Page 52 of Wedding the Werepanther

“I think you’ve seen quite enough of me so far.” I grin. “For now, I want to focus on you.”

Her eyes go wide, her fingers moving faster, and the thought of her being turned on by my words makes my hips jerk.

“Take off your clothes,” I grit out, barely maintaining control.

The alluring witch pulls her shirt over her head, her full breasts bouncing in the most fascinating fashion. She twists the tiny strip between them, and the fabric triangles fall away, setting her breasts free in all their glory.

I groan. They’re so big and soft they beg for my hands, tipped with dark-pink nipples I long to suck. During all those years in my panther form, breasts were never part of sex play, but seeing Kayla’s makes me realize everything I missed out on. My cock leaps, and I press a hand to it, trying to keep myself in check.

It works for only a second, because Kayla hooks her thumbs under the waistband of her panties, lifts her hips, and slides them down, down, down those lovely long legs. She clamps them together, her cheeks pink, her eyes vulnerable in a way she should never be.

Rage flashes through me. We use the smile of the cat sith to fool others into forgetting what we truly are: hunters, warriors. I want to kill whoever put that look in her eyes.

Yet tonight is about her, about making her feel good, about proving to her she’s perfect exactly as she is and as far from “broken” as one can get.

“Goddess, you’re so beautiful.” I stroke the inside of her ankle, teasing the soft skin with the pads of my fingers, my eyeslatched onto the triangle of brown curls that points to exactly where I want to be. “Let me see all of you. Please.” I’ll beg if I have to. I’ll do anything for more of her.

Her legs slowly part, her lush thighs falling open to expose more brown curls surrounding dark-pink lips that glisten with wetness. The sweet and musky scent of her arousal slams into me, making my hips jerk forward as my cock tries to get to her, a rigid bar of aching longing.

“Sorry. I don’t wax.”

“What?” Why is she apologizing? “Wax?”

“I don’t remove the hair.” She flutters a hand toward her sex.

“You’ve seen my werepanther form. Ilovehair. I adore it. I forbid you to ever wax.” I grin and bracket my straining cock, outlining the rigid bulge. “See? He likes it, too.”

A startled giggle bursts from her, a sound I’ve never heard before. It’s delightful. I want to make her do it again and again.

“Now, show me, Kayla. Show me what you like. Touch yourself.”

Her fingers slide down to rub little circles around the small nub at the top of her sex, and her legs fall further open, her mouth rounding as she sucks in excited breaths.

I crawl higher on the bed to get closer, fascinated. No video could ever prepare me for the reality of Kayla.

“I need…” She gestures toward the bedside table with her free hand, biting her lip.

“Get it,” I growl. “I want to see everything.”

She pulls out a purple shaft shaped like an erection with an attachment coming off the side that ends in two tiny little fingers. After coating the toy in a thick fluid, she turns it on, and a hum fills the air as it starts to vibrate. Kayla’s teeth sink into her bottom lip as the vibrator sinks into her, and the scent of her arousal blooms.

The toy slides in and out of her with wet sucking sounds that drive me wild.

“Look at you, so wet, so luscious,” I growl, hand pressed to my cock. “You’re a goddess.”

Her eyes finally open, and when Kayla sees how I’m looking at her, sees how hard my erection is, she lets out a high keen, her thighs shaking as she falls apart in front of me.

I collapse onto the bed, my head landing between her calves. I press a kiss to the inside of her knee, scraping the soft skin with my fangs.

She shivers and gasps.

Encouraged, I crawl upward, pulled along by her heady scent, a hunter sighting his perfect prey. I lick my way up her thigh until my nose bumps against the bottom of the vibrator, which still hums. I peel her fingers away to replace them with my own and start to fuck her with the toy, loving how responsive she is, how her face wears this constant look of delighted shock and desire.

My erection throbs, demanding attention, and I grind against the mattress, unwilling to focus on anything but Kayla, my wife.

Using one hand to press the toy’s fluttering fingers to her clit, I pump the shaft in and out of her. “Do you like that?”

“Oh, god,” she moans, her hands fisting the sheets. “It’s even better when you do it. I don’t have to do anything. I can just feel.”