It was working.
My climax hit hard, and I cried out in pleasure as I came around his cock.
Bo snarled again, losing control with me.
There was a sharp moment of pain at the base of my neck, followed by intense, liquid pleasure that burned through my veins like a fucking drug.
My cries became screams as I came again.
And again.
And again.
I was moaning and exhausted when the pleasure finally ended, my weight resting heavily against Bo’s chest and thighs.
“Fuck.” Bo’s voice was barely above a whisper.
There was shock in it.
Panic too.
Disbelief on top of it.
“What the hell was that?” I panted.
His fingers lifted to the place my neck met my shoulder.
His tongue followed them over the skin there. Quickly.
“Fuck,” he repeated, a little lower.
“What?” I asked.
There was a moment’s pause.
A long moment.
His fingers met my skin yet again.
“Ambrose?” I demanded.
“I bit you.”
Whatever else I’d been about to say died in my throat. “Youwhat?”
“It was unintentional.”
My throat swelled. “Youunintentionallyclaimed me the way a bear shifter would claim his mate? While we fucked?”
Another pause.
“Yeah,” he finally said.
“What the hell?” I nearly yelled.
The Call of Duty opening screen was on the TV, the music playing obnoxiously loud in the background as I stood abruptly.
Bo’s release rolled slowly down the insides of my thighs as I yanked my shorts up and spun to face him, my hands landing on my hips. At least I was wearing a shirt, for once.
