Page 28 of Mated To My Boss

“More than anything.” I grin.

“I want you,” he groans. “I want you.”

His hands move to my breasts, palming them as I continue to bounce on his shaft. Nate grips me harder, twisting my nipples as he gets closer to the edge.

I begin to lose my senses until only raw pleasure remains. My body starts to spasm, shaking even after Nate explodes in me. My hips shake violently as I release as well, smiling breathlessly.Nothing feels better than this.

I sag against his chest, damp with sweat and still trembling from the aftershocks. The room is quiet now, save for the sound of our breathing—ragged, uneven, like we’ve both run miles through a storm we didn’t see coming.

Nate’s arms stay wrapped around me, holding me in place like he’s afraid I’ll disappear if he lets go. His heartbeat thunders against my ear, a steady rhythm that grounds me in this moment, in this man.

I close my eyes, trying to calm the whirlwind still spinning inside me. My legs feel weak, useless. My skin hums with the ghost ofhis touch. I can still feel him inside me, warm and deep, like my body refuses to forget him.

His fingers move gently along my spine, slow and deliberate, like he’s mapping me. Memorizing me.

I sit up just enough to see his face—flushed, open, more vulnerable than I’ve seen him in years. His golden eyes flick up to mine, searching. “This wasn’t just about sex,” I murmur, more to myself than him.

His hand comes up to cradle my cheek. “No,” he says. “It never was.”

I swallow hard, emotion pressing up against the back of my throat. “We can’t do this at work.”

“I know.”

“You’re my boss now.”

His jaw flexes, but he nods. “I know.”

I run a hand through my tangled hair and slide off his lap slowly, wincing as soreness sets in. I grab the blanket and wrap it around myself, needing something to hold onto that isn’t him.

He watches me like he wants to say something—maybe everything—but instead, he just leans back against the headboard, silent.

The moment stretches between us, heavy with truth we haven’t unpacked. We crossed a line. No—weobliteratedit. And yet, I don’t feel regret. Not exactly. Just the terrifying awareness that nothing between us will ever be the same again.

“I need to think,” I say quietly, keeping my eyes on the floor.

“Okay. I’ll take you home”

By the time I reach my apartment, my mind is spinning in a dozen directions—half of them dangerous, all of them circling back to Nate.

What now? What next? What happens when we’re back in that office pretending we haven’t crossed a line we can never uncross?

The door creaks open under my hand, and I step inside, flicking on the light.

My apartment smells faintly of jasmine and cedar—my diffuser still running, and a half-full mug of tea on the counter, last night’s book face-down on the couch. Everything is exactly as I left it.

Except for the envelope lying on the floor just inside the door. My breath stills in my chest. No name. No return address. Just like the others.

I pick it up slowly, the flush of heat from earlier cooling into something sharper. I rip it open and unfold the paper inside.

“You're too beautiful to be messing around with that jerk,” I read aloud, my voice flat. My jaw clenches. Does it mean Nate?

I tear the note in half, then into quarters, my fingers moving with steady purpose. Whoever this person is, they clearly don’t know me.

They definitely don’t know I’m a wolf. I can take care of myself.My wolf always takes care of me.Whenever this creep decides to crawl out of the shadows and show his face, he’ll find out exactly what I’m made of.

Hospitals have never been my thing. I'm not the sort to fall sick often, but to be fair, most shifters aren't. That's exactly why my aunt being transported to the hospital is such a big deal for me.

I follow the instructions the nurse just gave me and find the room housing my aunt. A faint beeping sound permeates the air, but I am thankful it isn't from this room.

---