Page 12 of Reconditioning the Wolf

Rousing slowly, Ishmael relaxed with his eyes closed. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d slept so deeply and so soundly. Maybe it was because the bed felt so wonderfully comfortable, and there was a scent surrounding him that he wanted to wallow in.

Ishmael also couldn’t remember when he’d woken with such an aching morning wood. Normally, he would need to coax his half-mast prick to life if he decided to whack off. Right then, Ishmael felt as if he could roll to his stomach, grind against the mattress, immerse himself in that wonderful smell, and get off in less than a minute.

Except. Why? My bed at the facility doesn’t feel like this.

With that thought, Ishmael grew a bit more aware... and he realized he wasn’t alone in the bed. He snapped his eyes open in surprise. The dark-skinned chest under his cheek registered. Lifting his gaze along the broad torso, Ishmael took in the miles of thick muscles, and he felt his dick twitch.

Oh wow boy howdy!

Finally, Ishmael’s attention reached the man’s face, and he felt his breath catch in his throat. He recognized Madagascar’s goateed features, his face relaxed in sleep. Ishmael felt the urge to lift his hand and trace his fingertips along the thin line of hair framing his full lips.

He’s holding me in his arms. Sleeping with me. What would his lips feel like?

As Ishmael stared and wondered, Madagascar’s eyelids slid up.

Ishmael froze, wondering what Madagascar would think of how they had been sleeping. Would he be upset to be in bed with him, holding him? Except, he didn’t even know how he’d ended up in bed with the man.

“Good morning, handsome,” Madagascar rumbled, his voice deep and rough from sleep. Lifting a hand, he threaded it through Ishmael’s shaggy hair, pushing it away from his face. “Did you sleep okay?”

“Yeah,” Ishmael whispered. Suddenly feeling shy, he lowered his gaze to the man’s chin. “Um, h-how’d I get here?”

Sliding his hand down along Ishmael’s face, Madagascar teased his fingers under his chin. He applied a bit of pressure, encouraging him to lift his gaze. Once Ishmael met Madagascar’s gaze again, Madagascar smiled warmly at him.

“You got a little overwhelmed when we first arrived last night,” Madagascar told him. Then his brows furrowed, and he smirked. “Well, this morning, really.”

“I did?” Ishmael searched his memory for the last thing he remembered. The scene of Kontra and his people handling docile animals from the facility popped into his head. “Oh.” Ishmael gaped. “Y-Your people, uh, the animals.” After clearing his throat, he muttered, “They almost seemed... friendly.”

Madagascar smiled encouragingly. “Yes. Maybe not friendly, per se,” he mused quietly. “They were definitely happy to be removed from the cages and were probably grateful for Kontra’s people’s help.” Scoffing softly, Madagascar told him, “I know when I first realized the warlocks in Kontra’s gang weren’t going to use their magick against us and force us to do cruel things, I was damn grateful to them.”

Ishmael frowned. “Warlocks? Magick?” Sometimes, Madagascar made such outlandish comments, and he didn’t know how to process them. They went against everything he’d been taught by Doctor Meyer. With a sigh, Ishmael muttered, “I don’t understand why you believe in that stuff.”

Clicking his tongue, Madagascar shrugged the shoulder not under Ishmael’s cheek. “Maybe after we’ve both had our morning coffee, we’ll discuss this more.” His eyes narrowed, and a smile that looked... hungry... creased his lips. “Right now, there’s definitely something else I’m interested in discussing... and doing.”

While Madagascar had been speaking, he’d begun to slide his palm down Ishmael’s side. The glide of the man’s calloused hand over his skin created a wash of tingles to spread across his flesh. His gut clenched as warmth flooded it, flowing swiftly down to his groin.

Gasping in surprise, Ishmael shifted a bit on the bed. He felt his erection rub against Madagascar’s hip. Even through the fabric of his jeans, the pressure felt fantastic.

“Mads,” Ishmael moaned, a shudder working through him. “Oh. What are you...”

“I can stop, if you want, Ish,” Madagascar told him, his eyes narrowing a little. “But I really don’t want to.” He moved his hand behind Ishmael’s back and slipped his fingers beneath the waistband, teasing along the top of his butt cheek. “I want to help take care of that impressive rod digging into my hip.” Ishmael would have felt embarrassed to have his arousal so blatantly pointed out, but then Madagascar’s voice lowered to a husky rumble as he continued, “I want to please you, handsome. Would you let me suck your cock?”

“S-Suck on my, my d-dick?” Ishmael barely got the words out, and he barely held back his orgasm just from thinking of the handsome man’s full lips offering to apply wet pressure to his sensitive shaft. “Y-You’d really, r-really do that?”

“Oh, yes, Ish,” Madagascar rumbled gruffly. Sliding his hand out of his pants, moving it to his hip, he gripped him and pushed lightly. “Lie back, baby,” Madagascar encouraged. “Let me make you feel good.”

Letting out a whine of need, Ishmael did as he’d been told. He desperately wanted to feel that. He’d heard about it. He’d seen others in secluded corners giving each other blowjobs, but no one had offered to give him one.

Ishmael watched with anticipation as Madagascar rolled to his hands and knees. The lust blazing from his eyes made it hard for Ishmael to take a full breath. He panted swiftly as he watched Madagascar ease closer and reach for the fly of his jeans.

When Madagascar paused, Ishmael couldn’t stop his groan of dismay.

“Relax, my mate,” Madagascar purred, resting a hand on Ishmael’s stomach. “I just want permission,” he explained, rubbing over his abdominals lightly. “Need to hear you say you’re okay with me sucking you.”

“Yes,” Ishmael blurted out swiftly. “Please, yes, please.” When Madagascar began to grin, he ordered, “Suck me.”

“With pleasure.”

Madagascar growled even as he grinned. At the same time, he popped the button on Ishmael’s fly. Then he lowered the zipper.

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