WARNING: M RATED

  I should’ve known better than to take the forest path.

  Mama warned me about it every damn time I set foot outside our cabin. “Take the long road,” she’d scold, wagging her finger. “Stay where the sun touches the ground. And if you hear something behind you—don’t turn around.”

  But today? I was restless. Hot. Aching in pces I didn’t want to admit. And the shortcut whispered to me through the trees like a secret lover. I was wearing my red cloak, the one that clung tight to my waist and let my thighs breathe. Grandma liked it. Said I looked grown.

  The basket swung at my side, full of bread and honey. But something else was swinging beneath my skirt—something no man in the vilge had touched.

  I stepped off the path.

  The trees swallowed the sunlight fast. The deeper I went, the more it felt like the forest was breathing. The air was thick. Wet. Like it knew what I was thinking.

  That's when I heard it.

  Not footsteps. Not quite. More like... paws. Heavy, padded, slow. My breath caught as I turned, cloak fluttering.

  He stood in the shadows like he’d always belonged there.

  Seven feet of fur, muscle, and hunger. A wolf—but not. Not fully. His eyes were golden, too human. His snout twitched like he could smell the heat between my thighs. And the thing swinging between his legs—gods, I didn’t even know a man could be built like that.

  “You're far from the path, little one,” he rumbled. Voice like velvet dragged over gravel. “Does your mama know how wet you get when you lie?”

  My mouth parted, but no sound came. My legs didn’t run. I think… I didn’t want them to.

  He circled me slowly, eyes drinking me in like a starving thing.

  “I—I’m just going to my grandmother’s,” I stammered, clutching the basket like it could save me.

  He leaned in, nose brushing my hair, my neck. His breath was hot. Animal.

  “Grandma can wait,” he growled. “You smell like you need something else first.”

  I should’ve screamed.Should’ve run.

  But my knees were jelly and my panties were soaked through—clinging to me like a second skin. The wolf could smell it. I knew he could. His nostrils fred with every breath he took, his chest rising slow and heavy like he was savoring me.

  “Such a sweet little thing…” he murmured, cws ghosting over the curve of my hip. “Why walk into the woods if you didn’t want to be hunted?”

  “I didn’t—” My voice broke when he grabbed my wrist and pressed it against the tree behind me. Not hard enough to hurt. Just to remind me.

  I wasn’t in control anymore.

  He sniffed down my throat, teeth grazing my skin. My whole body tensed when his tongue—long, hot, and way too dexterous—dragged along my colrbone.

  “Liar,” he growled into my neck.

  Then he tore the cloak open.

  Not ripped—tore. Like it was paper. My chest spilled out, nipples hard from the cold and the rush of adrenaline. His eyes dropped and stayed there. He didn’t ask. He didn’t need to.

  His tongue circled one nipple and I gasped—sharp, high-pitched. My back arched without thinking. His hand was already between my thighs, palming the heat he’d been tracking since I entered the woods.

  “Dripping,” he snarled. “You want to be ruined, don’t you?”

  My eyes rolled back as his fingers rubbed me through the soaked cotton. There was no hiding the way I moaned, hips grinding down like I needed it deeper. I hated how badly I wanted him to break me open.

  Then he hooked a cw and sliced straight through my panties.

  I gasped. He dropped to his knees like a predator worshiping its prey. His tongue slid between my folds—so warm and wet, it made my legs shake. He devoured me. Sloppy, loud, unholy. Like he was starving for me.

  I tried to grab his ears, to push him away—but he growled against my clit, and the vibrations sent me over the edge. I cried out, my thighs cmping around his head as I came—hard and shamefully fast.

  But he wasn’t done.

  He stood, towering over me. That thick, heavy length hung between his legs, already hard and twitching.

  “You came just from my tongue,” he said, voice full of dark pride. “Now you’ll come on my cock.”

  I trembled.

  “W-wait—”

  He bent me over the tree before I could finish, his cws raking lightly over my back as he aligned himself.

  Then I felt it. The pressure. The stretch.

  He was too big. It wouldn’t fit. But he pushed anyway, slow but unrelenting.

  I gasped. Moaned. Whimpered.

  And he growled, “Take it. You wanted the wolf—you get all of him.”

  The pressure was insane.

  He split me open inch by inch, a thick, pulsing heat pushing deeper than anything human ever could. My fingers cwed at the bark, trying to anchor myself, but there was no mercy in him now—just instinct and possession.

  “So tight,” he growled behind me. “Your little hole’s choking me—gods, you were made for this.”

  I whimpered something between a sob and a moan. It hurt, but it hurt good. My pussy stretched to fit him, slick dripping down my thighs like I’d been fucked raw already. And he wasn’t even all the way in yet.

  Then he thrust.

  I screamed.

  He buried himself to the hilt, his knot swelling thick at the base—and I swore I could feel every vein, every twitch. I tried to crawl forward but he grabbed my hips and smmed me back onto him. Again. And again. Wet sps filled the forest, filthy and relentless.

  “Where’s your fear now, little Red?” he snarled into my ear, breath hot against my neck. “Ran into the woods like a slut in heat and now you’re dripping down my cock like you asked for this.”

  “I—I didn’t—” I gasped, but my voice betrayed me. My moans were needy, fucked out.

  “No?” he growled. “Then why’s this greedy cunt sucking me in like it never wants to let go?”

  He rammed into me harder, his knot pressing against my entrance on every thrust, threatening to pop in. I was delirious—half crying, half begging, body overstimuted and filthy with lust. My legs shook violently as another orgasm tore through me, wet and wild, my juices spshing against his thighs.

  He chuckled darkly.

  “You’re gonna milk me dry, aren’t you, little bitch?”

  Then—without warning—he forced the knot in.

  I screamed, body going rigid as the bulbous swell locked inside me. The stretch was brutal, and it hurt, but it also sent a new wave of heat ripping through my belly. I was trapped. Tied. Cimed.

  His hips spasmed and then he came.

  Hot, thick spurts of cum flooded me, pulsing inside so deep I could feel it in my womb. It didn’t stop—he just kept filling me, groaning like an animal in rut. My belly swelled slightly with the pressure, every drop marking me as his.

  And still, he didn’t pull out.

  He leaned over me, tongue licking the sweat from my neck.

  “You’re mine now, Red. You smell like me. Look like mine.”

  I was a mess—hair stuck to my face, cum dripping down my thighs, legs trembling and knees scraped raw.

  I couldn't move.Not with the knot still locked inside me, pulsing, stretching, ciming me.

  My arms gave out ages ago—I was slumped against the tree, drooling, thighs trembling like leaves in a storm. My pussy ached in the best, filthiest way, stretched wide around his cock, cum leaking out even though his knot sealed most of it in.

  He hadn’t moved in minutes.

  Just leaned over me, hot breath against my skin, chest rising and falling like he was waiting.

  “You’re full,” he murmured, voice low and smug. “I can smell it. My seed in your womb. You’ll be dripping for days.”

  I whimpered, biting my lip.

  The pressure was unbearable. His knot throbbed with every zy twitch, teasing my overstimuted walls, and the way it pressed against my insides—it was driving me crazy.

  “Please…”

  His ears perked up. “Hm?”

  My cheeks burned. “Please… move. Do something. I—I can’t take it.”

  He chuckled darkly. “You can. You will.”

  Then he rolled his hips—just once.

  I screamed. My whole body jolted, sparks flying through my nerves. Every nerve ending in my pussy lit up, twitching and clenching around his knot.

  “You like being stuck like this, don’t you?” he growled, licking my ear. “Fucked stupid. Ruined. Begging for a cock you can’t even get out of you.”

  “I—nngh—I need more,” I gasped. “Please. Fuck me again. I don’t care if it hurts—just do it.”

  That did something to him.

  His hands grabbed my hips tight, cws digging in just enough to sting. And then he thrust. The knot dragged against my walls, stretching me again, and I cried out like I was losing my mind. He didn’t care. He kept grinding, short, brutal thrusts, using the knot like a weapon.

  “You begged for it,” he snarled. “Now you’re gonna take it. Take all of it.”

  His thrusts grew faster. Wetter. My soaked cunt made the filthiest sounds—squelching, messy, desperate. I was drooling, babbling nonsense between moans, thighs quaking like I was going to pass out.

  And then I came again.

  Harder than the st. My vision whited out. My back arched. I screamed his name—not that I knew it. Just raw, instinctual noise, like something inside me broke.

  But he didn’t stop.

  Even while I came, he fucked me harder. Knot tugging, stretching, owning me.

  “You’re mine now,” he growled, voice dark and possessive. “This pussy? This body? It belongs to the wolf.”

  And all I could do was moan, shake, and beg for more.

  The knot inside me throbbed with a rhythm that made my toes curl. My pussy, raw and wrecked, clenched weakly every time it pulsed—like it was thanking him. Begging to be bred again.

  “You were made for this,” he growled into my ear, dragging his tongue up my neck. “Built to be fucked. Bred. Filled up until you leak.”

  His hand snaked around and pressed low against my belly—where his seed was pooling inside me, warm and heavy. “Look how full you are. Your body’s drinking it.”

  I moaned, voice hoarse, broken. “I want more…”

  He froze. Growled deep.

  “You want it?” he asked, yanking my head back by the hair. “You want to be bred again?”

  “Yes,” I gasped. “Please—fill me again. Breed me like a bitch in heat. I don’t care what I become, just give me more.”

  That broke him.

  With a feral snarl, he flipped me onto my back—his knot still inside me the whole time—and started pounding. Brutal, wet, possessive thrusts that left no space for anything but him. I was screaming, cwing at the dirt, crying from the overwhelming pressure of being fucked open again and again.

  “I’m gonna breed you until your belly swells,” he groaned. “Gonna watch you walk the woods dripping my seed—everyone will know you’re mine.”

  He leaned in close, eyes glowing like embers. “Say it.”

  “I’m yours,” I sobbed. “Your little breeding whore.”

  That earned me a thrust so deep it made my back arch and stars explode behind my eyes.

  And then he came. Again.

  The knot locked harder, sealing us together as wave after wave of cum flooded my womb. I could feel it—all of it. Heat spreading, thick and endless, spilling deeper than before. My belly pushed out slightly, swollen with how much he gave me.

  I was ruined. Marked. Cimed.

  But as he leaned over me, licking my lips, one cwed hand on my belly, he whispered low:

  “One load’s not enough. You’ll take more. You’ll take everything.”

  And I knew he meant it.

  The world I came from felt like a dream now.

  The dirt roads, the little cottage, the warm bread in Grandma’s hands—all soft edges and faded light. I could barely recall the sound of my own name.

  Out here, time moved differently. Days bled into nights, into moons, into seasons. The forest didn't care for clocks or calendars. It measured life in heartbeat and hunger, in rustling leaves and birthing winds.

  And me?

  I had changed.

  My belly swelled with slow certainty. Each movement inside me was a reminder—you are not who you were. I would feel them kick when the moon was high, restless and strong. Like him.

  The wolf.

  He never left me, not truly. Even when he vanished into the woods for days, I felt his breath in the trees. He’d return with wildflowers between his teeth, his eyes soft but wild, and curl around me like smoke. Some nights he would lie against my back, paw on my growing stomach, murmuring promises in a nguage older than words.

  I belonged to this pce now.

  My breasts had grown tender, heavy, leaking warmth before the time was right. He would soothe them with his mouth, slow and reverent, telling me how divine I tasted—how perfect I had become. It should’ve felt strange. But here, with moonlight painting our skin and the fire crackling low, it felt like truth.

  Once, I asked him if I would ever return.

  To the cottage. To the path. To the world of two-legged strangers who did not know what it meant to be chosen.

  He looked at me, silent.

  And I understood.

  I didn’t want to go back.

  I didn’t want ce dresses or hard bread or worried gnces from strangers who couldn’t understand the fire now coiled in my bones.

  I wanted the trees. The howl. The ache. The warmth of his tongue, the weight of his hand, the life inside me.

  And when the pups finally came—slick and crying, nestled against me as I bled and shook and ughed—I felt joy that was almost too big to hold. He nuzzled me, wrapped around all of us like a shadow, whispering, "You were made for this."

  He was right.

  I had wandered off the path long ago.

  And I had no intention of ever finding my way back.

  THE END