Page 11 of Craving Red

I hook my fingers under the lace of her panties and drag them down her thighs, over her knees, and off her ankles. As I lean back in to finally taste her bare skin, the mattress groans. From the sound of friction and the shifting weight, she’s rolled over, retreating toward the center of the bed.

I let out a breathy laugh, pausing at the edge of the mattress. “Running away so soon?”

“Come and get me, Red,” she purrs, her voice echoing from slightly further away.

I lift my knees from the rug. “Do I really have to hunt you down all over again?” I crawl onto the bed on all fours, sweeping one hand out in front of me to find her warm skin. “I caught you once. I’ll catch you again.”

A sensation across my ass stops me dead in my tracks. Ticklish. It’s a delicate touch, barely a whisper of friction, dragging from one cheek to the other. The image from earlier flashes in my mind, and a laugh bubbles up in my chest. Such a beautifully orchestrated setup—the clues, the puzzle, the hunt. I had literally crawled blindfolded on my hands and knees right into her strike zone.

“I fucking adore you,” I whisper, shaking my head at how easily I fell into this particular trap. Yielding to this wolf is far too much fun.

“Right back at you,” Jo murmurs, the feathers tracing a maddening path down the inside of my thigh.

I drop my elbows to the mattress, arch my spine, and push my ass upward, offering myself completely to whatever comes next.

Part Two

Josephine Blake

She may be the one with the rules, but we both know who gets her to break them.

Chapter Seven

I used to think there was nothing more beautiful in this world than Alexandra on top of me, her head thrown back, riding me until we were both breathless.

I was wrong.

Because this—right this very moment—is the most breathtaking thing I have ever seen. Alex is bent over, her chest and face supported by pillows, that perfect ass presented to me like an offering. The blindfold stays firmly in place, keeping her in total darkness and completely at my mercy. I am fucking her from behind, my hips snapping forward in a relentless rhythm that pulls a constant stream of moans from her throat. My left hand is wrapped around both of her wrists, holding them pinned at the small of her back. The other grips her hip, pulling her onto me. She is completely surrendered to me. Her entire body is trembling. She’s incredibly close, hovering on the brink of an orgasm I refuse to let her have just yet.

“Jo… please… I cannot anymore,” she begs. The words tear out of her in broken bursts, high and raw. Her whimpers are, without a doubt, the most erotic sound in the universe.

I bring her back once more, slowing until I’m barely thrusting, switching instead to languid, deep circles of my hips that make her twitch against the pillow.

I’ve been edging her for a while now, keeping her suspended in this agonizing limbo. Myself as well. It’s not like I’ve had my release. Every time that familiar tightening starts to coil low in my belly, I ease off, because watching her like this—desperate, yielding—is better than any orgasm.

“Shh,” I murmur. “You’re doing so well, love.”

She makes a broken sound, trying to push back, to take more, but I hold her still with the hand on her wrists.

We retired Miss Dependable last month. A slightly drunken ceremony involving wine, laughter, and a toast to years of loyal, no-nonsense service. Both of us thanked her properly before packing her away. It was time for an upgrade.

I had been toying with the idea of a strap-on for a while. Being me, I did thorough research comparing dual-density silicone and harness reviews. When I presented the idea to Alex, complete with a persuasive argument, she’d just given me that slow, dangerous smile that still undoes me.

Our first few attempts using it were a bit clumsy. Too much laughter, straps that slipped, angles that made us both wince and collapse into a tangle of limbs. But I am nothing if not a quick study. I got more skilled, more confident, learning how to wield it to make Alex lose her mind.

The strap, who is yet to be named, is designed with an internal base that transfers sensation back to the wearer, and God, it works almost too well. Every slow circle sends another jolt through the base, grinding against me. I feel like I could burst every single second. I swallow it down. Not yet.

“Jo—”

We are both burning up, caught in the same relentless fire, pushing each other higher and higher.

“I know.” I pick up the pace again, just enough to make her gasp, then slow once more, circling, grinding, keeping her right there on that razor’s edge.

Her breath comes in ragged pants.

“I know, baby. Just a little longer. You’re so beautiful like this.”

“Please,” she whispers, voice cracking. “I can’t—”