Free Isabel and the Wolf: (Part 2) by Ariana Hawkes

cautious gulp. It was rich and delicious. Peter bumped his cup against hers.
    “From Romania, with love,” he said.
    “This is Romanian wine?”
    “Yes. I get it imported. It’s some of the best in Europe, but hardly anyone knows this.”
    “I’m very impressed. My experience of European wine extends to French, Italian and Spanish.”
    “Our wine is purer. We don’t use lots of fertilizers that contaminate the land.”
    ‘So, it’s like, organic?”
    “Yes, exactly,” he said. Isabel took a bigger gulp and watched as he took some meat out of the bag and put it on the wire rack, just out of reach of the flames. On an empty stomach, the alcohol was making her pleasantly woozy. Before long, a delicious scent of barbecued steak filled the air.
    “How do you like it?” Peter asked. “And please don’t tell me ‘well done’?”
    “No – rare works for me.”
    “Perfect.” Peter snatched the steaks from the grill and put them on metal plates. Then he produced a salt and pepper grinder from somewhere and seasoned them well.
    “You think of everything!” Isabel said.
    “I just wanted to make sure you enjoyed the experience of having dinner out here,” he replied, with a flicker of self-consciousness. “I’ve got salad too.” Plastic containers of beans, tomatoes and cucumbers were tipped onto her plate, and he passed her some cutlery. Isabel took another gulp of her wine and cut into the meat. It was incredible, by far the best steak she’d ever tasted. Peter acknowledged her praise, looking pleased.
    They spoke little as they ate, Isabel consumed by the full sensual experience of the barbecue in the forest. He ate quickly, with pleasure, and Isabel noticed that his portion was three times the size of hers, but he still finished before she did.
    “Your appetite would put all my guy friends to shame!” she couldn’t resist saying.
    “Oh, really?” He seemed embarrassed. “I burn a lot of energy, I guess.”
    “It wasn’t a criticism, I was more impressed. I like a guy with a healthy appetite,” she said, laying a hand on his thigh. He smiled at her.
    “Let’s digest for a while,” he said, and took her plate from her. He moved all the food utensils away from them, and pulled her down onto the skins, holding her from behind. Isabel sighed, absolutely content. Looking straight up, she could barely make out the stars in the sky between the tree branches and the moon was off-center and obscured by a cloud. Everything else away from the fire was blackness. It was soothing being safe in the arms of The Wolf in the midst of the dark unknown. After a while, Peter began to hum a tune, something ancient and foreign-sounding. It was beautiful and sad and lonely, and it went on for a long time without any break or noticeable change to another tune.
    “Did you like it when I smacked your ass, Bella?” he asked suddenly. Isabel’s breath caught in her chest. A dart of fire shot all the way down between her thighs. No-one had asked her about her darkest fantasies before, and she felt like she didn’t have enough breath to answer him.
    “Yes,” she managed at last. His hand moved onto her ass, and he stroked both of her firm, high globes.
    “I had the feeling you did,” he said. “Have you done this before?”
    “No,” she said in a small voice.
    “Ah, just a fantasy.” He continued stroking her ass. It was arousing, relaxing and vulnerable all at the same time. She held herself motionless, hoping as much as fearing he was going to spank her again.
    “Maybe I would hurt you too much, Bella,” he growled in her ear. She made a sound, unsure what to articulate, thinking of the hugeness of his hands. Gradually, so she’d barely noticed, he’d maneuvered her body so that she was on her front, lying over his thighs. His fingertips continued to trace over her cheeks, writing letters, maybe entire words. “Why did you make a profile on the website?” he asked.
    “Uh – ” Isabel faltered,