Page 22 of Little Red Riding Hood (The GriMM Tales #1)

When his member finally sprang free of the material that was entrapping it, it stood to attention, firm and desperate for Wim’s promise. But when a whisper of wind caressed his bare skin, Red’s fingers twitched with the instinct to shield himself from view.

“I know it’s not…” Red trailed off, fumbling for words. Much? A monster cock like your own?

Wim’s eyebrows drew together, and his head tilted to one side. “What?” Then he glanced between Red’s face and his sorry length, bellowing a hearty laugh. “Red, your cock is as lovely as you are. And very… proportionate.”

As lovely as you are.

Red stored the words deep within his heart.

Grinning, Wim gave the side of Red’s cockhead a tiny kiss while his hand squeezed Red’s ass, pulling Red towards him. The other hand buried itself in the patch of hair above his slender length, petting the strands.

Then, while still gazing up at Red with his gorgeous amber eyes, Wim licked the glistening wetness that awaited him at the tip of Red’s rock-solid member.

Red yelped in a most unbecoming way, and would have flinched away if it weren’t for Wim’s steady hand.

Wim laughed. “Not quite the reaction I was hoping for. Let me try this.”

Wim’s tongue traced a slow, deliberate path from the base of Red’s cock to its tip, making every inch of him quiver with a bewitching thrill.

The sensation was so intense that Red had to press his palm against the rough bark of the tree to steady himself.

He’d often wondered what it would feel like to have a man’s tongue on his cock, but this was beyond his wildest dreams, and all Wim had done so far was lick him.

Wim repeated his efforts, though this time his tongue felt even wetter. Red’s fingers curled into the uneven surface of the tree, finding purchase in the cracks and grooves as though they were lifelines. He leaned his head back, eyes fluttering closed as waves of pleasure coursed through him .

“I love this cock of yours,” Wim whispered, the warmth of his breath fanning over Red’s sensitive skin.

The words sounded like they had been spoken in a secret language, one meant only for Red to understand.

Wim kissed the shaft again, tenderly, reverently, as if it were a sacred jewel.

“Besides, the size of it makes it all the easier to do this.”

Red swayed on his feet, the anticipation twisting his insides into knots. Wim’s hand, firm and gentle, found the back of Red’s thigh, steadying him.

With a slow, deliberate motion, Wim took the head of Red’s cock into his mouth.

The heat and wetness were overwhelming, enveloping him completely.

Red gasped, his breath hitching as Wim’s tongue swirled around the tip, exploring every contour, every ridge.

Wim’s lips slid down the shaft, taking more of him in, inch by glistening inch.

Red’s world narrowed down to the exquisite sensation of Wim’s mouth enveloping him.

Every touch, every movement, was a revelation.

Wim’s hands gripped Red’s hips, holding him steady as he slid down further, taking the entire length of Red’s cock into his throat.

Wim swallowed repeatedly, and Red felt every constriction, and it was more than he could bear.

His eyes flew open, and he stared down at Wim. The sight of the wolf on his knees, his mouth full of Red’s cock, was the most erotic thing he had ever seen. Wim’s eyes met his, and there was a raw, primal hunger in them that made Red’s blood boil.

Wim’s mouth came off Red’s length with a loud pop . The wolf took a moment to catch his breath. He continued his intense eye contact. “Stroke my head,” he said, with such soft neediness that a small gasp left Red’s lips.

Red’s hands immediately found purchase in Wim’s chestnut mane.

Did he mean for Red to pull his hair? Red himself liked that a great deal.

But no, Wim had said stroke, so Red ran his fingers through the thick strands with reverent tenderness.

He traced gentle patterns against Wim’s scalp, marvelling at how such a powerful creature could melt beneath such a soft touch.

When his fingernails lightly scraped against Wim’s scalp, the wolf let out a sound somewhere between a growl and a purr, his eyes half-closing in pleasure.

Fingers still entangled in his hair, Red guided Wim’s mouth back to his waiting cock. Wim wasted no time, plunging Red’s length straight down his throat again.

When the muscles of Wim’s throat constricted once again around the head of Red’s cock, he screamed. These jolts of pleasure were unlike any he’d ever experienced.

So this is what all the fuss is about.

Red’s fingers threaded quickly through Wim’s hair, pulling him closer, urging him on. He could feel every pulse, every contraction of Wim’s throat as he swallowed around him, taking him deeper.

The intensity was almost too much, yet Red craved more. He needed more. Wim seemed to sense this, his hands moving from Red’s hips to cup his ass, pulling him in impossibly tighter. The feeling of being completely consumed, of being taken in so deeply, was indescribable.

Red’s breath came in ragged gasps, his entire body tense with the building pleasure.

Wim’s tongue worked magic, swirling and sucking, driving him to the brink of madness.

Every nerve ending in his body seemed to converge at the point where Wim’s mouth met his flesh, every sensation heightened, every touch amplified.

Wim’s head bobbed, the rhythm steady and sure.

Red could feel his own heartbeat pounding in his ears, could feel the sweep of Wim’s tongue against the underside of his shaft as he withdrew, only to plunge back down again.

The sensation of being taken in so deeply, of being enveloped in that heat, was unlike anything he had ever experienced.

Red’s hips were soon bucking involuntarily in response to the building pleasure.

The pressure built, a swelling tide within him that threatened to overwhelm him.

Not yet! This was far too good to release so soon.

Red bit deep into his lip again as he instinctively tightened his fingers in Wim’s hair, then chastised himself.

Stroke him . He relaxed his grip, smoothing down Wim’s soft curls as if he were a puppy.

As Wim continued his punishing rhythm—showing no signs of tiredness—Red’s mind chanted the wolf’s name like a prayer, but his lips couldn’t quite muster the courage to scream it aloud.

Instead, Red showed Wim how amazing he was making him feel by giving him small gasps and moans, his body trembling with the sheer intensity of the sensations coursing through him. “I’m—” he managed to choke out.

Wim’s eyes met his, filled with the deepest depths of desire.

Nobody had ever looked at Red like this.

Like he was perfect exactly as he was.

It was exhilarating.

It was intoxicating .

The edge approached too quickly, the precipice looming before him.

Red’s body tensed, every muscle coiled, every nerve taut.

And then with a final, desperate thrust, he plunged over, his release pulsing through him in wave after wave of ecstasy.

Red removed a hand from gripping Wim’s head to press it against his mouth, to muffle his uncontrollable cries.

Wim swallowed every drop, his throat working around Red’s cock, the sensation drawing out his orgasm until he was left gasping, trembling, utterly spent.

Red’s fingers, still tangled in Wim’s hair, relaxed their grip, sliding through the strands as the wolf slowly withdrew, his tongue giving one last languid swipe along the length of Red’s shaft.

Red sagged against the tree, his breath coming in ragged gasps, his body quaking with the aftershocks of the most intense release of his life. Wim stood, his hands still on Red’s hips, steadying him. The wolf’s eyes were soft, his expression tender as he gazed down at Red.

“Sweeter even than I dreamed,” Wim murmured, a low rumble that vibrated through Red’s body.

Red managed a shaky smile, his breath still uneven, his heart still pounding. He pressed up against Wim’s large frame, his solid presence the only thing grounding him. Wim’s thumb brushed lightly over Red’s cheek. He leaned into the touch, his eyes fluttering closed.

This was what it felt like to be cared for, to be cherished. Red needed to savour every last second of it, bury the feeling deep inside him, where perhaps he could bring it out again to marvel at when Wim and this wild adventure were but a memory.

The solid length pressing against Red’s hip drew him from his reverie.

Heat flooded his cheeks as he realized how selfish he’d been, lost in his own pleasure while Wim’s arousal went unattended.

Red’s fingertips tentatively brushed across its impressive length, drawing a sharp intake of breath from the wolf.

“I should… I mean, would you like me to… ?” Red cursed his fumbling words, but Wim’s gentle smile made his heart flutter.

“Only if you want to,” Wim murmured, pressing a soft kiss to Red’s temple. “This is more than enough.”

“I do want to,” Red said firmly, despite his burning cheeks. “Very much.” He stroked Wim's cock again from root to tip, relishing in its velvety feel, and Wim growled deeply.

“Won’t take much,” Wim rumbled, pressing his forehead against Red’s. “Those pretty sounds of yours have me very close already.”

Red made a small, indignant noise at being teased, but his protest died in his throat as he sank to his knees.

The forest floor was hard beneath him, twigs and leaves crunching as he settled into position.

His heart stumbled over itself as he reached for Wim’s hips, trying to steady his trembling fingers.

He’d done this before, of course, but never with someone so…

imposing. The stable master had been average at best, and Wim was…