Page 8 of Pleasured by the Panther (The Monstrum Kindred)

KORRATH

He led Miranda down a narrow passage that opened into a grove bathed in soft, otherworldly light. The air was warm and damp, fragrant with the perfume of flowering vines. Bioluminescent blossoms hung from branches, throwing splashes of gold and violet across her pale skin.

Despite the beauty of the scene, Korrath had eyes for nothing but his Mature Elite .

He breathed her in, his nostrils flaring.

Even here, surrounded by the ship’s lush scents, her fragrance was stronger.

The wine…the fruits he had fed her…the subtle musk of her Second Heat beginning to rise, they all teased him.

His body stirred, impatient for her touch.

But he would not rush her, he told himself.

She needed to learn to trust him before he could Bond her to him.

Miranda paused in the grove, her eyes flicking to the organic table at its center. It was grown from one of the Mother Ship’s massive root structures, the surface flattened and cushioned with firm moss that glowed faintly from within.

Her brows drew together.

“I thought this was some kind of couples massage—where’s the other table? And where are the massage therapists?”

Korrath stepped close enough that his fur brushed her skin. He lowered his head until his lips were near her ear.

“I am the one giving you the massage, my lovely one,” he purred.

She spun to face him, her lovely eyes wide.

“What?”

“During the Claiming period, a Kindred or Monstrum warrior is allowed to massage his chosen woman and give her pleasure,” he reminded her.

He felt a smile tug at his mouth. “ We are having our Claiming period now—it is simply a little shorter than usual.” He straightened, looking down into her eyes.

“ Would you like help undressing?” he murmured.

Miranda backed away, her eyes going even wider.

“You want me to get naked?”

“Yes.” Korrath kept his voice low and steady. “ Completely . How else can I massage your lovely curves?”

Her gaze dropped to his hands, lingering on the long, black claws that tipped each finger.

“But won’t you… scratch me?”

Korrath raised one hand slowly.

“You have no need to worry, lovely one. See ?” He flexed his fingers with practiced ease, and his claws slid back into their sheaths. Only smooth pads and furred fingers remained. He spread his palm toward her. “ My claws are retractable. I would never hurt you. I only want to give you pleasure.”

Her shoulders relaxed a fraction, though her chest still rose and fell quickly. He felt her heartbeat drumming through the air between them. She wanted to bolt—but she also wanted to stay.

He let a bit of steel slip into his tone, enough to remind her who was in control.

“Now… are you going to be good for me and undress? Or must I undress you myself?”

He watched her lips part, saw the pulse flutter at her throat.

She hesitated, caught between propriety and the pull of something older, deeper .

The part of him that was all predator wanted to strip her himself—to lay her bare across the moss and taste every inch of her soft human skin.

But the male in him—the Warrior , the Fated Mate —wanted her surrender to him.

He wanted her to want to give herself. But would she ever reach that point?

Korrath hoped so.