Pleasure was the feeling of the mate bond.
The good entirety of it.
The sparks that flew at its friction, the tingles that consumed whoseover it possessed fully, the need for another till the point that it was absolutely wreaking not to pursue.
The mate bond was filled with quest of boundless pleasures screaming to be attained.
But if pleasure lingered for too long in one's veins without any satisfaction to quench it or at least lay it to a temporal rest, it became sour, bitter and morph into the other taste of pleasure...
Pain.
That unpleasant sensation pushed through her whole body, her head fogging with a desperate need for relief against the anguish, the tingles turned into ache, and it spread through her veins. That part of her neck where a mark should already be, burning.