Page 58 of Little Red Riding Hood
Strong arms caught him instantly. A hiccup burst from Red’s lips, followed by another. He pressed his hand to his mouth, trying to stifle the giggles that bubbled up uncontrollably.
Wim pulled back, surveying Red’s face with concern. “Just how much wine have you had? I forget you’re just a little thing.”
“I might have had the first bottle all to myself, while you were cooking dinner.” Another hiccup escaped between Red’s fingers, and he dissolved into more giggles, falling forward to rest his forehead against Wim’s shoulder.
Wine was so much fun. Red should drink it more often.
He spied the bottle next to Wim on the log, and stretched his arm out to grab it.
“I don’t think so.” Wim blocked his efforts.
Red huffed, crossing his arms. “You’re sobossy. Why do you always have to tell me what to do?” His lower lip jutted out in a pout. “I’m not a child.”
“Could’ve fooled me, with that face you’re pulling.” Wim’s tone held both amusement and exasperation. “Come on, you need some water.”
“No.” The word came out as a needy whine. Red’s body moved of its own accord, hips rolling forward to grind against Wim. The friction sent sparks of pleasure shooting through him, and he gasped at the sensation of his hardness pressing against Wim’s.
Wim’s head fell back, eyes squeezed shut. “Fuck.” He drew in a ragged breath. “You’re making this fucking difficult, sweetheart.”
Before Red could protest, strong hands gripped his waist and lifted him up. The world spun briefly before he found himself deposited onto the log. The sudden loss of contact left him cold and a pathetic sound came from his lips.
Wim stood, running a hand through his dishevelled hair as he stalked over to their packs. Red watched Wim through wine-hazed eyes, admiring the way his muscles flexed with each movement as he searched through their belongings.
“Damn.” Wim held up both empty waterskins, shaking his head. “They’re both dry.”
“I don’t need water.” Red resisted stamping his foot, though it was a challenge. “I needyou.”
And god, how that was true! Red’s rock-hard cock begged to be touched, and Red slipped his hand underneath his ass, in case it got carried away of its own accord.
Wim fell to the ground in front of Red and squeezed his leg. “Right, pay attention, sweetheart. I’m going to fetch some fresh water from the stream. When I get back, if you’ve cleared your headand drink enough to satisfy me…” He paused. “Then I’ll happily do anything your wicked little heart desires.”
Wim’s mouth blazed a trail across Red’s jaw, teeth grazing sensitive skin until he reached Red’s ear. A gasp caught in Red’s throat as Wim captured the lobe between sharp teeth, sending shivers down his spine.
Through heavy-lidded eyes, Red watched as Wim stepped back and stripped off his clothes. The firelight painted golden streaks across his muscled form, highlighting every curve and plane. Dark hair dusted his chest, trailing down his stomach to… Red’s mouth went dry. Wim’s proud prick was thick and hard, and Red’s mind filled with possibilities of what it might feel like inside him. Would he dare ask? The wine still coursing through his veins whispered,yes, yes, yes!
Wim’s form blurred and shifted, fur sprouting across his body as he transformed into the massive grey wolf. He shook himself once before managing to fling his pack onto his back.
“I’ll be back before you know it,” he said, voice deeper in wolf form.
Red’s hand had wandered without his permission, palming himself through his breeches. A rumbling growl made him freeze, caught in the act.
“You better save that for me, Little Red.” Wim’s eyes glowed in the firelight. “Unless you want to find out what happens to naughty little things who don’t follow instructions.”
Red’s lips curved into a deliberate smirk which he hoped was vaguely sultry. “Well then, you better be quick, wolf.”
A blink of an eye later, Wim was gone, disappeared into the dark abyss.
Red was alone. Alone, again.
He stared into the fire, enjoying the show the shadows offered as they danced around the edges. They twisted into strange shapes that Red’s wine-addled mind couldn’t quite make sense of. He’d never noticed howloudthe forest was at night—every crack of a branchor rustle of leaves made him jump. His heart refused to settle into a steady rhythm.
Back at the palace, he’d spent countless nights alone in the attic, perfectly content with only his own company. Now the solitude pressed in around him like a physical weight. The fire crackled, sending sparks into the darkness, and Red found himself counting the seconds until Wim’s return.
A twig snapped somewhere in the darkness, and Red was abruptly reminded of the night he met Wim, when the wolf was stalking him in the shadows.
But he was safe here, wasn’t he? Wim wouldn’t have left him if he wasn’t safe. Then again, where the fuck was he? Why wasn’t he back yet? How long had it even been? Minutes? Hours?
What if something had happened to him?
