Thanks to @AuthorMilliGib and @Mreauow for another #wordsprints challenge!
The 700 words which follow are a continuation of the sex scene snippet I wrote here. As before, this is a raw, unedited snippet.
Context: I’m developing a series of alternate filthy fairy tales, of the ‘what happened after happily ever after’ variety. This is our Little Red Riding Hood all grown up, walking through the forest to Granny’s house a few years after the attack from which the woodcutter saved her. She’s not supposed to leave the path, but when she hears a woman in distress, how can she not go to her aid?
Before she could even think to struggle, a low voice whispered in her ear. “They are a sight. Enough to stir a fire in anyone’s belly.” A puff of air tickled her ear when he chuckled, the sound husky, masculine. Insufferably arrogant. He—whoever he was—crowded her against the tangled thicket, small branches poking into her hips. His hand was larger, the fingers reaching beyond the tips of her own feeling as though they’d burn a hole through the heavy fabric of her dress.
She jerked her head sideways, trying to get out from under his hold. He let her, the hand over her mouth shifting to the side of her neck, sliding her hair out of the way for a pair of warm lips to nestle close. “Were you about to ease the ache, my sweet? I can help.” His palm slipped down over her belly, long fingertips pressing just at the top of her mound. Combined with the way he nibbled the tender curve of her ear, it sent an unwilling thrill through her.
“What are you doing?” she hissed. “Stop, at once.” Mellie grabbed at his wrist, trying to shift his touch away from down there. Why am I not scared out of my mind? A man, a stranger, had grabbed her from behind, touched her without permission; he was bigger, stronger, and bent on doing who knows what to her.
And yet some part of her—some indecently large part of her—wanted to melt into him and find out if he knew how to ease this ache.
“You don’t really mean that, sweeting.” She felt more than heard the words he murmured against the curve of her jaw. “Why don’t you spread your legs and…” He was rubbing suggestive circles, each one going a bit lower, until the very nadir of his next circle brushed over a place of such blazing sensitivity that the pleasure shuddered through her center.
The pleasure shocked her out of whatever spell he’d cast. Jerking sideways, falling to her knees when he let her go, she scrambled away, racing back toward the path, expecting at any moment to be grabbed again from behind, tumbled to the forest floor and ravished.
She heard no footsteps behind her, felt no breath hot on her neck. She stumbled onto the shoulder and bent forward, gasping for breath, and cast her eyes up and down the rutted track. There. Her basket was there, ten paces ahead. Dashing for it, snatching it up by the handle, she raced for the phantom safety of Granny’s lane.
She fixed her attention on the big pine tree with the crooked branch shaped like a lightning bolt, the one that should have been chopped down years ago lest it brain some unwary traveler, and ran. Ran so fast she had to fling herself left and hop sideways when she reached the turn. Ran full-out, chest heaving for breath, blood thundering in her ears. The lane crooked right ahead, and already she caught glimpses of the cabin through the trees, woodsmoke a tickle in her nostrils. She chanced a backward glance, unable to bear the suspense any longer, and found the lane behind her empty.
Relief weakened her knees, almost tripped her, the basket banging awkwardly against her hip. Which was when she realized…She’d left her cloak behind. It had snagged on a branch and she’d let it go, thinking to get it on her way back to the road. Oh, bugger.
She spun around, the basket swinging wide at the abrupt reversal of forward momentum.
Should she go back?
No! No, she couldn’t go back. He might be waiting. Lurking.
Why would he be waiting? He could have no idea she’d return. He’d be long gone, in search of the next girl idiot enough to leave the path. He probably accosted women all day long. No doubt hoping that if he persisted long enough, one would eventually fall into his arms.
Indecision spun her in dizzying circles. Go back? Take a risk?
The next time she faced toward Granny’s cabin, an enormous wolf sat on the path ten feet from her, her green cloak dangling from its muzzle.