Page 70 of Little Red Riding Hood
Suddenly, Wim released his grip, allowing Red’s legs to fall before climbing on top of him, breathing hard, eyes wild with barely contained desire. “If I don’t stop now, I’ll take you right here on the forest floor. And for what I want to do to you next, we need more than just my tongue.”
Large hands gripped Red’s hips, pressing him into the earth.The ground was hard beneath him, rocks digging into his back, but Red barely noticed—his entire world had narrowed to Wim’s burning gaze, the massive form caging him in.
Yes, yes, yes!
The ache between his legs was maddening. Red didn’t care about the discomfort, or the dirt, or anything else. He needed Wim’s hands on him, needed that dangerous mouth, needed that magnificent cock splitting him open.
Red’s body trembled with need, every nerve ending screaming for more, right now. “I don’t care, just—”
“I do.” Wim’s tone left no room for argument as he scooped Red into his arms. “When I claim you fully, it will be somewhere worthy of you. Not on dirt and rocks that will bruise your beautiful skin.” He nuzzled against Red’s throat. “I’m going to drag you back to our camp and take you properly on our new blankets. Get our scent all over them. Mark you as mine until neither of us can move.”
Red forced his face into an expression of mock gratitude. “Oh, thank you, most gracious wolf. Howconsiderateof you to think of my delicate sensibilities.” He batted his eyelashes dramatically. “Whatever would I do without such a gentleman to look after me?”
Wim leapt up with startling speed. In one deft sweep, he grabbed Red and tossed him over his broad shoulder like a sack of flour.
Red yelped in surprise, the world spinning as his feet left the ground. His indignant protest was cut short by another sharp slap against his now-aching bottom, making him yelp again.
“Put me down this instant!” Red demanded, though his command held little authority from his current upside-down position.
Wim’s only response was to charge through the forest at an impossible pace, his long strides eating up the distance back to their camp. The trees blurred past as Red bounced against Wim’s shoulder, his red cloak fluttering behind.
With a triumphant growl, Wim reached their campsite and deposited Red onto their gloriously soft blankets. Red chose to ignorethe dark splatter on the edge of one—likely a smidge of bandit blood—and nestled into them, clutching the fabric.
Red looked up at Wim, ready for him to smother him with his weight—but to his absolute horror, the wolf turned away and began gathering wood.
“What the fuck are you doing?!” Red propped himself up on his elbows, watching in disbelief as Wim arranged kindling.
“Making a fire for you,” Wim replied simply, as if it wasn’t the most ridiculous thing he could be doing right now.
“I don’t need afire!” Red’s voice came out embarrassingly close to a whine. “Wim, please… I can’t wait any longer!”
“You’ll catch a cold,” Wim said matter-of-factly, though Red caught the hint of a smirk playing at his lips.
“It’s not cold at all,” Red insisted, fighting to keep the desperation from his tone. “Just come here. Please?”
Wim glanced over his shoulder, his eyes gleaming with mischief. “Patience, sweetheart. I plan to be on those blankets with you for a very long time. We’ll need the fire’s warmth before the night is through.”
“It must be almost dawn by now!” Red practically shrieked, before giving up and lying back on the blankets. “I’ll fall asleep if you’re not careful!”
Wim only laughed in a way that told Red he knew there was no way in hell Red would be sleeping before Wim fucked him senseless.
Heat bloomed across Red’s skin as the fire roared to life, its orange glow casting dancing shadows across their blankets. Despite his earlier protests, the warmth did feel divine against his exposed skin… not that he’d admit it in a hurry.
The blankets shifted as Wim’s weight settled over him like a living furnace. Wim’s face pressed against his own, and Red couldn’t help but gasp at the rough scratch of his beard. The texture sent tingles across his skin, somehow both gentle and overwhelming at once. Wim’s hot breath tickled his ear, and Red melted into the touch like snow in sunlight.
Red’s hands found Wim’s arms, exploring the solid muscle beneath his fingertips. His touch wandered up towards Wim’s biceps, where his fingers discovered the raised edges of the bite mark from the soulstealer. The puckered flesh felt wrong beneath his fingertips, and Red’s chest tightened as he imagined the monster’s teeth clamping down around Wim’s arm.
A moment of pure selfishness struck Red—because he was ever so glad that the soulstealer had bitten Wim, forcing him away from his pack and into Red’s path. A horrible misfortune for Wim, yet a precious gift for Red—for the time with this wildling would be something he treasured forever. He was as sure of that as he was of the moon being in the sky.
Wim’s hips rolled against his own, that impressively large length of him pressing into Red’s own. Wim leaned in close to Red’s ear to whisper, “I can’t wait to be inside you.”
Suddenly the reality of what they were about to do crashed over Red like ice water. His breath caught in his throat as nervousness fluttered in his stomach. This wasn’t like his fumbled encounters in the stable—this was Wim, and he didn’t want to look the fool.
Andfuck, he must already not be acting appropriately, because Wim stiffened, pressing his hands on either side of Red’s head to push himself up.
Concern danced in Wim’s narrowed eyes. “You… You have done this before, yes?”
Oh ground, please swallow me up.
