Free Red & Wolfe Part 4: An Erotic Fairy Tale by Ella James Page B

them so wet and soft and tickles, teasing…
“Augh!” He’s so deep inside my asshole now.
Where the base of his fingers slam into my cunt, he drags his tongue.
I see stars.
“Tell me what you were made to do, fuck doll.”
I try to open my eyes, but I’m pushing my ass off the bed. Every time I move the finger there shifts.
I throw my legs open wide. I’m crying. Tugging at his hair.
“Lick me again! I need to come!”
He rocks his fingers deeper into me. Oh God he’s so deep. “Race…”
“Say it, Red. Tell me what you were made for and I’ll fill you with my cock.”
“I was…”
“You were made to fuck me, Red.” He laps mercilessly at my clit.
“I was made to fuck you!”
A heartbeat, and I’m empty. Cold. Confused.
Strong hands around my waist. I’m turned over. I feel his fingers on me briefly, then I’m pushed forward on hands and knees.
He slams into me like a torpedo. I sprawl forward, losing my grip on the mattress. I almost fall on my face, but he’s got me by the hips. His cock is pumping in and out so fast I see stars.
With each thrust, he comes at me at a slightly different angle, so he plows into a different spot inside. The vibrations ripple through my clit. I feel drunk with lust, like I can barely hold my head up.
“You’re such a good fuck, baby. So nice and wet and tight.”
I’m close to coming. So close I want to scream. I spread my legs wider and slump down on the sheets, letting my clit slide over them. Each thrust makes me lose a little more of my mind. I exist only for this. I’m noting but a pussy with a cock shoved deep inside me.
“Come now,” he says.
And I do.
     

CHAPTER ELEVEN
    WOLFE
     
We walk to the water in silence, sometime near dusk. After I took her one last time, I locked her in the cabin with a gun and checked on my company. I returned to the part of the island where I left Linn and his crew and found them gone. The man in the tree house is gone as well.
I don’t know what the fuck it means, but for now, I’m glad they’re nowhere near Red as I walk her to the boat.
When we reach the sand, I shift her bags on my back and step closer to her, so our hips bump. I take her hand in mine and hold it gently, memorizing the softness of her skin, the rhythm of her gait. The way her hair lifts off her shoulders, waving in the salty wind.
I set her bags down, hand her my gun, take off my shirt and jeans, and swim out to the boat. I pull my sore body up and over the side, and before I fire the motors, I look out at her. She’s my siren. She looks perfect with the island at her back.
I idle the boat over the cresting waves, and when I glide it onto the sand, she raises her hand to cover her eyes. I hop down and grab my clothes, her bags. I dress quickly in the boat and then step down to shore for her. I find her eyes wet and don’t know what to do. I wipe a tear off her cheek with my thumb. “What’s wrong, doll?”
“I don’t want to go.” She sniffs. “You need me here.”
 “I don’t need you, Red. I want you. I want you bad, but I can get by without you. And I will.”
“What if they come back?”
“That’s not your problem, baby.”
Before she can argue, I scoop her up and carry her into the boat. I sit her on a wooden bench behind the steering console and try to pretend I’m not remembering the first time I saw her, at the harbor dock.
I wonder what she’s thinking. She looks so damn small as she wraps her arms around herself. I get the boat running and point toward land. The wind is brisk—colder than normal, gusting from a flat gray sky. I stand behind the steering wheel, praying she’ll come up behind me and hoping she doesn’t. I want to feel her arms around me one more time, but I know for her, the faster she cuts ties with me, the better.
And then I feel her arm slide around my waist. Heat spreads through me like a drug, and I can’t help but put my arm around her shoulders and pull her up against my side.
The boat is bouncing under