Page 14 of Reconditioning the Wolf

Something deep within him, something primal, roared with pleasure at that knowledge.

Mine!

Ishmael didn’t know or understand where that voice in his head came from, but he found himself agreeing with it.

A second later, Ishmael felt something weird going on with his teeth. He turned his head, breaking the kiss. His attention fell on Madagascar’s neck.

Unable to help himself, as if someone else had control of him, Ishmael struck. He sank his strangely long teeth into the flesh where Madagascar’s neck met his shoulder. The sweet nectar that flowed into his mouth yanked a deep, satisfied groan from him as he swallowed it.

When Ishmael sucked a second mouthful down his throat, his gut clenched. His balls pulled tight, and a fresh orgasm rocked through him. Arching, releasing Madagascar’s neck, Ishmael roared his pleasure.

It wasn’t until Ishmael began to come down from his endorphin high that he realized what he’d done.

Jerking his gaze to Madagascar’s neck, Ishmael spotted the blood dribbling from his lover’s neck. Unable to believe—or understand—his behavior, he cringed and turned his head, fearing a blow or sneer.

“I’m sorry,” Ishmael whined, fearing Madagascar would think he was a freak. “I’m so sorry.”

When was the last time I took my meds? I was supposed to take one after work last night. But, oh god, I didn’t! I must be having a delusion.

Chapter Seven

Coming down from one of the most intense orgasms of his life, Madagascar panted heavily. He felt a slight tingle at his neck, and he lifted a shaky hand to it. When his fingers came away sticky, Madagascar stared in shock at the blood on his fingers.

Holy fucking shit. My mate just claimed me.

Finally, Ishmael’s words registered to Madagascar’s blissed-out brain. He snapped his attention to Ishmael, and his gut tightened, and not with pleasure.

His poor confused mate had his arms wrapped around his torso. He had his chin tipped down and his face turned to the side, as if he were trying to hide. His gorgeous mate apologized over and over, looking for all the world as if he were about to be punished in some way.

Maybe someone used to punish him?

Dismissing the thought for later, Madagascar eased to the left, propping himself up on his arm. He kept his leg slung over his mate’s thighs, hoping the contact would help. Gently, he gripped Ishmael’s wrist and squeezed lightly. When that didn’t get a response, Madagascar slid his hand up and cradled Ishmael’s jaw.

“Hey, Ish,” Madagascar purred, rubbing his thumb along his jaw. “Look at me, handsome. Everything is okay.”

It took Madagascar repeating his words twice more before Ishmael began to calm down. His mate peered at him from beneath his lashes. Nibbling his bottom lip, Ishmael appeared so conflicted and confused.

“There you are, Ishmael,” Madagascar murmured, smiling at him. “You didn’t do anything wrong. It’s okay.”

Ishmael’s brows furrowed. His focus flicked to Madagascar’s neck before returning to his face. He did that twice before he licked his lips.

“But,” Ishmael whispered. “I-I bit you.” He even lifted a hand and pointed. “Right there.”

“I know you did,” Madagascar responded, sliding his hand up to tease his fingers into Ishmael’s thick black hair. “I liked it.” When he saw the clear disbelief in Ishmael’s dark eyes, Madagascar told him, “Your bite made me orgasm.” Unable to keep it to himself, he added, “And when I eventually bite you, I know you will, too.”

Frowning, Ishmael remained quiet for several heartbeats. He opened his mouth, then closed it again.

Madagascar waited patiently, wondering what Ishmael would say.

Finally, Ishmael simply asked, “Why?”

Not understanding the context, Madagascar hesitated. “Uh.” He cocked his head as he gave Ishmael a rueful smile. “I’m not certain which part you’re asking about. Why what?”

“Why did I bite you?” Ishmael asked. Before Madagascar could answer, his mate continued with, “I’ve never done anything with anyone before. Is biting normal when you have sex with someone? Is what we did considered sex?” Madagascar thought about what to answer first, even as his bear roared possessively in his mind upon learning that they would be the only person to ever touch their mate, but Ishmael wasn’t done. “Did you really orgasm? Is that why you want me to bite you again? Why would you bite me? Will I orgasm?”

Smiling widely, Madagascar slipped his fingers to Ishmael’s lips, quieting him. “Let’s see if I can cover all those things,” he murmured, thinking quickly. “Uh, yes, you’ll orgasm,” he told him, deciding to go backward. “And I’d bite you for two reasons. To give you pleasure and to complete our bond.” Madagascar felt Ishmael open his mouth between his fingers, so he hurriedly continued, “Yes, I really did orgasm, and not only would I love to feel that again, your teeth in my neck also pleases me because it means you and your animal are claiming me back.” With a growl, Madagascar admitted, “The fact that you don’t ever remember doing anything with another makes me so hot, my mate.” He couldn’t help his feral smile as he added, “I can’t wait to explore all of your interests, likes, and even your dislikes together.”

Finally, Madagascar moved his hand back to Ishmael’s jaw and waited.

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