“Define a while,” Jacqueline asked with more than a bit of a worried tone. “I’m feeling a bit claustrophobic. I didn’t know how much control I need to relinquish. She has full control.”
“You have all the control, Jacqueline,” Bar corrected. “You can
force the shift back at any time.”
“I couldn’t do that to her or to him. Look how happy he is, Bar.
Look at Orson. He has mates and a little squad of his own.”
“Then let’s sit back, enjoy the ride and get ready to spend the night sleeping in a stinky, bear–sweat and musky den
because it’s where Orson is going to want to mate all of you.”
“He can’t mate Artos and Otso,” Jacqueline protested.
“He’s going to exert his dominance over both of them. Think of it like when a dog makes another male dog submit by humping it. Orson feels he is the alpha of this group. He’s going to cover their fur in as much jizz and musk as he can create.”
“That’s nasty,” Wilder complained.
“What?”
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