Page 27 of Pleasured By the Panther
“You are a guest here. Explore if you wish,” he said over his shoulder. “My home is yours.”
Miranda wandered down a short hallway and found herself in what appeared to be a bedroom. The bed was enormous—a wide, circular structure formed from layered vines and leaves. It looked soft and inviting—almost like a nest.
Beyond the huge bed was another flower curtain. When Miranda swept it aside, she found a smaller room with smooth stone walls glistening with condensation. A fresher, she realized—the Kindred’s version of a bathroom. There was a basin for washing, a drain in the mossy floor, and a faintly glowing bloom set into the ceiling to give light.
She slipped inside, clutching the beautiful emerald green spider-silk dress closer. Her whole body was buzzing now—skin tingling and breasts aching. Her pussy was so hot and swollen she could hardly walk. Maybe—just maybe—if she touched herself, she could take the edge off.
Heart hammering, she pulled up her skirt and slid one hand between her thighs. Just the lightest brush of her fingers over her pussy lips made her gasp aloud. The pleasure was sharp—almost painful—like an electrical spark jumping through her nerves. She tried again, stroking gently…but the sensation only grew worse.
“Ahh—oh God!” she panted, jerking her hand away. It was too much—pleasure and pain all tangled together. She couldn’t stand to touch herself anymore. There was no release…not relief. Nothing but unbearable need.
She braced herself against the smooth wall, shivering.
What’s wrong with me? Why is my body aching like this? Why can’t I touch myself?
Her skin tingled everywhere, as though even the air itself was too much stimulation. Her nipples throbbed if she so much as breathed too deeply. And between her legs… she didn’t dare touch again. She was afraid she’d break apart!
There was no mirror in the fresher, but she didn’t need one to know something was happening to her. Her body felt foreign…strange. As though she was caught in some feverish state she couldn’t explain.
Her breath came fast and shallow as the intense sensations spiked her fear.
What’s happening to me?
And a better question might be…was she going to survive it?
18
MIRANDA
Her sharp little cry must have carried, because suddenly Korrath was there, filling the doorway of the fresher. His eyes blazed green in the glow of the wall blooms.
“What’s wrong?” His voice was low—rough with worry. “I heard you cry out.”
Miranda swallowed hard. God, she didn’t want to say it. But the ache in her breasts, the throb between her thighs—it was too much to keep inside.
“Something’s… wrong with me,” she whispered. “I feel so hot…so swollen. My nipples hurt. And down there—” Her cheeks flamed as she gestured between her thighs. “It’s even worse.”
Korrath frowned, his face a mask of worry.
“Let me see.”
The words made her heart lurch. She wanted to tell him no, wanted to hide—but he’d already seen her naked. He’d already touched her. And right now she was too desperate to argue.
“All right,” she said in a low voice. “Just be careful—I’m so sensitive I could scream.”
“I will handle you with care, of course,” he promised. “Come—I must examine you.”
He led her gently to the bed, easing her down onto the springy moss that formed its surface, but first he pulled the spider-silk dress over her head. His big hand cupped her breast, his thumb brushing lightly over the tight, red peak.
“Ouch!” Miranda gasped.
“It is as I feared,” Korrath murmured, his eyes hooded. “You are swollen… overheated.”
Then he looked lower.
“Part your thighs for me, lovely one. Let me see where it hurts the most.”
Her breath stuck in her throat. Though he’d touched her and massaged her, she still felt shy.
