Barbarian Lover(4)

I race back to my bunk to retrieve the item I’ve been whittling. I will give it to her, and she will know of my interest. I want to see the look on her face when she realizes it. I want to see her soft, small human mouth part in surprise. I want to touch her smooth brow and find out the other places she is smooth.

I want to touch that third nipple between her legs that Vektal mentioned his mate had. He said it made her squeal. I want to make Kira squeal and lose that careful, calm expression she always wears. I’m good in the furs. I know I can please her.

Thinking about solemn Kira coming undone in my arms has made my cock stiffen in my breeches, and I rub a hand against it through my leathers, assuaging the ache. I haven’t had a woman in some time, and my cock responds eagerly to the thought of sinking into the warm, ridged warmth of a woman’s cunt again.

“There you are,” purrs a voice.

I stifle a groan of irritation as Asha saunters into my family’s cave. My bunk is closest to the entrance, and it offers little privacy. Certainly not enough for what Asha intends. “I’m busy at the moment, Asha.” My voice is blunt in the hopes she’ll get the idea. I hide the gift for Kira in the waist of my leggings, because the last thing I want is someone like Asha seeing what I have before my intended recipient does.

“Hemalo’s out showing one of the ugly human girls how to dye leather,” she says, and then moves forward to put a hand on my chest. “Want to come back to my cave with me?”

I remove her hand from my tunic. Once, I had welcomed Asha’s forward attentions. She’d been unmated and flirty and I’d eagerly participated in bedsport with her.

Until she resonated with unassuming Hemalo, one of the tribe’s tanners. Asha hadn’t been pleased – at the time she’d been moving between the beds of several unattached hunters, eager to frolic and enjoy herself. Resonating meant she had a mate and a family…and someone she didn’t want. Their joining hadn’t been the most joyous of occasions, but I had genuinely wished well for her.

I am also relieved, because Asha can be annoying when she wants her way. I am glad she is not my mate.

But her kit died mere days out of the womb, and she and her mate fight, and now she seeks to recapture her old ways…only I am not interested in another male’s mate. And Asha is not the only young female in the tribe anymore.

She clings to my arm. “Aehako, wait.”

“I am busy, Asha. Go seek your mate if you want sex.”

She huffs in irritation, and smacks my arm with one hand. “I am not interested in him. We have no children together. Why should I be tied to him?” She follows me as I head out of the privacy of my parents’ cave and into the main tribal area. “You enjoyed sharing furs with me before.”

“I’m interested in another,” I tell her.

Asha gasps and clings to my arm, tugging me backward to face her. “Not one of those humans?”

“Who else would it be?” I chuckle.

“But they’re so…ugly.”

I roll my eyes. “Does it matter?” I do not find them ugly. Different, yes. Intriguing? Definitely. They could be as beautiful as a kas-fish with its opalescent scales, and she would find them ugly because they are competition. Poor Asha is threatened – before, she had all the young hunters in the tribe at her beck and call. Now she watches them pair off with their own mates and feels unhappiness at her situation.

She pouts. “I miss you,” she says, trying another tactic. “Aehako, please.”

I give her a quelling look. She’s wasting my time, and all the while, Kira is outside alone. This is a rare moment I can spend with her and not have others peering over my shoulder.

“I must go,” I tell her firmly, and adjust the gift I am hiding under my clothing. Asha gives me a curious look but steps aside. I jog to the cave entrance, looking for Kira’s small body. The humans barely come to my breast, and I am not even the tallest of males in our tribe. They are delicate things, and I worry that Kira will not be safe out here.

There are tracks in the snow, and I follow them out of the caves and onto the nearby ridge, where Maylak’s healing plants grow in abundance. They are wedged into a small valley, buffered from the worst of the winds. Kira is here, grabbing leaves off of a plant angrily, a scowl on her face.

She turns and glares at me as I approach. Am I the recipient of some of her anger? I grin to myself. Her cheeks are flushed with that unusual pink color that some find ugly in humans. I find it charmingly adorable. She’s so many interesting colors – pink and brown, and her eyes are the vivid khui blue courtesy of the symbiont. “Hello, my small friend,” I call out in greeting.