Steph's Outcast

It gives me a chance to touch Steff. We do little more than hold hands, or steal a quick kiss or two, but it is enough to stoke the flames that burn just under my skin.

That night, we sleep in a hunter cave, and O'jek takes a watch at the front. Pak curls up against Steff's back, and the moment he falls asleep, I take the furs he dozes on and drag them to the far side of the fire so I can have a few moments alone with Steff. When I return, my mate presses up against me, her hands on my cock. Her eyes shine as she works my shaft, and she whispers filthy things to me that make me spend faster than I thought possible. She cleans my chest with a scrap of fur and then guides my hand between her thighs, and I kiss back her cries so we do not wake my son. Perhaps it is wrong to touch with him so close by, but Pak sleeps so heavily he is not disturbed, and I have missed my mate too much.

The next day passes much like the first, with O'jek watching over my son so I can spend time with Steff. We walk a few paces behind them, and if Pak notices, he does not seem to care. He is far too excited to “hunt” with O'jek, and when they veer off the trail to check a nearby trap, I tug my mate into my arms and mate tongues with her until we are both breathless.

"How is it that I want you more with every moment that passes?" I murmur between kisses. My hands brush over her teats, teasing the stiff tips because she makes the most delicious gasps when I do. "If I could, I would drop you into this snowbank and lick your cunt until you screamed, and then I would fill you so full." Just thinking about it makes my cock uncomfortably hard. I toy with her nipples, scraping at the points through her clothing. "And you would cry out so loudly even the distant camp would hear us."

Steff moans, leaning heavily into me. "I feel the same. Can we…hide for like five minutes? I promise to be quiet."

I chuckle. "My pretty mate…you are never quiet."

She whimpers a protest, clinging to me. "I'd try real, real hard though."

I bite back a groan at her words, but we must continue on to the beach. We are close now, and Pak will be tired. Steff is tired, too, though she does not complain. It is evident in her slower steps, and the cold weather has chapped her soft face. She needs to be brought to the nearest fire and pampered.

It is my duty to take care of her, and the thought fills me with such joy.

Reluctantly, we pull apart and continue on the trail through the cliffs. For some reason, though, my need for her does not ebb. I try to think of other things—my son, my brother, the tribe that is waiting back at the beach. My thoughts circle back to my mate over and over again, and I cannot focus on anything but her, on the sweet scent of her cunt that lingers in the air, reminding me that she wants me as much as I want her. It is maddeningly distracting, and even when O'jek and Pak return with a catch from the trap, I feel as if I am in a haze.

It is a haze that only Steff's nearness penetrates. Her scent. Her touch.

I am relieved when the cliffs give way to very familiar territory, and the distant green of the great salt water appears on the horizon. The path we take dips through one final snowy canyon, and then up the cliffs that protect the beach like a shield. We move toward the path, but O'jek bounds past and moves to the edge of the cliff, gazing down below. He glances back at my son, then at me. "The shell-beasts are hatching. Come and see. The beach looks alive."

Pak races forward, and the protector in me immediately surges after him. "Pak!" I grab his hand. "Be cautious. We are up high." I nod at O'jek, who puts his hand out. "Hold on to him."

It bothers me less to see Pak quickly put his hand into O'jek's as they peer over the edge. For all that O'jek is gruff and proud and can be very unlikeable, he is good with my son. He holds the boy tightly, dropping to his knees and wrapping his arm around my son's waist so they can both watch below. Pak squeals with delight, his eyes wide. "There are tentacles everywhere!"

Steff wrinkles her nose. "I'm glad we're up here, then."

She leans closer to me, and my cock is achingly hard. What is wrong with me? It feels obvious under my fur kilt as I move to the edge with Steff at my side. I catch a glimpse of the beach below, and for once, the sand is not greenish, nor does it have the red cast it normally does. It is alive with the pinkish-purple creatures, so many of them that it looks as thick as a blanket of snow. A writhing, squirming mass of snow. In the distance, I can make out the campfire, and a series of additional fires in a line to create a barrier that the creatures will not cross. Everyone stands behind them, watching and pointing as the hatchlings flood their way toward the water's edge.