Page 11 of The Satyr's Wood

“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 inreaction 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 atouch 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 wereyoutalking 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.

“Idolike fishing. Anything that involves a pole and a deep pool is worthy ofhoursof 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.

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