Page 7 of Pleasured By the Panther
Her lips parted in surprise.
“You dreamed of me?”
“Yes, lovely one.” His voice dropped to a purr. “For many months now, you have come to me in my sleeping visions. I knew you were mine the moment I saw you. Did you not dream of me as well?”
“No.” She shook her head quickly, color rising in her cheeks. “No, I… I never remember my dreams.”
Her denial didn’t trouble him—her scent told him the truth. Beneath her perfume and the faint tang of Earth air still clinging to her clothes, the fragrance of her rising Second Heat was unmistakable. Rich, ripe, and growing stronger every mile they flew away from Earth.
She looked out the viewscreen for a moment, then turned back to him, her chin lifting in that stubborn way he already adored.
“So tell me—what’s really going to happen once we get to your ship? We’re not just taking a tour, are we?”
Korrath’s fangs lengthened slightly at the directness of her challenge. He leaned closer, letting her feel the rumble in his chest as he answered.
“No. It is not just a tour. You will be required to submit to me in all things once we arrive. I will pleasure you in every way you can imagine—and some you have not yet dreamed of. And you, Miranda, will give yourself to me completely.”
Her eyes widened, her pulse fluttering at her throat.
“I never agreed to all that,” she protested, but the breathless hitch in her voice betrayed her.
Korrath inhaled deeply, letting the heat of her arousal flood his senses. She could deny his words with her mouth, but her body was already betraying her—already warming and ripening for him. His Bonding Scent was taking root in her, as it was meant to.
“Your words say no,” he murmured, lowering his voice until it was silk and steel, “but your scent tells me otherwise. Already your Heat is rising. Already your body calls to mine.”
He imagined peeling away her human clothing, exposing her soft, smooth skin…then spreading her thighs and tasting the sweetness of her pussy until she moaned for him, begged for him, promised to be good…
Korrath flexed his claws against the shuttle’s steering yoke, forcing himself to breathe evenly. Soon, he promised himself. Soon he would hear her call his name in pleasure, her body writhing against his as he claimed her fully.
Her Second Heat was building, her scent thick and intoxicating. She would not be able to resist him for long.
And he had no intention of letting her try.
6
MIRANDA
The Monstrum Mother Ship filled the viewport, blotting out Mars behind it. It was vast—so vast it made her stomach flutter nervously just to look at it. This was no space station built of cold metal beams like she’d seen in the sci-fi movies she and Hanna loved to watch, but a golden oval, gleaming like a jewel suspended in black velvet.
She pressed her fingertips to the curved glass as though she could steady herself against the immensity of it. Up close, the surface wasn’t smooth at all—it rippled with patterns, overlapping like scales or leaves. Spires and ridges rose and fell as if the whole thing was… breathing.
God. It looked alive.
Her heart thudded hard in her chest, each beat echoing through her body. This was really happening. She wasn’t just an observer anymore, watching documentaries about the Monstrum from the safety of her little living room. She was in space. In space. Miranda Slocom, divorced high school English teacher, was flying past Mars in a shuttle beside a seven-foot-tall panther alien who claimed she would “submit to him in all things.”
It was unbelievable and yet, here she was.
She stole a glance at Korrath, sitting so calmly at the controls, as if this were nothing more than a Sunday drive. His huge hands dwarfed the console, long black claws catching the light as he adjusted a lever. Black fur shimmered across the backs of his arms where his uniform sleeves had ridden up, glossy as a raven’s wing.
And then there was his scent.
It rolled over her in waves the longer she sat beside him—musky and wild, with a sharp spice that reminded her of cardamom and cloves. Underneath was something warmer…darker—like sun-warmed fur and smoke curling from a campfire. It should have been overpowering. Instead, it slid right under her skin, warm as honey.
The scent was damn near intoxicating. Her nipples tightened beneath her bra and heat unfurled low in her belly—a slow, embarrassing flame of desire that had no business stirring at her age, or in these circumstances. She pressed her knees together self-consciously, acutely aware of the dampness gathering between her thighs.
What is wrong with me? Why am I feeling this way—especially about a guy I barely know!
She’d spent years convincing herself she was invisible. Martin had certainly helped that along—every critical remark, every glance at younger women, had carved another notch in her confidence until there was almost none left.
