Page 8 of Pleasured By the Panther
She wasn’t some love goddess, no matter what this Monstrum seemed to think. She was just Miranda—an overweight, divorced, fifty-two-year-old English teacher with graying hair and too many laugh lines. She corrected term papers, for God’s sake. She was not supposed to be wet and aching in a spaceship for a seven-foot-tall alien warrior!
Yet her body wasn’t listening. Every breath drew in more of his scent, each lungful dragging her deeper into a haze that felt like half-dream, half-danger.
They approached the ship’s Docking Bay—an enormous opening that looked like nothing more than a vast, transparent window in the side of the Mother Ship. Miranda blinked, confused, as the shuttle headed straight for it.
“We can’t just—” she began, gripping the armrests as they neared the vast window.
Korrath’s deep, purring voice cut through her panic.
“It is not a window. It is a membrane—alive, like the rest of our ship. It recognizes us and opens, admitting only those who belong.”
As if to prove his point, the surface rippled. The golden oval accepted their shuttle with the smooth, seamless give of water. For a heartbeat, Miranda felt suspended in liquid light, like diving into a pool of molten glass. Then they were through, sliding into the glow of the Docking Bay below.
The interior unfolded around her—arched ceilings grown from some kind of living ivory and walls veined with soft luminescence. The air itself felt different as it blew through the vents, humming faintly against her skin and carrying a faint sweetness, like sap and salt.
Her breath caught.
It really is alive.
The shuttle settled with a gentle thump. Silence followed—the kind of silence that made the pulse in her ears too loud. She tried to gather her thoughts, but Korrath was already rising to his full height, filling the small cabin like he owned every molecule of air.
He turned to her, emerald eyes gleaming, and spoke in that velvet-dark voice that made her shiver.
“Here we are, my home. You are mine now, Miranda, for the next day and night. Mine completely, to do exactly what I want.”
Her stomach clenched, and for one wild moment she almost contradicted him—almost told him she wasn’t his, that she had her own life, her own rules.
But the words lodged in her throat, because even as she thought them, her body disagreed. Her nipples ached…her panties clung damp against her skin… and some deep, secret part of her wanted to hear what exactly he planned to do.
Miranda swallowed hard, clutching the strap of her purse like it might anchor her to reality. She wanted to scoff, to laugh it off—it’s just for a day and a night, that’s all.
But she couldn’t quite lift her chin. Not when his eyes held hers like that, unblinking and utterly certain. For the first time, Miranda began to wonder…
What have I agreed to?
7
MIRANDA
“Come, let me show you my home,” Korrath purred as he lifted her easily down from the shuttle as though she weighed no more than a pillow.
Miranda was impressed by his strength—her ex hadn’t even been able to lift her over the threshold when they got married, and that was years ago when she was much lighter. But her interest and wonder soon turned to examining the huge Monstrum Mother Ship.
The Docking Bay gave way to a corridor unlike anything Miranda had ever seen. She half expected gleaming metal walls and sterile fluorescent lights, but instead the passage was draped in vines that curled like ribbons, heavy with pale blossoms that glowed softly in the dim air. The flowers pulsed gently, shedding light in shades of gold and lavender, illuminating the path beneath their feet.
“It looks like a fairy tale,” she murmured, tilting her head back to take in the ceiling, where clusters of luminescent blooms hung like chandeliers.
“There are no artificial lights here,” Korrath said, his deep voice reverberating through the corridor. “The Monstrum Mother Ship is a living organism. She breathes…she warms…she shelters. We care for her and she cares for us in return. That is why we call it our Mother Ship. She is, quite literally, our mother.”
Miranda let that sink in as they walked. A living ship—a mother made of vines and blossoms and glowing fruit, cradling them in her arms as they traveled through space. It was strange, alien…and breathtaking.
She cleared her throat.
“So… what comes next?”
“You need to relax.” Korrath looked down at her, eyes gleaming green in the shifting glow of the flowers. “It’s been a stressful day for you. We will begin with a snack—something to feed your luscious curves.”
“A snack?” She almost laughed, because her nerves were stretched tight and he was treating this like an afternoon outing.
