In the Buff, Week 3

Well the gladiator one stalled a bit and my #1 idea didn’t get off the ground. I had wrote so much with no erotic touch, I needed to dive head first into the divine lustful naughtiness. Evernight has a call for submission around making fairytales sinfully delicious. One of my favorite tales to play with–I’ve already made a Sam Spadish story–is little Red Riding Hood. There’s so many ways to spin a fairytale, especially when genre comes into play. I had to go for it again. Since the original tale is French, I used a the geography from that and for the last names of the characters.

Now I don’t want to devulge too much on this one, so I’ll give you a little tease.

Off in the distance, the chiming of the midnight bells echoed from atop the church tower in town. The werewolf came out of hiding halfway through the melodious sound. Still naked except for the mask on his face, he croaked a finger at her as she stilled.

She stepped over the barrier of stones to stand in the middle of the circle. He paced around her, his nostrils flaring as he took in her scent. Slowly he pulled on the string to her cloak. He flicked it off her shoulders and it fell at her feet.

“Offer yourself to me.” He grinned.

Her brows knitted. Had she not already agreed to the bargain that he could have her? “How shall I do that? Have I not struck a bargain with you, wolf?”

“No, no.” He tsked. “After tonight, you shall refer to me as Master Ulric and do whatever I command or our contract shall be void.”

Her breath hitched. “But you said I only had to come tonight.”

“Did I?” He rubbed her arms and licked at the mark on her neck. Flaming heat coursed through her veins and she moaned. “Offer yourself to me.” He nipped harder but not enough to break the surface.

Her skin tingled and yearned for him to touch her in intimate places. The hunger building inside begged for her to comply. “Yes.” She groaned as his tongue licked the same spot. “I offer myself to you.”

“Wholly?”

“Yes.”

She unleashed the animal instinct in him and he pawed at her breasts, pinching the nipples and stretching them out. Pain and pleasure mingled as one. He forced her to the ground on all fours and spread her legs wide. One by one, he yanked her arms behind her back. The silky smooth bite of cloth rope pressed into her skin and secured her arms. Her face pressed into the ground, her body shivered at what he might do next and the fear in the pit of her stomach fueling the wetness between her legs.

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