Little Red and the Wolf

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Fingers curled into the mattress, drawing the sheets taught, back arched like the belly of a bow, Alex withered against a gusty exhale. Was she still breathing? Did it matter? No, because her focus wasn't on the carbonation fizzling in her blood or the life-giving muscle roaring like a V-8 engine in her chest, but rather the relentless pace of tooth, tongue, and wiry fingers putting her through her paces.

Gasoline in her veins and helium in her head, Alex felt like a Mylar balloon filled to bursting. Her body ached and burned, fighting to accommodate the intrusion. One sharp jab was all it would take to bring her to pieces, and she yearned for it. Craved it. Panted and bucked and pleaded for it because at this rate, she was going to self-combust or implode.

Two steadying hands snaked around her thighs, holding her still, drawing her close to the hot tongue gliding between her folds, seeking and finding, drawing out every last gasp like a sea witch attempting to steal her voice. Alex invoked deities she had no business calling as claws dug into the soft, pale skin of her legs. It was intoxication at its finest, a mix of pain and pleasure. She lost herself to it, feral and wanting.

But the static back-building in her lower belly and pelvis was becoming unbearable. Desperately, Alex struggled onto her elbows. From the point of her parted legs and beyond, the room was inky dark. Darker than it had reason to be, making the blue orbs staring up at her shine like earth-bound stars.

Predator and prey, that was the thrilling sensation trickling down her spine. Brown hair ghosted across her skin, twining with the muggy breath panting against the burn of her arousal.

"Please," she begged, voice horse and broken, halfway to a sob. The accompanying growl rattled the bones in her chest and splintered her soul. There was a beast in her bed, and it was devouring her whole. Little Red and the Wolf, only she willingly submitted, wanton and loose. "Leanna, please!"

A fanged smile in dark, flashing like heat lightning. Terror and lust shoot through Alex. The moment those same fangs sank into the meat of her inner thigh — breaking skin and spilling crimson across her sheets — three fingers buried deep and twitched into a hard curl. Alex saw stars at the same time she saw sound, rocketing upright in a tangle of sweaty sheets and a gasp like she had been underwater for hours. Panic bloomed, bright and strangling. She couldn't remember where she was until her eyes adjusted. Her room was empty save for her and a growing sense of loneliness.

Seated upright, Alex had to remember how to breathe. In and out. Over and over until the flush of climax faded. But the dregs of her dream stubbornly lingered like a drunken lover.

It was an absurdly long time before she flopped back into her pillows — the heels of her palms digging into her eyes — sleep a secondary need. This was the fourth time this week she was dragged out of the safe confines of sleep due to a dream. Though this was the first time it had ever been a dream like that and probably due to the sad fact that the last time she fell into bed with someone was well over a year and a half ago.

Needy and hardly sated, she sank her teeth into her bottom lip and slid a hand between her legs, chasing the powerful sensations that had woken her. Climax came on fast but not nearly as satisfying, leaving her a coiled, frustrated mess.

"Fuck," she hissed, throwing her arm over her eyes, cleaning her fingers on her sheets. This wasn't how she wanted her day, particularly today, to start. Flushed. Aching. Wanting. Feeling the ghost of fangs along the inside of her thigh. "I can't do this."

Throwing off her blankets, Alex figured now was as good a time to get a jump on her morning despite it being an hour before sunrise. She would be early for her appointment. Hours early. Fuck.

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