Riding Lil' Red Hard: A Modern Day Fairy Tale (Fairy Tale Series Book 3)

by Eddie Cleveland

“Well, I don’t know about that,” Connor sighs heavily, but I can see a sparkle in his eyes.

  “Why?”

  “Because,” he swoops his arms under the back of my legs and picks me up bridal style against his chest as he crosses the floor and begins to walk up the stairs, “I’ve always been more of a pie lover,” he grins down at me and carries me up to our bedroom.

  33|Charlotte

  “I can’t believe you could ever think that I’m less attracted to you,” Connor lays me softly on the bed and leans over me, “you’re fucking beautiful. Everyday you’re even more stunning than the day before,” his lips graze my earlobe as his whisper kisses my skin. “Even when we’re old and gray, I won’t be able to keep my hands off of you. I’ll still be chasing you around the house and grabbing your ass whenever I can,” he smiles.

  “I love you,” I can’t help but smile back. Connor’s lips softly caress mine and I melt back against the mattress as our tongues dance together sensually.

  “I want to see all of you,” he pulls back and begins sliding his fingertips up under my shirt, easily peeling it from my body. “I want to take my time with you until every inch of your body is trembling for me,” his voice grows thick and he unclasps my bra. My breasts fall slightly, I’m still not used to how much bigger they’ve gotten with the pregnancy. All of my shirts make me look like a Hooter’s waitress, clinging to my curves like body paint.

  “That won’t take long,” I look up at him with a sly smile, “just looking at you makes me quiver,” I admit.

  “Then you’re going to really enjoy this,” he gently guides me back down to the mattress and climbs up on the bed, quickly ripping his shirt off and tossing it aside. I let my fingers explore his tight muscles, travelling the mountains of his cut abs and the valleys of rigid definition between them. Connor straddles me, cupping my chin up, I close my eyes as he kisses me like it’s our wedding day and I just said “I do.”

  He kisses a trail across my jawbone and over to my earlobe, suckling it softly before lightly dragging his teeth over my sensitive flesh. Connor has a way of making every part of me raw, exposed and sensitive to his touch. Every glance, every whisper, every graze of his skin against mine, makes me feel fluttery inside.

  I roll my head to the side and moan as he nibbles and kisses a slow path down the side of my neck and over my collarbone, then down to my breasts. “Fuck you’re sexy, Charlotte,” he presses my breasts together and runs his thumbs over my nipples sending a surging bolt of electricity down through my stomach and burning like an ember of white hot desire between my legs.

  “Thank you,” heat rushes over my skin as a sudden shyness overcomes me. I feel like I’m seeing myself for the first time through his eyes. I’ve never thought of myself as some kind of model or raving beauty, but from the look of wonder battling with longing on his face, I feel like this must be what it feels like to be one of those girls.

  “No, thank you,” he corrects me warmly, “for your sweet smile in the morning and for these sweet tits right now,” he buries his head into my chest and drags his tongue over my full breast, teasing the nipple with just the tip as he reaches the top. Opening his mouth, he sucks my dusky nipple in past his lips, his soft beard slightly tickling me. I don’t have time to think about it though because as he circles my nipple with his lips and thrashes his tongue over the tip, electricity builds up inside me again like static in the air before a crazy summer storm.

  “Oh Connor,” I push my shoulders back, thrusting my breasts forward and lift my hips toward him, grinding against him.

  “Mmmm,” he hums as he kisses my other breast, driving me crazy. Slowly he kisses and licks a trail down my ribs and over my little belly, giving my hip a little nip with his teeth that makes me yelp with the overwhelming ticklish feeling that zaps through me. Connor smiles mischievously, looking up at me with a twinkle in his emerald eyes as he drags his tongue across my belly button and down to the edge of my pants.

  “I need to taste your honey, Charlotte. I need to feel your sweet cum splash on my tongue,” he holds the fabric around my button with his teeth and pops my pants open with his hands, wasting no time pulling them down the full length of my legs and ripping them free from my ankles.

  “Oh fuck,” I breathe as he slides between my legs and opens my aching pussy with one long, slow lick. I let my legs fall to the sides, spreading them for him as he immediately dives his tongue into my slick slit and swirls it in my quivering hole before sliding it up to my clit. I thread my fingers through his dark hair and watch as he delves his tongue inside me in a frenzy of passion and need. I open my legs further, exposing all of myself to him and mewl loudly as he thrusts a finger inside me.

  He wanted to make me quiver, well, I’m a bundle of nerves, barely able to contain my body’s erratic tremors as his tongue splashes pleasure over me, waking up parts of my body I didn’t even know could feel good. This sensation isn’t just contained by my clit or pussy or breasts. I can feel the primal need for the release only he can give me in my outstretched toes and my clenched ass. It’s in the coiled muscles of my legs and the tight grip I have on his hair as he licks me to the edge of my sanity.

  Suddenly it’s like every cell inside me explodes with bliss as a tsunami of ecstasy rolls over my entire body, leaving me limp and drowning in the amazing sensation. “Oh, my God, Connor! Fuck! Yes!” I don’t even recognize my growling voice escaping my throat as I let go of his hair and thrust my hands over my face.

  Connor sits back on his haunches, admiring the trembling jelly he’s reduced me to. That smirk on his face tells me exactly how proud his is to drive me this wild. “Fuck me, baby, please, I need to feel more of you,” I beg, trying to pull him on top of me, pants and all.

  “You sure that’s what you want?” His eyes glint as he toys with me.

  “Please,” my voice is hoarse with need.

  He doesn’t say another word, instead he slides off the edge of the bed and strips free from his pants and underwear. I can’t help but lick my lips as his thick cock springs, swaying slightly between his legs.

  “Yes,” I whisper.

  Connor climbs back between my legs and I wrap them around his waist, hooking my ankles behind him and pulling him into me. He holds the base of his cock and guides it into my wet pussy in one deep, unrelenting thrust.

  “I love you,” he murmurs as I look up into his eyes. His cock stretches me out in a way that makes me feel so tight inside, like I was made for him and him alone.

  “Ohh!” He buries himself until his balls slap against me and I feel full inside, “I’ve always loved you Connor,” I grip my muscles down against him tight and he thrusts inside me quicker and quicker.

  I don’t mean to dig my nails into him, slowly dragging them across his back as he fills me over and over with his hard cock. Connor grabs my wrists, thrusting them over my head and pins them to the bed as he fucks me faster, urgently. “I will always love you, Charlotte. Forever.” He breathes the words as he claims my pussy, making me his.

  Connor roots inside me, his orgasm tearing through him as he fills me with his seed. The warm spurts splashing inside me bring on an unexpected wave of pleasure. I can’t even make a sound as another orgasm tears through me.

  Connor rolls off to the side and I snuggle into his chest as he wraps his arms around me tight. Our hearts are beating erratically and our breathing is jagged, but our bodies are just a tangle of relaxed limbs. We both lie on the bed, satisfied and happy.

  “I’ll love you forever too, Connor,” I nuzzle into his chest and smile as he runs his hand over my hair.

  “Like I said, I’ll be chasing you around even when we’re wrinkled and old,” he chuckles and pulls me closer. I close my eyes and let the thought stir up beautiful images in my brain. Of the life we’re going to have together. As parents, lovers and friends. A smile crests my lips as I let my dreams of our future swirl in my head.

  34|Charlotte

  “Wahhhh!” My eyelids s
pring open and my breasts feel tender as the sound of little Christopher wakes me from my nap. I don’t mean to keep passing out when I put him down, but I guess they say “sleep when the baby sleeps” for a reason.

  I walk down the hall and lift my fussy boy from his crib, giving him a little kiss on the nose. “There’s my cutie pie,” I coo at him. Is there anything that can brighten your day quicker than a toothless, drooly baby smile? I brush his soft, curly hair across his forehead and bounce him as I walk down the stairs to the living room.

  “Mama! Lookamee! I’m a princess and Daddy is a prince,” my daughter Maisy jumps up from the checkered blanket spread out on the hardwood floor in her fluffy, pink dress.

  I can’t help but laugh at the blanket tied around Connor’s neck and the homemade crown on his head.

  “Well, it looks like you two are having a nice afternoon, Princess Maisy,” I smile down at my beautiful daughter and can’t believe she’s soon going to be heading off to preschool. Where did the time go? It feels like only yesterday we were up doing night feedings and diaper duty with her. Now her brother has taken over in those areas and she’s my rambunctious, curious little beauty.

  “We are!” She hops around enthusiastically, “Daddy and I are having a tea party, and I even poured the tea myself and guess what?” She claps excitedly.

  “What?” I grin.

  “I didn’t spill any on the floor this time! I did it like a big girl,” she puffs out her chest proudly.

  “That’s great honey, good job,” I lean over and give her a hug while Christopher drools down the front of her dress.

  “Ewww, yucky!” She scrunches her nose and scoots back over to her father.

  I can’t help but take a second to soak the scene in, Connor is sitting cross-legged on the blanket holding up an empty, plastic tea cup and Maisy carefully grasps the teapot and shakily pours some water into his cup.

  “Well, thank you Princess!” He holds his cup up to her and she lifts her tiny mug up, clinking it slightly against his.

  “Cheers!” She cries out.

  I carry Christopher into the kitchen and grab a bottle from the fridge and he sticks out his hands trying to take it from me. I place it on the counter out of his reach as I grab a pot and fill it with water so I can warm the milk, but he fusses a little not understanding that if I just handed it to him it would cramp his little tummy.

  Balancing him on my hip, I sway back and forth gently and he is quickly distracted and back to the cooing, loving baby I’m getting to know. At three months, I feel like I’m just starting to get the very first glimpses into his personality. He’s quieter and more observant than his sister was at this age. Since she came into the world, she’s made sure everyone in her wake is aware of her presence. Quiet is a word no one would use to describe Maisy.

  The only exception is when she goes to my brother’s church services. There she sits still with her hands folded in her lap on her favorite yellow dress and waits patiently until all the kids are called out for Sunday school. She loves watching Marcus get up from the pew and say his opening speech for the day. Almost as much as she loves going to the children’s classes run by Marcus’ wife. For a girl who can’t sit still for more than five minutes, it’s amazing to see her so attentive.

  I pluck the warmed bottle from the pot and test it on the inside of my wrist to make sure I didn’t overheat it. Christopher is waving his arms wildly and opening his mouth like a fish out of water impatiently. It’s the perfect temperature. “There ya go buddy, you’re hungry aren’t ya?” I tap my finger lightly on Christopher’s nose and watch his eyes light up as he devours his bottle.

  Walking back into the living room, I sit down and enjoy the baby snuggles as Christopher drinks his milk and smile hazily at the dream come true my life has become. With our first born on the floor playing with the sexiest Dad alive and our little boy cradled in my arms, it’s hard to imagine a time before now. It’s hard to remember the struggles we ever had or the insignificant dramas we faced.

  I know our entire lives won’t always be this easy or wonderful. We’ll face problems just like every other family, but as I sit here, in this moment, this is as close to perfection as I can imagine anyone ever living.

  I am truly blessed.

  The End

  The Beauty’s Beast

  Full Length Bonus Novel

  Synopsis:

  In Hollywood everyone dreams about the fairytale ending. But I’m not promising her happily ever after. Just one night with the beast.

  Gabe

  You know what’s f*@#ing ironic? They used to call me Gabe the Babe.

  Of course, that was before an IED blew half my face off.

  Now my scars are all anyone can see. Unless I’m prowling the floors of an LA sex club.

  When I walk in there, barely dressed, women aren’t looking at my face. Not when I’m packing a python like this.

  I thought I had it all figured out. Meaningless sex, no strings, no pitying looks…

  But then I saw her. With her innocent doe eyes, her plump lips and her breakneck curves… I know one night could never be enough. Hell, one lifetime seems too short.

  Vanessa

  I can’t believe I just landed the role of a lifetime. Every actress dreams of her big break and my star is on the rise. It’s a dream come true.

  I’ll be playing a nymphomaniac in the blockbuster of the year. There’s only one problem: I’ve never had an orgasm.

  Ever.

  Not even one.

  So now I’m in a sex club trying to research my role when I run into the sexiest beast I’ve ever seen.

  Literally.

  All of a sudden I’m thinking of doing a different kind of research.

  With him. Between the sheets. Naked.

  1|Gabe

  I know a lot of guys like to get pumped up before they come to places like this, and I don’t mean they give themselves a pep talk in the mirror. I mean, what do I know? They could be jerking their cocks in the mirror, that might be their thing.

  I’m not judging.

  When they come to a sex club, they want the goods to look as big, as eye-catching, and hopefully as mouth-watering as possible. After all, if we’re going to be walking around in our tighty-whities, they want to make sure they have something to fill them up with.

  That’s not my game. I don’t need to give myself a painful set of blue balls before I show up. My confidence might have been shaken when they pieced me back together after our Humvee hit an improvised explosive device overseas, but no one is looking at my sewn together face when they see what I’m packing.

  I walk past the familiar faces crowding the different parts of the club. As I strut by, I glaze over the usual bunch of women out tonight. My white, almost translucent, underwear reflects the lighting in each area as I walk through. They glow an eerie purple and the ridge of my cock’s helmet and all the veins seem to pop as I make my way through the seated section under black light where women are taking things slow, engaging in the art of seduction, dragging it all out. The walls flash in erratic shades of gray and white as I look like I’m choppily hopping over the floor under the strobe lights on the edge of the dance floor where some women are already completely naked and having their bodies sucked, licked, squeezed and teased by more than one guy.

  I take a look as I pass them, but seeing them exposed like that, it just doesn’t have the same effect. I’ve been doing this circuit for over half a year now, and I’ve met all the women who come here. I’m not sure what I’m looking for anymore. When I first showed up, it was obvious, I just wanted to feel wanted again. I wanted someone to look at my body, at my fat cock, and give me a chance for the night. No conversations about the military. No pitying glances at my scars. No discussions about how many surgeries it took to put me back together. Just pure passion. It gave me nights where I could feel normal again. It took stripping off almost all of my clothes to feel less naked and less vulnerable than my deep scars down the s
ide of my eye make me feel in the day.

  I stop at the bar and Mitch nods at me. He finishes mixing some girly cocktails and hands them off to a couple of ladies wearing leather bodysuits with holes for their tits to peek out. They wrap their arms around each other and hold their pink drinks in their free hands, walking off toward the dance floor. I’ve met that duo before, they’re broken.

  All the women I’ve met in places like this are. They might not have the same physical scars I do, but when I’ve gotten to know them, when they’ve spent the night here drinking and getting fucked, I’ve heard the sad stories. Sure, I’ve seen the girls who come out just because they’re in Los Angeles and they want to have a crazy story to tell their friends back in Wisconsin when they get back from their vacation. But the regulars, the ones I see every single time I’ve been here, they’re just as damaged as I am.

  Mitch walks to my end of the bar, his eyes shamelessly travel over my body, just like he always does. I don’t mind that he flirts with me or checks me out. He knows that I’m here for the women and he’s always respected that. I’m putting my cock out on display, if he wants to soak it in, I don’t really care. Besides, he always mixes me doubles, on the house. It must be how chicks feel when they go out for the night and just have to suggestively smile and have ten guys falling all over themselves to buy their drinks.

  “Hey sailor,” Mitch smiles, he loves calling me that. He started when he found out I was in the SEALs. “Rum and cock? Oh, I mean Coke,” he smirks and gives me a wink. I can’t help but laugh. I was starting to feel too jaded being here tonight. It’s nice to have him lighten the mood.

  “I will take the latter,” I lean against the bar and relax as he mixes my drink. Mitch doesn’t overdo it on the ice like some of these bartenders do, so that when it melts, you have a tall glass of rum flavored water. Instead he only plinks a couple of cubes into the glass and then liberally coats them with expensive rum. After a dash of Coke is sprayed on top, he hands it to me, making sure our fingers touch when he does.