Page 17 of Ravaging Red
“I promise, I will tell you everything. I just need some time to like… register everything. Because I don’t even know if what I saw was real or a part of my imagination.”
“Okay, but just promise you’ll come see me soon.”
“I will. Soon.”
I quickly hung up and took a deep breath. I knew there’d be more questions in the days coming, but I needed time to think. Because I didn’t even know how to answer half those questions without sounding completely out of my mind.
I stared out the kitchen window, my eyes searching the entrance of those woods, both fearing and hoping he’d appear, that I’d see him once again and know for certain that I hadn’t just dreamed him up. That I too wasn’t going senile.
Every inch of my skin was alert, tight with sensation, and I felt a familiar heat radiate through my body. I slowly headed upstairs, where the hallway seemed to stretch, just leading me further into darkness. My bedroom door was cracked open. Nothing had changed. Not visibly. But everything was different now. I was different.
I wasn’t going to be able to sleep. Not because I was afraid, but because I wasaching. Even with the windows closed, I swore I could smell him. That thick, musky, dominant scent that clung to my skin even after I’d run, even after I’d crossed through that strange barrier between his world and mine.
I stripped off my torn clothes and let them fall into a heap on the bathroom floor. I then stepped under the steaming water, bracing my hands against the cool tile. I tilted my head down, letting the spray hit my neck and shoulders, but the heat did nothing to wash away the need still coiled deep inside me.
My breasts were heavy and tender, nipples drawn tight. My thighs were slick from far more than just sweat. My clit throbbed with a pulse all its own.
I closed my eyes, and I saw him.
Rael.
He'd towered over me; a monstrous silhouette carved from shadow and fairy tales. His body was a brutal masterpiece. Broad and powerful, muscles rippling beneath skin that stretched taut over a warrior’s frame. Each ridge of his abs flexed with every breath he took, gleaming slightly in that blood red moonlight like something sculpted by some ungodly, primal desire.
He was snarling, teeth sharp and white, a monster after all. Yet there was a grin hidden beneath it, feral and knowing. I knew he could scent me and knew what he’d done to me. And as much as I didn’t want to admit it, he already owned every trembling inch of my fear and my body.
He was oddly handsome, but not in a delicate way. His features were rough, sharp with wild masculinity. A long snout was dusted with soft black fur, the bridge of it looked like it had been broken once and healed slightly crooked. He had sharp cheekbones and a long tongue, which he kept licking at his lips with. As if drooling for a meal.
His eyes were soft, almost tender in contrast to everything else, glowing with that unnatural red hue that flickered like firelight.
Even in all that danger, there was something devastatingly alluring about him. He was a nightmare wrapped in the shape of a warrior, and I wasn’t sure if I wanted to run or beg him to take me.
And then I remembered that cock…
Gods, that cock.
It was thick, long, and veined, a deep red from where the blood rushed to the tip, engorging it. It twitched as it pressed against his belly, the head swollen and leaking, looking pained as if it washurtingwith need.
I imagined it pulsing in his fist, his claws just barely grazing the base, the way the knot at the root swelled when he drew near. He'd stroke himself slowly, growling my name, head thrown back as precum dripped onto his abs.
I pressed two fingers to my clit and rubbed in small, slow circles. I bit my lip to keep from moaning too loud. I felt disgusted by my eagerness for this monster, yet a hot thrill shot through me as I thought about how a male could be so animalistically feral about his mate. I was curious about what my body could handle when cradled in his massive hands.
I pictured kneeling in front of him, palms flat on his thighs, his fur brushing my cheeks as I leaned in. His voice, both rough and cruel, as he grabbed my hair and whispered, “Open your mouth, little Red. You're going to choke on this knot and love every fucking second of it.”
My fingers slid lower, sinking inside of me. I pumped them slowly, fingers slick from how wet I already was, two deep inside me, curling just enough to make me gasp. I tried to breathe through it, tried to let the fantasy take over.
It was him,not me. Not my fingers.
Rael.
The image of him burned behind my eyelids. Towering. Snarling. Possessive. That monster of a cock so thick and hard I could feel the stretch by just picturing it. I fantasized about the ache, the sharp sting of that first push, the wide mushroomed head breaching me, the way his knot would swell and force me open until I couldn't take any more but stillwantedmore.
I imagined him grabbing my hips and snarling into my neck, panting like an animal in heat as he thrust so deep, I couldn'tbreathe, couldn’t think, couldn’tbeanything but his. My clit throbbed beneath my fingers, tight and swollen and sensitive. My pussy clenched around my hand, soaked and eager.
I moaned into the water.
“Fuuuck, Rael…”
But nothing came.
