Page 11 of Red

7.

Predator

He made her upset. Fuck, I want to break every single bone in his body, slowly and painfully to make him suffer as I do so. Though, comforting her is my top priority right now.

She’s holding back tears, I can tell, and it makes my insides twist. I feel even more sick knowing what a scumbag he truly is. It’s going to break her heart when she finds out the truth, I just know it.

I need to hold her so badly, but instead I pretend to be her pet—which I don’t mind, in all honesty. I can be whatever she wants me to be. Julia might see it differently when I finally come clean, however.

She rubs my belly for a bit longer as I lay onmy back, trying not to get hard, or even worse, shift. That’s just fucking embarrassing when she baby talks me, but I can’t help getting excited in response to such tenderness in this form.

Thankfully, she lets me be before I fully lose it, and finishes unpacking the bags, then collects the laundry—completely unaware this bastard is still sitting in his truck outside her house.

He now knows who I am, no question about that. But he must’ve concluded how useless it’d be to challenge me alone, because he eventually gives up and drives away.

He’ll be certainly prepared next time.

And so will I.

Julia discovers the unexpected gift I left for her. I watch how she frantically tries to convince herself that somehow it’s her who made all that thick and sticky mess on her underwear. Like most humans, she’s conditioned to always find a reasonable explanation instead of trusting her own instincts. Yet, there’s nothing reasonable about her train of thoughts right now.

If she realized the danger she’s in, would she try to escape?

After changing the sheets and towels, she starts the washing machine before walking into the kitchen. She gets stakes ready for both ofus—mine with no seasoning, which is far better than the dog food she tried to feed me with, and I can’t complain.

We eat together; her at the table and me on the floor, but I’m an animal to her, after all. I’ve already gotten used to hunting and eating raw meat straight from the source, however, a home cooked meal is still more enjoyable. It keeps me human, I suppose.

When we both finish, she washes up after dinner, then transfers her clean laundry into the dryer. Before she picks up a small parcel box, which was delivered at the door earlier today. She shimmies to her bedroom with it. Intrigued to see what got her so excited, I follow.

It’s an unknown to me electronic device, but by the shape and size of it, I think I have an idea what it’s for.

Such a naughty little girl.

She walks withthe thinginto the bathroom and cleanses it thoroughly under the sink before plugging it to the wall outlet by the cord back in her room. Leaving it on her nightstand, she goes to take a shower in meantime.

Like a freak that I obviously am, I watch her through a cracked door. Seeing her for the first time exceeds all my fantasies. I knew she’d besensational, but her naked figure is so fucking mind-blowing I find it impossible to hold the wolf shape. Feeling dizzy, I impulsively phase, yet my eyes remain laser-focused on her.

She washes her hair; the wet strands of her normally tight curls are long enough to hit her waistline. Next, she uses a small razor to shave her legs and privates before scrubbing her entire body.

While the overhead waterfall is still on, she turns on the smaller, handheld wand to rinse off all the suds before directing it between her legs. And now I get why she might prefer it over her bathtub since the water pressure must be nice.

I really shouldn’t be seeing this, but I also can’t stop looking. I feel the rush of blood south, and my dick quickly begins to stiffen, extruding from its sheath.

She moans, the sound reverberates through the acoustics of her tiled bathroom. Even all the aromas of her shower products aren’t enough to dim the distinct scent of her arousal.

That’s it; this is my moment. I should reveal myself.

No, I’d probably cause her a heart attack if I suddenly appeared under her shower, starved to mate.

To tell the truth, somewhere at the bottom also lays my insecurity that she won’t be able to accept a monstrosity like me.

Thankfully—for me, not for her—she isn’t able to reach the climax. She accepts the defeat as she turns off the water and steps out of the glass cabin, wrapping a towel around herself. She moves toward the mirror above the sink, conditions her hair, combs it, then plops it. After which, she proceeds with some facial skincare regimen before she begins to rub lotion all over her body.

My palms burn to touch her silky-soft skin, and I’m unable to endure it any longer. I rush to the hallway where I start to pace around, trying to restore my composure.

Of course that’d be just my luck to be stuck here during her pampering night!

I collapse onto the floor against the wall to her bedroom, still too jittery to shift back. She’s only having a self-care moment, and I’m acting like a possessed maniac.

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