Page 143 of Conner's Luna

"Um... he forgives her and they make love?" she says hesitantly.

"Say it properly," I tell her sternly.

"Fuck her until she can't move?" she says weakly as she rubs her thighs together.

I nod smugly. "Right. Unless he's a pencil-dick. Then he can't fuck her into submission, yeah?" I grab her hand and pull her closer to me. "YouownHonekier labs. You want to waltz out of that place with every piece of damn equipment in the place, you do it. The only problem is that you made Sarj wait outside. He thought you hated him or us... or me."

She squirms, looking guilty. "Poor Sarj," she whispers, "I don't hate any of you."

"Yeah, I know," I say smugly. "Next time, get him to carry shit for you. What if you fell or dropped something on yourself?" I scold her, the idea of Bailey somehow hurting herself making a trickle of cold sweat roll down my back.

She stares at me, her expression torn between exasperation and amusement.

"You're blushing," I tell her huskily. "And you're scent... damn babygirl."

"Stop it," her blush deepens.

"Can't," I tell her truthfully. "Now, was that your only confession?" I can't hide my smirk.

She tugs on her hand, but I have her captured good. "Yes," she replies grumpily.

"Good. Now, how about paying me back for those stolen goods like a good girl?"I just can't fucking resist. I skim my thumb over those plump lips. "On your knees," I say gently, "and open for me."

Her eyes widen behind her glasses, then dip to see the tent in my pants. A slight smile curves her lips. "Please, Conner," her tongue darts out and licks my thumb. "Won't you forgive me?" She puts a little sashay in her hips and runs her forefinger down my chest.

"Yeah, sure," I rasp out as she falls to her knees in front of me. It's literally all I can manage to say as I refasten the damn muzzle and she unfastens my jeans.

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Bailey

"I think your mouth may be magic, too," Conner murmurs, a sated, happy smile on his face. "Titties, check. Mouth, check." He pauses, "Ass-ets, double-check."

I hide my grin in his arm, but I can't stop the laughter bubbling up. "So crude," I scold him.

"Yeah, I am," he says, his smile widening.

"Hey, Conner?" I prop my chin on his chest. One green eye opens lazily and he hums. "Do I have to bite you, too?"

His smile falls and a slight frown crosses his face. He backs up against the wall behind the bed, into a sitting position and cradles me in his arms. "Well, you would if you were a she-wolf. Honestly..." he pauses, "I'm not sure if you would need to."

"Wouldn't that make our Claiming incomplete?" I ask worriedly.

Conner frowns, "not technically. One Mark seals the deal. Two make it nearly unbreakable. Males often repeatedly Mark their mates, so that frequency matters, too. Dad will... yeah, let's not talk about my parents, but repeat Markings are common enough."

"Hmm," I frown at him.

He toys with a lock of my hair, "what is my smart girl thinking?"

"It's usually the men who bite, isn't it?"

"Males typically go first and absolutely will Mark their females," he admits.

"It's kinda misogynistic," I tell him.

I expect him to get a little upset, or maybe deny it, but he nods in agreement instead. "It is. Wolves tend to be more instinctual than humans. I guess traditional gender roles are deeply ingrained in our society. It's difficult to break those roles for humans, let alone wolves, but really it's about dominance. The dominant wolf has to Mark the more submissive partner."

I smile, pleased. Here's a dominant alpha-male, literally, talking about traditional gender roles in a very open, modern way. "What does that mean for us? I'm not a traditional wolf, Conner," I ask him quietly.

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