Page 67 of Finding Her Panthers

Blue tucks me in, caresses my cheek, and kisses me. It’s the most meaningful kiss I have ever received, not for its passion but its tenderness. He’s braced on his fists on either side of me when he pulls back and studies my face.

“Sleep,” he murmurs, letting his arms slide from the bed, and turns and walks through the door, shutting it softly.

I blink slowly, fighting the pull to do as he said. I bring my fingers to my lips in wonder. Blue gave me a beautiful gift. He blew my world apart with his worship, his love, his ability to show me how much he cares—all without saying a word.

I fall asleep with every inch of me smelling of him. On my skin, on my body, and in his bed. If that’s not a claim, I don’t know what is.

Chapter Sixteen

Harmony

Sun pours through the window, bathing me in warmth, bringing a smile to my mouth. I stretch my arms out over my head, relishing the ability to do so.

I have all the feeling back in my limbs. A good night of sleep must have helped. I move, testing my body, waiting for any sign of pain. This is a bonus to shifter blood—fast healing.

I look around the room in fascination with the bright light of day. Blue is certainly not a fan of any color. It’s black upon black.

I sit up, curious what else I can see. The bed sits in the very center of the room. He has a desk in front of the large window to my right, made from dark wood, gleaming. It’s spotless, every pen, paper, and computer lined up evenly. A television is mounted to the wall, balanced evenly between the right side of the bed and the desk. The two bedside tables on either side of the bed are black with matching lamps.

The only thing out of place is a chair in the corner next to the bathroom door, the chair is wood, but the cushion is black. But there are books stacked beside it carelessly, the spines in every color, worn and well-read.

This man has a worse obsession with black than I do.

My legs are steady when I get up. I take a few experimental steps. When I find I am back to normal, I use the bathroom—yes, it’s mostly in black—and make my way downstairs to find my mates. I can smell Jax strongly, but Blue and James aren’t in the house. Penny must be somewhere close, her light scent in the air, too.

Jax turns from the fridge to watch me get to the bottom of the stairs. I tentatively walk until I am standing in front of him, waiting for his reaction.

I don’t have to wait long, but he surprises me by reaching up to pull my shirt out of the way so he can lick the mark he gave me, slowly bathing it, biting it teasingly. His hand cradles my face. The other finds its place on my neck, his finger caressing my pulse.

“You’ve been so bad, baby girl. But I can’t find the desire to punish you right now when I am just so glad to have you back with us,” he growls, looking deep into my eyes.

“When you do have the desire, do I get a warning before it happens?” I sass, enjoying the surprising pleasure that moves over his face.

“Yes. We will always talk about your punishments. And by this last adventure, I’m guessing you will find many ways to earn it.” His hand takes a fist full of my hair at my neck, forcing my head back so I am at his mercy. “Give your Alpha a kiss,” he demands.

I push to my toes and offer my lips to him, demanding he meet me halfway.

I am so glad he took me up on it as the heat that burns within me explodes. The fire spreads from my lips he is devouring to my heavy breasts, to my center. He explores my mouth commandingly, sucking and biting at my lips.

I forget everything, immersed in my Alpha, the taste of him, the feel of his arms locked around me. Nothing else matters but the satisfaction of being here with him.

Our heavy breathing echos in the room as he pulls back, giving me one last nip. He doesn’t release me as I expect, though. I find myself lifted to the counter beside us, his hips against mine, friction from his pants rubbing the inside of my thighs intoxicating. He keeps his eyes on mine as he slides his hands up the outside of my thighs, over my hips to my sides, his thumb grazing my breasts. He stops under my arms, encouraging me to lift them. He tosses the shirt behind him, leaving me sitting naked in the kitchen, perched in front of him, my chest ragged with my breathing.

His eyes go dark, a black ring around them, bleeding into the blue, showing off his dangerous need. He raises his hand to run his fingertip over my breast, pausing at my nipple, circling it lightly, and then continuing down. The same finger glides over my stomach, inching toward my center. He reaches his goal, dragging through the wetness covering me.

“Do you want your Alpha?” his rough voice asks.

“Y-yes,” I stutter.

“Do you remember the rule?” His head tilts.

“Yes, Alpha.” I can barely think with his finger slowly caressing, over and over, never entering me.

“Good, baby girl. Do you want my finger or my cock?’ he asks curiously.

“Both?” Why is he still talking?

“Are you asking which one you can have?” he teases.

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