Page 49 of Little Red Riding Hood
The endearment only worsened Red’s pain, the dagger in his heart twisting.
“I can’t…” Red flapped his hand wildly around Wim’s cock. “It’s too big!” he snapped angrily. “Why the fuck is it so big?!”
Wim laughed so loudly, a flock of birds burst into flight. “Never had anyone complain about that before.”
Red scowled, his cheeks now burning hotter than hell. Clearly, Wim’s previous lovers must possess stupidly large mouths to go with their stupid faces.
“Ah, don’t worry yourself, sweetheart,” Wim said, gently cupping Red’s face. His calloused thumb traced Red’s furrowed brow. “Whatever you can offer, it’s more than enough for me.” His words resonated with sincerity.
Red huffed, trying to suppress his frustration. He allowed himself to take a deep breath, leaning into Wim’s touch as he worked to regain his composure.
“Just relax,” Wim whispered, soothing Red’s racing thoughts. “Even the sight of your pretty little mouth an inch away from my cock has it twitching, eager to spend itself all over your face.”
Red choked in shock.What words!
Red’s gaze locked onto Wim’s eyes, now twinkling with mischief, and his resolve slowly returned. With a renewed sense of determination, Red leaned in once more, his lips parting…
The taste of salt and musk hit Red’s tongue as he wrapped his lips around the wolf’s cockhead and sucked hard. Wim let out a low moan and a surge of satisfaction bubbled up within Red. He paused to savour the moment.Hewas doing that, bringing pleasure to this wild wolf.
“Fucking hell, sweetheart!” Wim growled, his hands gently kneading Red’s shoulders. “That’s perfect. You’re perfect.”
Perfect.
Tears prickled Red’s eyes. Wim wouldn’t know, of course, but that word meant everything to him.
Red returned to his task with renewed fervour, and quickly lost himself. He danced his tongue around the head of Wim’s cock, drenching it in saliva. His hands joined the frenzy, and slid up and down the now slick length, spreading the wetness.
Oh, yes.Red was doing a very good job indeed, if Wim’s gruntswere anything to go by.
Then Wim abruptly threw his head back, and let out a guttural howl that echoed through the forest. The vibrations rippled through Red, and fuelled him onward.
Raw groans and guttural growls filled the forest. Red relished every single one—affirmation that he was doing something right… somethingperfectin fact.
With slow, tender movements, Wim’s hand stroked Red’s cheek, mapping the shape of it where it bulged with his cock.
Heart stuttering, Red tentatively placed his hand over Wim’s. He gathered his courage, then guided Wim’s hand towards his hair, giving it the smallest experimental tug, hoping Wim would understand without him having to voice his desire. When their eyes met, Wim’s lips curved into a knowing smile that made Red’s pulse race.
Wim’s large hand tangled in Red’s curls, grip tightening with delicious slowness until Red thought he might combust from anticipation. The sudden pull that followed walked the perfect line between pleasure and pain, forcing a broken moan from Red’s throat as his head tilted back, exposing his throat to the wolf above him.
“You like this?” Wim asked, low and husky.
Red could only softly moan his affirmation, nodding as best he could.
It was what the stable master had done to him, the few times he’d fucked Red. Though their rough couplings had been performed with cold detachment—emotionless fumbles in the dark, with Red pressed up against the wooden wall of the stable, splinters of wood biting into his hands.
But this, with Wim, was different. Here, in this wild refuge of the forest, Red found himself stripped bare of more than just his clothes. Every touch, every growl, every heated glance made Red feel like he mattered—like he wasn’t just some imperfect thing to be hidden away in the shadows of the palace. Every moment stripped Red of the shame he’d carried since childhood.
Wim tugged on Red’s hair once more, forcing Red to moan around Wim’s prick. His body shivered with pleasure, his ownlength twitching although it had just spent. Red’s thoughts swirled as he found himself drowning in the sheer intensity of the moment.
Wim’s growl deepened, vibrating through Red’s core, as he warned, “Sweetheart, I’m close.”
Red wrapped his lips tight around him, then with a final thrust, Wim released inside Red’s mouth. The warm torrent of seed was more than he anticipated. He tried his best to swallow it all, but some spilled out, dribbling down his chin.
Red gasped for breath, the taste of Wim lingering on his tongue as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. His eyes fluttered upwards, meeting Wim’s heated gaze with a mixture of defiance and newfound vulnerability.
Once Wim was fully spent, he collapsed onto the forest floor, pulling Red onto his lap in one fluid motion. The wolf’s chest heaved against Red’s back, his breaths coming in hot pants against Red’s ear. With an almost tender ferocity, Wim nuzzled into the crook of Red’s neck, inhaling deeply as if trying to memorise his scent. Then his tongue—rough and hot—dragged slowly up the column of Red’s throat, cleaning away the remnants of their passion that had spilled there. The gesture was pure animal instinct, primal and possessive, yet somehow intensely intimate. His heart raced as Wim continued his meticulous attention, each lap of his tongue causing small gasps to escape Red’s lips.
Red melted against Wim’s broad chest, tilting his head to give the wolf better access. Red felt claimed, marked, cherished in a way that made his chest ache with an emotion he could not name. The heat of Wim’s body enveloped him completely, as if the wolf was trying to shield him from the world itself.
