Page 154 of The Good Boys Club

“Ready? I’ll do you first.” He positioned himself so he was in front of me. “Once we have the mate bite, we won’t technically need to do the pee thing any more. I kinda like it, though, so maybe we could still do it like, now and then?” It was adorable he’d asked.

I knew he loved it. He might pretend he was indifferent, but indifference didn’t explain why I sometimes found him “flirting” with women—though only when he knew I was looking—then he’d loudly complain these women couldn’t smell the bond on him, and that’s why they were trying it on. I didn’t care. If Mash wanted a golden shower whilst being leashed, Mash would get a golden shower, and I would tell him just what a good boy he was the entire time.

I would give him everything he wanted.

“Mash, I love you, but please mark me before the sun comes up. I can’t go another month without officially being your mate.”

With no further words, he closed his jaw over the soft part of my neck where it met my shoulder. He took his time findingthe exact spot. I wondered how he knew, and whether I would know the right spot on him when the roles were reversed, but he paused once he’d settled on somewhere. I said nothing. He said nothing.

And then his teeth sunk in.

A harsh pressure and then popping, like bubble wrap being twisted, as his canines pierced my flesh first, followed by his other teeth. A second of blinding agony, and then it ebbed, like the tide drawing back. Only, when the waves crashed to the shore, the feeling wasn’t one of pain, it was warmth, and memory, and belonging, and love.

So much overwhelming love.

I thought I loved Mash before, but it was nothing compared to how I felt now. It was like nostalgia, and intimacy, and a sense of union.

I was irrevocably bonded to him.

I needed to do the same. This instant.

“How was that?” Mash asked, pulling away from me. “Did I hurt you? You’re bleeding.”

“Yes, no, not really. It’s . . . it’s . . . I’m yours,” was all I managed to say.

“Of course you are.”

“No, I can’t . . . explain. Mash, I love you so much. You’ll understand when I bite you.”

“Do it, then,” he said.

“How will I know if it’s the right spot?”

“Oh, yeah, I was worried about that, but you just know. Instinct or some shit . . .”

“It’s a werewolf thing,” we both said at the same time.

So I copied what Mash had done to me, placing my open mouth around his collar area. I moved it down a little more towards his shoulder and paused for a couple of seconds, both to give Mash a moment to prepare and to gather my nerve.

And I bit him.

Gently at first, increasing the pressure until my teeth burst through his skin. The taste of iron flooded my tongue. Mash’s blood. I’d hurt him. He whimpered, but I didn’t stop. Kept the bite firm until my instinct told me to release him. Then I pulled away.

The blood was more obvious against Mash’s blonde fur than my gunmetal grey. My gut churned, my heart ached.

“It didn’t hurt,” he said, as though reading the sadness in my eyes. “How do you feel?”

I tried to gather my thoughts. The guilt from hurting Mash had subsided. “I feel . . . like I never want to be apart from you. Like . . . if you walked over there to that tree, I might die.”

“That’s the mate bond talking. It can be a drama queen,” he said.

“Maybe. But then, part of me has always felt that way with you. Perhaps now I just have the courage to say it out loud.”

Something rumbled deep inside Mash’s sternum. Not a growl, but not quite a purr.

“Okay, sniff me now,” he said, and angled his head upwards to give me better access.

I pushed my nose into his fur and breathed him in. And like that time in his shower, the reaction was instantaneous. He smelled of things that weren’t even possible to smell of.

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