home and keep it all to myself.”
Eyes dancing mirthfully, his smile widened at her response.
“As for the first, I already have a most impressive head, as you’ve seen for yourself, so there is no harm in appreciating it and flattering it.
Especially that one,”
he added with a meaningful look toward his cock hidden behind his apron, making her choke on an embarrassed laugh.
“As to the second, you can try,”
he rumbled with laughter, “but you will quickly discover that I won’t give up so easily when it comes to what I desire to keep.
But your desire marks the pace of this game.
Do you want me to stay, or do you wish to chase me away and continue this dance longer?”
Those final words were delivered with such directness and intensity that the heat from rushed over her like a living flame.
They were most definitely speaking of more than just the cabin and the possibilities that were arising from this conversation sent a tremor of excitement through her.
“So, what will it be, then?”
he continued in a low purr.
“Do we spend a day together?”
He glanced over at her again as he spoke, one of his dark eyebrows rising with his inquiry.
Despite the directness of his question, she thought she caught a hint of vulnerability in the quick shift of his gaze as he studied the dough, turning it about between his hands an unnecessary number of times as he did so.
Beneath his apron, she could see the stark shadowy outline of his cock pressing against the fabric, speaking volumes of everything he wanted from and with her.
Her awareness of it made heat accumulate low in her belly and warm arousal slipped from her pussy.
Spend a day with him? That warmth continued to crawl through her as her imagination conjured a cozy image within her mind.
They could build up the fire in the hearth and perhaps she could teach him a few games—hell they could both teach each other a few things before the night was out as far as she was concerned.
But she wasn’t going to jump him immediately.
She had some sense of restraint to put into place while they gradually worked their way to more intimate games.
To start with, however, she’d found a faded deck of cards that would serve well enough.
There were a couple missing so it wasn’t quite complete but good enough for a few games.
And from there he would have plenty of opportunities to teach her a few things.
Despite her best effort not to, Tiffany’s cheeks grew hot just as she swore that heat raced through her and erupted within her belly to sink low to the intimate spot between her legs.
Barbasa’s nostrils twitched and flared as he drew in a sharp breath in reaction and the hair prickled along her arms at just how primal that response was as he clearly scented her arousal.
“I would like that,”
she replied though her belly quivered with a sudden nervousness.
His eyelids dropped slightly, and he regarded her through thick, dark lashes from beneath their hoods.
The hard line of his mouth curved in response, and his beautifully sculpted cheek creased with the flash of a dimple.
Though he was distinctly inhuman in appearance from the tip of his horns and the gleam of his glowing eyes, right down to his tuft of a tail and hooves, those parts of him that were like those of a human man were of a breathless beauty.
Captivated, she watched as he stroked his fingers through the bit of beard on his chin, her gaze focusing on his long, elegant but brutal fingers tipped with seemingly dainty black claws.
His horns took on a subtle shine as they caught the sunlight with the curious tip of his head.
That same sunlight brought out the reddish hue within his brown curls that fell over his brow and teased his pointed ears.
“Is there some activity in particular you had in mind, Tiffany,”
he purred.
He drew her name out in such a way that it seemed as if he savored it as the sounds fell elegantly from his lips.
She didn’t think a single person had ever made her name sound so beautiful or erotic before and she was all there for that.
“Tell me,”
he insisted, his purr sinking suddenly into a deep rumble that made her belly clench.
Her extreme attraction to him felt practically insane with how strongly it gripped it without any control or consent on her part.
She was so lost in him and the puzzle of powerful pull toward him that she jumped when he gave the dough a final hard slap before scooping it up and setting it in the pan.
There was a touch of wickedness to the grin he gave her then as if he enjoyed the effect that he had on her.
She blew out a long breath and mentally rolled her eyes.
Of course, he did.
He wasn’t human but he seemed to enjoy a small game of power in his interactions with her.
And she’d noted early on that he enjoyed that game very much.
What did surprise her, however, was how much she enjoyed it in turn.
That she wouldn’t have suspected.
She’d spent so much time working hard to avoid being caught up with a man, that she hadn’t even imagined that she would get so much enjoyment out of it with a male of another species.
“I was thinking a good game of cards, perhaps,”
she suggested as she watched him carry the loaf toward the wood stove.
He paused, crouched over the oven, and briefly peered at her over his shoulder as if trying to make sense of what she wanted.
Suddenly, he shook his head with a chuckle.
“Ah, Tiffany.
You are such a delight,”
he rasped.
“If you wish to fleece me...
you will have to find a way to hold me down.”
She stared at him puzzled and he gave her a wink.
Despite her confusion, her lips twitched at the absurdity of their situation.
Somehow, he had turned the suggestion of a card game into something naughty, but she had zero context for what he was even talking about.
Her lips still twitching, she leaned forward and raised her eyebrows. “What?”
Barbasa’s reaction made her stifle a giggle as his head cocked and his brow puckered in echo of her confusion. “What?”
Shaking her head as a tiny snort of laughter escaped her, Tiffany walked over to the old drawer barely hanging together by a few nails and worn glue and pulled out the pack of playing cards.
Holding them aloft, she returned to his side and wiggled the small box.
“Playing cards,”
she giggled as she pulled the cards from the box and set the stack on the table between them.
She flicked one card over—Ace of spades—and then another—Queen of Hearts—and gestured to them.
“It’s a game, well several games actually depending on what you want to play,”
she clarified with a grin.
“Now what were you talking about?”
He laughed then; a rich booming sound that made her smile widen.
His horns swung as he shook his head with amusement.
“I thought you were speaking of carding wool, which did seem like a strange activity, so I thought you were meaning alluding to the shearing time and binding a male down in place,”
he explained, conjuring a clear picture in her mind of the satyr bound and at her mercy.
“Which certainly seemed like an interesting game to me,”
he added in a provocative murmur.
A hot, wet gush filled her panties with the clenching and quiver of belly.
Heat raced over her skin and deep within her in dual currents, beading her nipples and bringing a throb to her clit.
How did he have that effect on her? She bit her lip and blew out a slow, controlled breath in an attempt to keep herself under control and smiled gamely as she began to shuffle the cards.
She wasn’t going to rush into things.
“As interesting as that sounds...
perhaps Go Fish would be a better place to start.”
His lips tipped with amusement, no doubt onto her attempt at redirection but he went along with it as cheerful as ever.
“I do like fishing.
Anything that involves a pole and a deep pool is worthy of hours of attention.”
Her hold on the cards slipped, releasing cards wildly over the table in front of her as her own needy “pool”
pulsed and clenched with its lack of rod.
Desire wasn’t new to her, and she’d masturbated plenty over the years, but she was suddenly beginning to doubt that she would be able to ease this particular ache he was creating by her own efforts alone.
Clearing her throat, and with his soft chuckle in her ear, Tiffany gathered the cards up again, gave them another couple of shuffles and proceeded to deal them out.
In an annoyingly breathy voice, she hastily explained the rules so that he wouldn’t have an in for any further innuendos.
To her relief, though his smile grew wider, he didn’t continue with that direction of thought.
He did, however, throw her numerous lascivious looks and purred what he sought in ways that made her cheeks heat and her shoulders shake with laughter.
It shouldn’t have been so arousing.
There was nothing technically naughty about it other than the strange emphasis that he put on thick clubs and piercing swords—and in fact should have been more hilarious than anything—but said in that thick, rumbling purr she was unable to restrain her imagination.
Sucking in her lips, she regarded him as steadily as she could manage while pretending that she was unaffected.
In reality, she was barely keeping herself in place on her chair and not wiggling her bottom to provide some tiny bit of relief to her swollen bud.
With great effort of concentration, she focused down on her h and.
“Do you have any two of clubs?”
“Two clubs,”
he murmured with a sly look in echo of her request.
“Two clubs can be quite fine.
I can rightly give you two clubs with a bit of innovation.”
That was it.
With a muffled groan, she flung her hand down and hurried out the front door to seek some privacy.
Barbasa stood from his chair as she passed but she waved him back.
“It’s okay, I just need...
air.
I need some air,”
she squawked with embarrassment.
Gods she was behaving like a young virgin than a woman in her forties, yet she couldn’t seem to help it.
“I will be back in just a minute.”
He didn’t ask what she intended, and she thanked the gods for that.
She would have died of embarrassment to admit that she was so turned on that she was going to go out there to desperately rub one out.
She knew that he would be happy to take of her desire, but she still wasn’t entirely sure if she wanted to take the gamble.
The impermanence of their situation aside when she wished for a male who wouldn’t leave her aside, she felt as if this was all a game to him.
And while a part of her appreciated his jovial flirtation, she didn’t want to be a game or conquest.
Hurrying around a small cluster of trees so that she wouldn’t be seen from the cabin, Tiffany yanked down her pants and sank two fingers into her soaked, slippery passage with a grunted, bit-back moan.
She stroked into her pussy and along her clit until her breath came out in needy pants and her thighs shivered with her impending orgasm.
Biting hard on her lip to keep her cries of pleasure contained, she pinched her nub between her knuckles, sending herself hurtling off the edge as her orgasm swept over her and sagged against the tree supporting her.
She had a feeling she would be spending time daily at that damned tree.
Fuck.
This male is going to kill me yet.