Chapter 9
GOOD BOY
By the time he feeds me lunch on my third day in Blackmoor, I should be figuring out what the hell I’m going to do when tomorrow comes and my time in the forest is over.
I should definitely be trying to make sense of how I went from insisting that I wasn’t going to let Wolf fuck me to not only telling him I was ready out in the woods, to then getting curious enough about that weird knot thing he has at the base of his cock that I initiated sex myself last night…
and then when I woke up to him lapping at my pussy and, well, I couldn’t let his erection go to waste this morning.
I don’t know exactly what it is—even if he’s insistent that the forest gave me to him to be his long-awaited mate—but I guess I kind of do blame this strange connection I feel toward Wolf.
This tug that seems to have me moving toward him rather than running away.
Sure, I tell myself that it doesn’t matter.
That if I wanted to go, he’s already proven that he’ll chase right after me.
I might as well stay where it’s warm, where I’m fed, where all I have to do is run my fingers through the fur on his tail and he’ll take me then and there as though he can’t get enough of me…
I can’t stay. Deep down, he has to understand that. Not like I’ve told him so… but if he’s one of the beasts of Blackmoor, he has to know. But if it makes him happy to take care of his mate anyway he can, who am I to stop him?
And that’s why I’m currently sitting on the edge of his nest on the floor, eating seared meat—that I try not to question since I have no idea what sort of animal Wolf hunted to bring me back fresh meat—that he cooked for me over the fire in the grate like this is normal.
Like this could be normal.
Like maybe I might have found my happy-ever-after in the villain of poor Little Red’s story…
Wolf crouches low to the ground, resting on his back paws, watching as I ate.
As much as he has discovered that he enjoys mating more than because it’s some kind of instinct to his wolfish side, he also gets obvious pleasure out of caring for me.
Whenever I eat something that he presents to me, whether it’s questionable meat, bread, cheese, or a Wolf-sized handful of cracked nuts, he preens and grins around his mouthful of fangs while his tail lashes back and forth.
Fuck it, it wags, and if that makes him even more dog-like to me, I don’t care.
In some ways, he’s absolutely adorable. In others, he’s scorching hot.
I don’t think I’ever been worshipped that way that Wolf does, and when I see the bulge pressing against the ragged linen pants he wears because I asked him to, it’s all I can do to stop myself from reminding him that pants go down.
Ripping my gaze from his junk, I meet the earnest look in his golden eyes.
“You like it,” he says, proud of himself that I’m eating his food.
I glance up at him, chewing. “I do. I mean, I don’t know what it is… and I kind of don’t want to… but it’s good. Thank you, Wolf.”
He tilts his head.
“Red is fed.”
“Yes, I’m fed,” I agree, trying to hide my amused smile and probably failing. “Gold star for you.”
His mouth curves around his fangs. I know it’s not because he understands my sarcastic quip that might not have been as sarcastic as I mean it, but because he’s happy that I’m happy.
Afterward, he disappears outside and returns with water.
Not just a cup for me to drink out of, either, but—thanks to his glorious muscles—it’s more than enough to fill the large brass basin he magically makes appear out of nowhere…
and, surprisingly, it wasn’t the dresser that I still can’t quite make sense of.
With a single-minded determination, he drags the full basin closer to the hearth, using the fire to warm the water inside carefully before setting it in front of me like it’s the most natural thing in the world for him to do.
“For Red,” he says. “So my mate can wash her hands and she won’t shiver.”
I blink, surprised even though I watch him go through the motions in undisguised interest. “You did this for me?”
He nods. “Wolf saw his mate shake after washing up before. Red likes to be clean. Wolf will make sure she can be clean whenever she wants and stay warm, too.”
He… he noticed the water was too chilly for me? And, instead of thinking I was weak for it, he came up with a solution for me? I mean, yeah, I’d kill for a shower right now, but a quick scrub with this basin sounds heavenly… and he did it for me?
My heart does a flip-flop inside of my chest. Shit. No one… no one ever does anything like this for me. What is he doing? What kind of game is Wolf playing?
None, I know. One look at his face and I know that, like everything else, he’s just tending to his mate. He doesn’t realize that such a sweet gesture isn’t just going to get him inside my nonexistent panties.
Oh, no. Something like that will make it way too fucking easy for him to worm his way straight into my heart.
I purposely push that realization so that I can dip my hands into the water instead, sighing softly as the warmth sinks into my skin.
“Okay,” I murmur. “This is… this is really nice, Wolf.”
Though he doesn’t respond, Wolf watches me wash in the basing like it’s just as important as watching me eat.
Like it matters. Like I fucking matter. He even brings over something that he adds to the water, forming bubbles.
It’s no kind of soap I’ve ever seen, but in Blackmoor it does the job and I enjoy seeing the dirt and grime of the forest slough off as I get clean.
Hands… pits… feet… thanks to a scrap of fabric that Wolf provides when I ask, I’m as fresh as I can be after only one change of water.
Once I finish my impromptu bath, I look down at the black nightie. Yikes. It’s a disaster, and I don’t just mean because I slept in it for two nights straight, plus I also ran through the woods in it twice.
“I should probably wash this too,” I say, lifting the hem slightly, cheeks warming just a little when I notice the streaky off-white stain from where Wolf ‘marked’ me.
Wolf’s answering growl is instant.
My first night in Blackmoor, I might’ve whimpered to hear it, then started to look for the nearest exit. Now? I look over at Wolf.
His shoulders are hunched, his fingers clenched into tight fists. He sucks in a breath, then suddenly he’s right there, claws flexing before he closes his hand over mine, gently tugging the dirty night dress back in place.
“No.”
I tilt my head. “Sorry? I thought you said ‘no’.”
He nods. “Do not wash this.”
“But it’s dirty,” I point.
“So? It smells like Wolf. That means Red smells like Wolf. Wash your skin. Wash your cunt. That is fine with Wolf because he will only make it dirty again later. But until he marks Red again, wear this.” He lets go of my hand, plucking at his pants. “And Wolf will wear these.”
He’s so close. I mean, he’s right there.
And I don’t know what exactly he means when he says I smell like him, but if walking around with his jizz on this dress has me smelling half as good as his woodsy, wild musk, that’s not such a bad thing.
He’s not wrong about how I got him to wear pants for me when I highly doubt he ever does.
Hell, I’m pretty sure, before I came along, he spent most of his time as a wolf on four legs instead of a wolf-man on two, so maybe it’s right. Maybe it’s the least I can do.
Or maybe I’m beginning to see the merits of walking around with panties on—or when Wolf gets to go au naturel instead of stuffing his cock and his tail into a pair of pants to make me happy.
The more I think about it, the more I think I should do something about that.
Maybe see if I could borrow scissors and cut a hole in the back for him to slip his tail through.
But Wolf has claws. That magic dresser drawer of his probably wouldn’t be able to provide scissors when there’s a good chance he doesn’t even know what they are.
Well… look at that. His tail might be all kinked up and uncomfortable, shoved in those pants.
Really, it’s just doing him a kindness when I tell him, “I’ll keep the dress on, but I was thinking…
your poor tail.” Your poor dick. “It can’t feel good, trapped in those pants.
Maybe… maybe it’s okay… since it’s just you and me, Wolf…
maybe you give it a break and take those pants off again. ”
His face goes thoughtful. Yeah, yeah. He’s a lot smarter than you’d guess from first look at his monstrous appearance, and he knows that—this time—I’m the one who might be playing a little. He knows that, and he also knows better than to look a gift horse in the mouth.
Without another moment’s hesitation, he uses his claw to slash the trousers to ribbons.
I gulp, knowing that I’m playing with fire… and I like it. Just like I can’t stop myself from checking out how lower half—or squeezing my thighs together when I see that… yup… with that monster-sized erection, he needs all the space he can get.
I force my gaze to his face. “How’s that now? Your tail, I mean… does it feel better?’
Wolf growls softly. “Let Wolf show Red how his tail feels now.”
What?
Oh.
Oh.
With the first caress, his tail brushes against my leg.
He sweeps it along my outer thigh, using the tip to lift my nightie up until it’s hiked up over my hip.
Shifting his stance, he does the tame to the other side.
Then, once he’s bared my pussy to him, he uses his tail to prod at the point where my legs are closed to him.
I gulp. “Wolf?”
His answer is a determined rumble deep in his chest.
Yup. Definitely playing with forever, but, oh, do I love the way it burns… and, just in case, I’m going to throw a little more wood on the fire.
“You know… I just got clean.”
“Wolf knows. And he said he will enjoy dirtying up his mate again. So open Red. Open for your male.”
Well, when he puts it like that, how can I refuse?
Reaching out, falling forward until I’m braced against his chest, I move my legs apart, giving him access to any part of me he wants.
His tail dips between my legs, stroking against my entire slit. I shudder and groan, especially when he does that tail-wagging thing I like as he plays with the top of my mound, searching for my clit because he knows damn well that, once he does, I’ll let him do whatever he wants.
Shit. I’ll let him do that anyway, and at this point, I think we both know it.
I scratch his chest. He moves his tail, curling it around my ass as he uses one his claws to lift my chin, forcing me to meet the heat in his eyes.
“Wolf will wash his mate after,” he promises, like that settles the matter. “There’s a tub I can bring inside. If Red gets dirty, Wolf will clean her everywhere.”
Oh, yeah. He’s a smart one. He gives me a taste of being clean, then decides to negotiate another round of mating in exchange for an actual bath.
So I won’t be able to get a fresh change of clothes until I’m out of Blackmoor, but to be able to wash my hair…
after last night, I would’ve fucked him because I want to.
No lie. If it makes him feel better to think that I need something out of wanting him, maybe it’s better this way.
Maybe then he won’t be so hurt when I have to leave tomorrow—
No. No. Tomorrow problem, remember? Today… right now? I have Wolf right where I want him… at least, until I have him in an even better position.
“Fine,” I say.
The hunger in his face sharpens his features. “Yes?”
I nod. “Yeah. But we’re doing this my way.”
Okay. So maybe I’m giving us both an ‘out’ clause.
If there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s that Wolf doesn’t give up control all that easily.
It’s his nature, I guess. Just like how he had to mount me and take me behind in the most animalistic way possible, if he has any idea what I’m thinking…
he might refuse. And then, if he does, I can pretend that I don’t care.
That I’m not basically fiending to see if that cock stretched me out as deliciously as I remember from last night…
“Red wants to mate Wolf?”
“Only if you let me do it my way.”
For a moment, I’m not sure how he will react. Torn between lust for his mate and his wolfish instincts, Wolf looks at me for a moment before he lashes out his hand, carefully wrapping it around one of mine.
I’m not sure what he’s doing. I mean, I want to take control, but I’ll admit I’m curious as to what Wolf is doing. Holding to me, he shuffles his feet, leading us both over to the abandoned bed in the corner.
A look of pride fills his face. “I understand. Red and Wolf will mate here like people.”
I almost choke on my laugh. Goddamn it, my almost seven-foot-tall monster is so fucking cute. Horny as hell, but adorable. Of course that’s what he thought I meant.
One problem: that empty bed that still makes me think ‘grandma’ wigs me out.
If we’re playing Red Riding Hood, I guess I’m supposed to believe that Wolf offed her before turning his hungry sights on her granddaughter.
Only I don’t have a grandmother, and he definitely doesn’t seem like the sort of big, bad wolf who would chow down on a little old lady.
Not when he has his mate’s pussy to keep him satisfied.
Another pang hits me as I think about what tomorrow will bring before, with the practiced determination of a woman with way too many skeletons in her closet, I force myself to forget about it in favor of looking up at Wolf.
“Nah. Not there. Actually, I really like how comfortable your nest is.”
And, whoa, that’s nothing I ever thought I’d say.
Wolf’s lips quirk upward and, with another tug, guides me over to the pile of mussed-up blankets on the floor.
However, before he can try to position me the way he wants, I slip my hand out of his and point down at the slight hole we’ve made in the center.
“Down, boy. And don’t move.”
Okay. I couldn’t resist. So many of his mannerisms remind me of a good little puppy, so eager to be praised. And when he immediately plops down on the nest because I’m told him to, I smile.
“Good Wolf.”
And a good Wolf deserves a treat.