Page 39 of Countdown to Murder
His talented fingers went from my bottom to the backs of my legs, then the insides of my legs, and finally to the parts of me that craved touch. The parts no one but me had ever touched, and I’d only done so when cleaning myself. Never had it occurred to me to touch myself the way Panda did.
His scent surrounded me, and he held nothing back. I was slammed by feelings and sensations I’d read about but never fully understood. Lust. Affection. Caring.
And feline. All feline. Cocky and assured and confident, and none of that bothered me even a tiny bit.
The first time his finger slid inside me, I was on my stomach. I don’t know when he turned me over, all I know is that when he finally shattered my reality, we were face to face, his gaze watching me, analyzing, though his scent was of a feral lion, watching the woman he’d claimed.
Heated blood traversed my veins in a rush of thunder. My heart galloped as if it were all the wildebeests in the world, running from the lion.
And my pussy clenched around his fingers, trying to hold on so they could never leave. I wanted to feel this way forever, as if I was on top of the mountain and sliding down it at the same time. On a rocket ship to outer space, pressed into the mattress while his hand did wondrous things inside me, and his thumb pressed on a magical spot I thought might explode in pleasure even beyond what I was feeling.
And then the pleasure crashed around me in a final soul-shattering crescendo, and it was over. Breathless and limp, I thought I’d roll over and fall asleep, but he spread my legs wider, positioned his body between them, and licked methere.
I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t think.
And then he did it again. And again.
My mouth opened to tell him not to do that, but my eyes rolled back in my head and my voice wouldn’t work to do anything other than moan in a deep tone I didn’t even know I could hit.
When he brought me to orgasm this time, I must’ve passed out, because the next thing I knew, the sun was shining and I wasstarving.
Panda was behind me, curled around my back. He ran a proprietary hand from my shoulder to my hip, and slid it down to caress my naked bottom. It felt naughty, but I didn’t mind it at all. My bottom pushed back into him, and my stomach growled.
He kissed my neck, just under my ear. “I can smell your hunger. I’ve never smelled you even the least bit hungry before, and this is as if you haven’t eaten in a week.”
“I can’t remember ever being this hungry. I think my stomach might eat itself if I don’t put something else in it to consume.” It wasn’t just me who was hungry. The snake was starving, too.
He kissed my shoulder, rolled out of bed, and walked towards the kitchen — naked. “Then we should give it something to eat. Ruth said she put a breakfast casserole in the fridge. Let’s nuke it, and I’ll make bacon and steaks to go with it.” He lifted the lid and sniffed. “Eggs, cheese, sausage, mustard, and some kind of bread to hold it all together, I think. It’s a start.”
“I don’t eat much. The casserole should be enough.”
He gave me a steady look, but only said, “Maybe.”
A minute in the microwave, and then twenty seconds of eating, and the piece I’d nuked was gone but I was still starving. I put a bigger piece in.
Panda handed me a glass of orange juice, and I meant to take a sip but I drank the whole thing.
“What the fuck?” I wasn’t asking him, but he answered.
“My guess? They hooked your human form to your snake’s metabolism, somehow. Probably limited some of your brainpower in the same way. Not your ability to think in a battle situation, but freedom-type thoughts. I probably broke that when I gave you orgasms, so now you’re going to have the metabolism a shifter is supposed to have.” He shrugged. “It’s just a theory. I don’t know if a king cobra is different than other snakes when it comes to shifter metabolism, but I know a rattler who eats like a horse.”
I ate half the casserole, two large steaks, more than half of the dozen scrambled eggs he made, and most of the pound of bacon.
And then there was no way I could possibly run.
A knock sounded on the door, and I used my Jacobson’s organ to analyze the scents. “Ryan and someone who smells of divinity, but who isn’t Apollonius.”
“You got that half a house awayandthrough the door?”
I nodded, and he grinned. “Useful. Okay, let’s see what they have to say. We’ll do dishes later.”
Just before he opened the door, Panda told me, “Mordecai is a friend. Bow if you must, but don’t kneel.”
Chapter Twenty
Mira
Panda opened the door and gave the slightest of bows to the huge man standing beside Ryan.
