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Barbasa gruntedas his cock spilled a copious amount of seed against the thick roots of the tree in front of him. His lips twisted into a faint smile as he stared down it, the long thick ropes of semen covering the splatter that had gushed from a certain female’s wet cunt. A shiver of excitement ran up his spine in reaction and his tail flicked rapidly as his cock let loose another thick stream, pumping the last of his cum in a final burst.
Over many days, he had fallen into a strange routine with Tiffany that he was still struggling to make sense of. She desired him, he tasted it in the air as it bloomed with every erotic temptation he offered, and yet she resisted fulfilling her mutual desire. He knew exactly what she was up to and when she returned to the cabin with a flush on her face and his cock hard enough to chop wood. And every time he excused himself and followed her enticing scent to the tree coated in her sweet release to spill his own seed over it.
Part of his urge could be explained as a way to cover her scent so that no other male picked up the perfume of a ripe, unmated female and tracked it back to their door. But that was only a small part of it. A large part of it was an impulse formed from a deep instinctual need that rose to the fore. He didn’t even think of it, his body demanding that he go and cover her scent with his own and make it his.
If any male even thought to take what was his, they would very quickly be a very dead male. He hadn’t even fucked his female and he was feeling a strong possessiveness and protectiveness over the small human. And gods help him, the taint was reacting to it. It rose in him now and a territorial growl escaped him as he peered suspiciously among the surrounding trees. Stepping back from their combined mess, his nostrils flared as he scented the air, his ears twitching at even the slightest sound, as he sought any sign of an intruder.
He would tear apart anyone who dared to come close. Tear him with claws and teeth until their blood ran down his throat and their flesh fed his appetite.
The birds fell silent at his growl, and even the hum of insects disappeared until nothing but silence pervaded his woods. The mingled scents of himself and his mate were strong and there were plenty of scent trails of animals burrowed nearby and those that had passed along the game trails, but nothing else that threatened his territory.
Another shiver ran over him, his thick skin and hide quivering with the force of it. He glanced back at the cabin, catching sight of it between the trees. The glow of hearth’s fire and the few lamps Tiffany had set out to comfortably illuminate the space for her weaker sight drew him with its warmth. The taint, however, pulsed with an angry hiss through his psyche. It demanded that he defend and stake his claim. To go to the edges of his territory and send his warnings clearly to any who may think to venture toward the boundaries of his woods.
His cock swelled with replenished seed and he groaned deep in his throat as he turned away from the cabin. The taint curled deeper within his mind, its once painful hooks softening as it merely flooded through him. His breath hissed from between his sharp teeth in a snarl and he sprung forward, heading deeper within his wooded abode. He would mark his inner boundary first so no other denizens of the wood be tempted crossing over from the fae realms, and then he would deal with the outer boundaries that followed along a trail of rocks in the grasslands just outside the forest.
Strength from the taint rushed through him, giving him extra speed and endurance as he bounded along game trails that ran in heavy networks through the forest. He knew the moment he hit his boundary. He had patrolled them often enough and had usually contented himself with leaving nothing more than pheromone laden scratches on the largest of the trees. That was no longer enough. Turmoil ran sharply through him as he caught the faint scents of a reynard, a vulpine creature that had claimed a burrow somewhere within the dense forest beyond Barbasa’s territory.
A small fox darted among the trees, drawing his attention and his nostrils flared, scenting the air. It was not the reynard. Rather it was one of the male’s spies. Barbasa grunted in acknowledgement and dipped his head quickly as he drew back. The male was wise enough never to venture close their shared border, though his foxes crossed through it often enough. They did not bother Barbasa, however. They were merely small animals that posed no threat to him or his, even if they were eyes and ears for their master. So long as they did not venture too close to spy upon his dwelling, he had no argument with the male or his beasts.
Turning his attention away from the reynard’s territory, Barbasa gave a few strokes of his cock, spraying a thinner, pheromone rich splatter along one tree and then another. Since it didn’t carry his seed, it rose rapidly to serve his purposes, allowing him to complete his task and move on. So he continued his task throughout the day until he had marked all of the required trees and rocks. Scenting no threat, and his task complete, the taint retreated enough to allow him to return to his female.
He did not explain his whereabouts when Tiffany looked over at him curiously as he stepped through the door some time later, a pair of fat rabbits hanging from his fist. Just the sight of her sent a sense of calm rushing through him that brought a smile to his face. She had been busy again while he was away, adding more of her small feminine touches. He had brought her bunches of the longest, thickest grasses and thin strips of willow over the week and she’d been busily applying herself to learning how to fashion simple baskets under his instruction. Now a lopsided basket was now sitting beside the hearth that she’d apparently finished that day while he was gone. She had filled it with the woodchips for their fire in place of the pile that had previously sat there.
She had also brought in more fresh flowers and had herbs hanging to dry that he had pointed out to her during their walks close to the dwelling. He never ventured far with her so that she remained at all times within the heart of his territory and she seemed to be content with walking those familiar paths that he’d taken her on that he did not worry knowing that she walked along them when he was not home. He didn’t resent her desire to enjoy the woods rather than remain within the house waiting for him. She was always there when he returned, anyway, calming him and banking the taint.
Whatever curse had carried over since exiting the labyrinth, he now understood that, for some reason, it quieted whenever he was safely denned with her. He had even taken to cuddling with her beneath the furs when he crawled into bed without worry.
He only prayed to the gods who oversaw and toyed with the worlds of men and fae that she would never witness him in the grip of the taint’s madness. If he could control it and find small ways to make her life easier and more comfortable there with him, he was certain that he could make her happy. None of that would be easy but he was a stubborn satyr. He never lost a game that he set his mind to. And as he had decent piles of tanned fur and supple leather exquisitely cured and fashioned by satyr secrets, he could easily begin with adding to her comforts when he took them in to the mixed human and fae settlement to trade. They always greeted his work with pleasure and gave him much for them. He would find some things suitable to make his mate smile.
He wasn’t worried about leaving her alone. She was smart and knew where to stay within his territory and he was certain that his marking would keep intruders out while he was gone. Still, he would wait some days just to be completely certain that she would feel safe and secure during his absence.
Once she was ready, however, it would only be his greatest pleasure to delight her by showering gifts upon his mate. He even had some trade credits accumulated in the settlement. He could get her soft pillows and a blanket to wrap around herself to ward off the chill when a fur would be too bulky or heavy.
Carrying the rabbits over to the sink to skin and prepare them, his footsteps clipped with barely restrained excitement as he began to make plans. Tiffany gave him searching looks, a tiny smile playing at the corners of his mouth betraying the fact that he couldn’t quite hide his feelings as thoroughly as he thought. Beneath his excitement, however, contentment soaked through him as they prepared dinner together.
Yes, his mate deserved the best of everything. Whatever he could find worthy of her and carry home would be hers. Perhaps one day he would even take her to the settlement—though that day was long off. His territorial nature was slow to trust potential rivals when he had not yet claimed her, and she had not yet claimed him in turn. But eventually he would.
Whistling merrily to himself, he set to work as he allowed himself to dream of a future that was still out of reach but was becoming increasingly more real to him by the day.
Tiffany starteddown at the bolt of brilliant green fabric. At her side a basket of new sewing supplies still sealed in badly yellowed packaging awaited her attention along with two more bolts of fabric—one a deep blue and the other yellow with a floral pattern printed across it. She ran her fingers over the soft material in disbelief, a little squeal of pleasure escaping her. She glanced up at the satyr grinning down at her, still unable to believe that he gave her all of this. She had known that he’d left to trade some of the furs and leather he had been skillfully working on, but she’d expected for him to return only with simple goods that they needed. Since two people ran through his supplies quicker than just one, it made perfect sense, and she’d simply been relieved that no word had been spoken yet of her leaving. But she had never expectedthis! Not when some part of her still waited with dread, day to day expecting him to call an end to their unusual living situation.
Instead, he had patiently prepared her for his absence as if wanting to be certain that she would be fine for the several days it would take for him to return. Although she’d been nervous that she was to be left alone, she took it all in stride. It helped that he was in no hurry to leave her side though she knew that there were things that they required. Eventually, it was Tiffany who had to laughingly tell him to go. She just hadn’t anticipated how much she would miss him. One day passed and then another. By day three she was sick of her own company and the endless quiet of the cabin without his teasing laughter and the warm scent of him filling the air. As the days passed, she felt increasingly twitchy and caught herself watching for him as she walked restlessly among the trees around the cabin. By the end of day five she began to worry about him and considered trying to find him, though she had no idea what direction she would go or where she would even begin. Thankfully, he returned on the sixth day with his sack swollen with supplies and merry twinkle in his eyes as if he were the Santa Claus of her childhood.
And eventhen,she hadn’t expected him to bring her gifts. She’d learned a long time ago to not get her hopes up for anything from anyone. Gifts had disappeared from her life as quickly as celebrating birthdays and holidays in their dreary town. There were no gifts when every day was a fight for survival. And yet—Barbasa gave her so much and she didn’t know what to think of it.
“Where did you get this?” she asked in awe.
She brushed her fingers again over the fabric, pleased that she had thought to thoroughly bathe herself that morning in the nearby stream that cut through their woods a short distance behind the cabin. She didn’t want to soil the fabric before she even had an opportunity to make something of it.
The satyr chuckled at her obvious delight and unloaded several small packages beside her to join her other gifts. Honey and thick pillows and a large, soft blanket joined the gifts at her side before he stood with his leather sack and carried it over to the kitchen area where he set it on the counter. He did not linger there, though, but returned quickly to her side and crouched down beside her once more.
“Do you like it?” he asked, the flick of his ears betraying his hint of uncertainty.
“It’s gorgeous! I’m almost afraid to use it out of the worry of messing it up.” She chuckled quietly to herself. “I’m not the best at sewing, although my mother did her best to teach me, but I do think I can make a couple of simple, drapey dresses that I can belt up as I need to.” She beamed over at him. “Thank you! For all of it,” she added gesturing to his other thoughtful gifts.
She peered up at him, suddenly shy as she wondered if he wanted a demonstration of her thanks. She’d seen her mother kiss her father for small things he did for her. And when Tiffany was thirteen there had been that boy who demanded a right to a kiss and to feel up her dress when he had helped her drag an old vanity from a vacant house to her own.
She’d punched him in the face for it.
