Page 13 of Scarlett’s Wicked Wolf (Filthy Fairy-tales #1)
Reid
She runs like wildfire. Red-gold fur streaming, paws barely touching the forest floor, the moonlight painting her every motion in silver. The bond between us thrums, alive and bright, tugging at something deep under my ribs.
She glances back once, her eyes catching mine with a challenge that flashes like lightning—and then she’s gone, a streak of scent and sound through the trees.
My pulse spikes. I give chase.
The forest blurs into bark, wind, and her heartbeat. All I know is her. Her scent, her rhythm, the place where her paw prints dig into the earth, a breath before mine. I could catch her easily, but I don’t. I want her to feel the thrill of the hunt. I want her to need it.
She veers left through a stand of pines. I follow, silent as a shadow. She hears me. Her ears twitch and her stride lengthens. She’s fast and fierce, but the bond gives her away. I can feel every flicker of her pulse through the invisible thread tying us together.
Time to capture my prey.
I bound forward, and the air bursts out of both of us as I hit her flank, rolling her into a bed of moss. She twists under me, snarling, teeth flashing white, but her tail sweeps low, her body arching against mine in submission.
I growl in satisfaction as she yields, tipping her head and baring her throat. I press my muzzle to the hollow there, my breath mixing with hers. The forest hums around us, thick with her scent.
Shift, I tell her through our bond.
She does
It starts as an ember under her skin before spilling outward. Her body trembles as bones shift and fur gives way to skin.
I answer, allowing the change to roll through me, letting it take me. When it’s done, I’m standing on the soft grass, human again, the air cool on my sweat-damp skin.
Scarlett turns toward me, breath quick, moonlight tangled in her wild hair.
For a long moment, we drink each other in.
My mate doesn’t hide. She lifts her chin, shoulders back, letting me see every inch like she knows I’ll memorize it.
She’s all pale curves and promise. Thick thighs braced in the grass.
Luscious hips my hands itch to grip as she rides me.
Soft stomach I want to trace with my mouth.
Dimples at the base of her spine leading to the ripe curve of her ass.
Full breasts tipped with dusky peaks tight from the night air and the way I’m watching her.
Moonlight catches the faint sheen of sweat on her collarbone and slides along the bite mark at her throat—my mark—a claim that beats with her pulse.
And then there’s her beautiful face—green eyes wide and bright with hunger, lips parted. Strands of red hair cling to her cheeks and throat, a wild halo that makes the wolf in me bare its teeth in worship.
Her gaze moves over me without shame, without hesitation.
Not the quick flick of someone startled by nudity, but the steady, quiet study of someone who wants to know every angle of me.
My pulse stumbles. The wolf in me straightens, uncertain what to do with a gaze that powerful and kind at the same time.
Scarlett’s eyes sweep down, taking in the long lines the hunt carved into me—the scars, the lean strength that doesn’t hide what it is. My body has always been a weapon, but under her eyes it becomes something else entirely. Her look doesn’t strip; it honors.
She lingers on my hands, the ones that have killed as a wolf and now tremble because they want only to touch her gently. Her mouth parts slightly, and I see the flicker of heat in her eyes, threaded with wonder.
For a second, I see myself the way she must: a creature of two natures—flesh and fur, man and beast—made whole again in her gaze.
Then her gaze drops to my cock, and she licks her lips. I almost spill there on the forest floor.
I grit my teeth to maintain control as she steps closer. When her hand finally lifts to rest on my chest, it’s with the same quiet reverence I feel when I touch her.
“You’re beautiful,” she says softly. “Not beautiful like something perfect or polished. Beautiful like something real.”
I cover her hand with mine, letting her feel the truth of my pulse beneath her palm. “So are you.”
Her chin tilts a notch higher, heat flickering through her gaze. “Touch me.”
The forest holds its breath. The world narrows to her pulse at her throat, to the way she accepts me without hesitation.
“Scarlett.” Her name burns in my mouth, reverent and rough. My words seem too small for what’s in my chest. “I love you.”
She smiles. “And I love you, my wonderful, wicked wolf.”
The distance between us disappears.
I claim her mouth, slowly at first, coaxing her to open for me, then deeper as heat curls through and tightens into something needier. Her hands map my shoulders, the dip of my spine, the hard thrust of my cock against her belly.
Easing her down onto the soft moss, I kneel between her knees. My fingers skate the inside of her thigh, barely there, until her hips roll on instinct.
“Here?” I ask, my knuckles ghosting over her slick heat.
Scarlett whimpers. “Please.”
Gods, please is a holy word in her mouth.
I part her with my thumbs and lower my mouth.
The first taste wrecks me—salt and musk and wildflowers.
I drag my tongue slowly, flattening it against her clit.
She arches and releases a soft moan that travels straight to the base of my spine.
I keep my movements lazy until her hips start to chase me, then focus, circling, sealing my mouth, and sucking until her clit pulses against my tongue.
I press one finger inside her slowly, then two, curling them to brush that place that makes her see stars.
“Look at me,” I demand, voice wrecked against her skin. “I want to watch you come. I want you looking at me when you do.”
Her emerald eyes lock onto mine. I hold her gaze and work her apart—patiently, relentlessly—until her hips chase my hand, until the ache is a bright string I pluck and pluck and—
“Reid—”
“That’s it, little wolf. Give it to me.”
She does. She gives me everything as she breaks, wild and messy, my name scattered across the clearing. I work her through it, patient and relentless, until I’ve ridden the last tremor on my tongue, until she shakes and sags and pushes my head with helpless little gasps.
I kiss the inside of her thigh, her hip, then crawl up her body, my mouth finding hers. She tastes herself on my tongue and moans into it.
Catch her wrists with one hand, I pin them above her head, and sink into her slowly. Inch by delicious inch. Watching her face as she opens for me. The heat and stretch drag a moan from both of us.
“Good?” I grind out through gritted teeth.
“So good,” she gasps, tilting her hips to take me deeper. “More.”
I give her more.
I set a rhythm I can hold, and then I break it, rolling my hips until I’m hitting exactly where my fingers were, until she’s clutching me like she’ll fall through the earth if I stop.
I free one hand to slide between us, finding her clit with my thumb and rubbing tight circles that make her eyes go heavy and bright at once.
“Eyes,” I order softly when they flutter closed. “On me.”
She does. The bond hums hot and honest between us. She starts to climb again. I feel it in the flex of her inner muscles around me and the way her breath becomes high and thin.
“Tell me you’re close,” I beg, voice splintering. “Need you to come with me.”
She doesn’t answer. She can’t because the tremors take her, and she seizes with another orgasm. I follow, groaning into her mouth, my cock locked deep inside her as my release shudders through me. We stay there, fused and shaking, breathing each other, loving each other.
I eventually ease to my side, keeping her pulled into my chest, still buried inside her, my hand smoothing up and down her spine.
“You run,” I murmur into her hair, drowsy and awed, “and I’ll follow. Every time.”
Scarlett smiles against my throat, sated and humming. “Then chase me again tomorrow.”
I laugh, low and wicked. “At dawn.”
“Dusk,” she counters, nipping my mouth.
I grin. “Both, my little wolf. Both.”
I kiss her until the forest forgets we were ever anything but human, until the night goes soft around us, and the only wild thing left is the way she says my name.
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