Page 27 of Big Bad Wolf

“I should probably wash this, too,” I say, lifting the hem slightly, cheeks warming just a little when I notice the streaky off-white stain from where Wolf ‘marked’ me.

Wolf’s answering growl is instant.

My first night in Blackmoor, I might’ve whimpered to hear it, then started to look for the nearest exit. Now? I look over at Wolf.

His shoulders are hunched, his fingers clenched into tight fists. He sucks in a breath, then suddenly he’s right there, claws flexing before he closes his hand over mine, gently tugging the dirty night dress back in place.

“No.”

I tilt my head. “Sorry? I thought you said ‘no’.”

He nods. “Do not wash this.”

“But it’s dirty,” I point out.

“So? It smells like Wolf. That means Red smells like Wolf. Wash Red’s skin. Wash her cunt. That is fine with Wolf because he will only make it dirty again later. But until he marks Red again, she must wear this.” He lets go of my hand, plucking at his pants. “And Wolf will wear these.”

He’s so close. I mean, he’s right there. And I don’t know what exactly he means when he says I smell like him, but if walking around with his jizz on this dress has me smelling half as good as his woodsy, wild musk, that’s not such a bad thing. He’s not wrong about how I got him to wear pants for me when I highly doubt he ever does. Hell, I’m pretty sure, before I came along, he spent most of his time as a wolf on four legs instead of a wolf-man on two, so maybe it’s fair. Maybe it’s the least I can do.

Or maybe I’m beginning to see the merits of walking around without panties on—or when Wolf gets to go au natural instead of stuffing his cock and his tail into a pair of pants to make me happy.

The more I think about it, the more I think I should do something about that. Maybe see if I could borrow scissors and cut a hole in the back for him to slip his tail through. But Wolf has claws. That magic dresser drawer of his probably wouldn’t be able to provide scissors when there’s a good chance he doesn’t even know what they are.

Well… look at that. His tail might be all kinked up and uncomfortable, shoved in those pants. Really, it’s just doing him a kindness when I tell him, “I’ll keep the dress on, but I was thinking… your poor tail.” Your poor dick. “It can’t feel good, trapped in those pants. Maybe… maybe it’s okay… since it’s just you and me, Wolf… maybe you give it a break and take those pants off again.”

His face goes thoughtful. Yeah, yeah. He’s a lot smarter than you’d guess from first look at his monstrous appearance, and he knows that—this time—I’m the one who might be playing a little. He knows that, and he also knows better than to look a gift horse in the mouth.

Without another moment’s hesitation, he uses his claw to slash another pair of trousers to ribbons.

I gulp, knowing that I’m playing with fire… and I like it. Just like I can’t stop myself from checking out his lower half—or squeezing my thighs together when I see that… yup… with that monster-sized erection, he needs all the space he can get.

I force my gaze to his face. “How’s that? Your tail, I mean… does it feel better?’

Wolf growls softly. “Let Wolf show Red how his tail feels now.”

What?

Oh.

Oh.

With the first caress, his tail brushes against my leg. He sweeps it along my outer thigh, using the tip to lift my nightie up until it’s hiked up over my hip. Shifting his stance, he does the same to the other side. Then, once he’s bared my pussy to him, he uses his tail to prod at the point where my legs are closed.

I gulp. “Wolf?”

His answer is a determined rumble deep in his chest.

Yup. Definitely playing with fire, but, oh, do I love the way it burns… and, just in case, I’m going to throw a little more wood to the fuel the flames.

“You know… I just got clean.”

“Wolf knows. And he said he will enjoy dirtying up his mate again. So open, Red. Open for your male.”

Well, when he puts it like that, how can I refuse?

Reaching out, falling forward until I’m braced against his chest, I move my legs apart, giving him access to any part of me he can reach.

His tail dips between my legs, stroking against my entire slit. I shudder and groan, especially when he does that tail-wagging thing I like as he plays with the top of my mound, searching for my clit because he knows damn well that, once he does, I’ll let him do whatever he wants.