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“She’s the runt who clawed my dick!” He paces, fuming, “She’s going to be like a dog that’s bitten once. Now, she won’t stop. She’ll be wild and untamed and scratching my dick all the time.”
I laugh, falling onto the bed with her. “Good girl!” I cuddle her to my cheek. “I’ve trained you so well; I’m naming youSwiper.”
“Ha, ha, fucking ha, Dora the Explorer.” He insists, “We’re not keeping that one.”
I bat my lashes.
“No!”
I blow him a kiss.
“No.”
I spread my legs.
“Goddammit, fine. But she’s not sleeping with us.”
“We’ll see.” I shrug.
Like I won’t teach her how to break his rules.
And I can’t stop giggling during our shower, when he mumbles and checks his penis every five seconds. Not like it was injured or even scratched.
Axel’s so cute and worried that I kneel in the shower and kiss it until I make it better, until I make him hard and moan, until he picks me up and I wrap around him, and we make everything better.
By the time we’re done and dried off, Sire and Wren are knocking on the door.
Thirty minutes later, all the kings, queens, and The Queen circle our kitchen island, covered in dishes everyone brought for brunch.
“Do we get to pick which one?” Wren gazes into the transparent playpen Axel built for the kittens.
“Angel, baby.” Sire pops a grape in his mouth, grinning at Wren. “Pray, you pick the one that sleeps the most.”
“I want the one that’s house-trained,” Jace adds, leaning with Loch against the kitchen counter.
“They’re all house-trained.” Axel pours coffee for me, then for his mom. “Ruby made sure of it.”
“They’re litter-trained, weaned, but hell on toilet paper,” I share, sitting on a barstool between Vale and Delphine. “Oh, and shoes. They love Axel’s shoes, so be careful.”
It’s sweet, the gentle side hug Nadine gives Axel. His shoes.His feet.Of course, she knows, and Axel leans down and kisses her hair.
“I have an idea.” Nash rubs Vale’s shoulders. “Let them out of the pen and see who they go to.”
“Ahh, yes, use natural selection,” Vale sighs. “When did you get so smart, my king?”
Nash kisses her neck. “Fourteen years before you were born, my smartass, beautiful queen.”
“Let’s do it.” Zar crouches by the gate to the pen. “Let’s set these pussies free.”
“Like I don’t see that cheese cube in your hand,” Nick warns him. “We’re not taking two home.”
Together, Zar and Wren open the gate, and the clowder of little golden lions scamper toward the kitchen while Sparky rests in my lap.
“One of them we’re keeping,” I remind the others, but it doesn’t matter.
They all scurry to Axel, and two start climbing his grey sweatpants.
“Typical.” Loch laughs. “Of course, all the pussies go to Axel first.”