Page 26 of Big Bad Wolf

CHAPTER 9

GOOD BOY

By the time he feeds me lunch on my third day in Blackmoor, I should be figuring out what the hell I’m going to do when tomorrow comes and my time in the forest is over.

I should definitely be trying to make sense of how I went from insisting that I wasn’t going to let Wolf fuck me to not only telling him I was ready out in the woods, to then getting curious enough about that weird knot thing he has at the base of his cock that I initiated sex again myself last night once we were back at the cottage… and then when I woke up to him lapping at my pussy and, well, I couldn’t let his erection go to waste this morning, could I?

I don’t know exactly what is causing it—even if he’s insistent that the forest gave me to him to be his long-awaited mate—but I guess I kind of do blame this strange connection I feel toward Wolf. This tug that seems to have me moving toward him rather than running away. Sure, I tell myself that it doesn’t matter. That if I wanted to go, he’s already proven that he’ll chase right after me. I might as well stay where it’s warm, where I’m fed, where all I have to do is run my fingers through the fur on his tail and he’ll take me then and there as though he can’t get enough of me…

I can’t stay. Deep down, he has to understand that. Not like I’ve told him so… but if he’s one of the beasts of Blackmoor, he has to know. But if it makes him happy to take care of his mate any way he can, who am I to stop him?

And that’s why I’m currently sitting on the edge of his nest on the floor, eating seared meat—that I try not to question since I have no idea what sort of animal Wolf hunted to bring me back fresh meat—that he cooked for me over the fire in the grate like this is normal.

Like this could be normal.

Like maybe I might have found my happy-ever-after with the villain of poor Little Red’s story…

Wolf crouches low to the ground, resting on his back paws, watching as I eat. As much as he has discovered that he enjoys mating more than because it’s some kind of instinct to his wolfish side, he also gets obvious pleasure out of caring for me. Whenever I eat something that he presents to me, whether it’s questionable meat, bread, cheese, or a Wolf-sized handful of cracked nuts, he preens and grins around his mouthful of fangs while his tail lashes back and forth.

Fuck it, it wags, and if that makes him even more dog-like to me, I don’t care. In some ways, he’s absolutely adorable. In others, he’s scorching hot. I don’t think I’ve ever been worshipped that way that Wolf does it, and when I see the bulge pressing against another pair of those conjured linen pants he wears because I asked him to, it’s all I can do to stop myself from reminding him that pants go down.

Ripping my gaze from his junk, I meet the earnest look in his golden eyes.

“You like it,” he says, proud of himself that I’m eating his food.

I glance up at him, chewing. “I do. I mean, I don’t know what it is… and I kind of don’t want to… but it’s good. Thank you, Wolf.”

He tilts his head.

“Red is fed.”

“Yes, I’m fed,” I agree, trying to hide my amused smile and probably failing. “Gold star for you.”

His mouth curves around his fangs. I know it’s not because he understands my sarcastic quip that might not have been as sarcastic as I mean it, but because he’s happy that I’m happy.

Afterward, he disappears outside and returns with water. Not just a cup for me to drink out of, either, but—thanks to his glorious muscles—it’s more than enough to fill the large brass basin he magically made appear out of nowhere yesterday. With a single-minded determination, he drags the full basin closer to the hearth, using the fire to warm the water inside carefully before setting it in front of me like it’s the most natural thing in the world for him to do.

“For Red,” he says. “So Wolf’s mate can wash her hands and she won’t shiver.”

I blink, surprised even though I watched him go through the motions in undisguised interest. “You did this for me?”

He nods. “Wolf saw his mate shake after washing up before. Red likes to be clean. Wolf will make sure she can be clean whenever she wants and stay warm, too.”

He… he noticed the water was too chilly for me? And, instead of thinking I was weak for it, he came up with a solution for me? I mean, yeah, I’d kill for a shower right now, but a quick scrub with this basin sounds heavenly… and he did it for me?

My heart does a flip-flop inside of my chest. Shit. No one… no one ever does anything like this for me. What is he doing? What kind of game is Wolf playing?

None, I know. One look at his face and I know that, like everything else, he’s just tending to his mate. He doesn’t realize that such a sweet gesture isn’t just going to get him inside my nonexistent panties.

Oh, no. Something like that will make it way too fucking easy for him to worm his way straight into my heart.

I purposely push that realization aside so that I can dip my hands into the water instead, sighing softly as the warmth sinks into my skin.

“Okay,” I murmur. “This is… this is really nice, Wolf.”

Though he doesn’t respond, Wolf watches me wash in the basin like it’s just as important as watching me eat. Like it matters. Like I fucking matter. He even brings over something that he adds to the water, forming bubbles. It’s no kind of soap I’ve ever seen, but, in Blackmoor, it does the job and I enjoy seeing the dirt and grime of the forest slough off as I get clean. Hands… pits… feet… thanks to a scrap of fabric that Wolf provides when I ask, I’m as fresh as I can be after only one change of water.

Once I finish my impromptu bath, I look down at the black nightie. Yikes. It’s a disaster, and I don’t just mean because I slept in it for two nights straight, plus I also ran through the woods in it twice.