Page 16 of Falling for My Shifter Boss

His words send me over the edge. Pleasure explodes within me, my body convulsing around him as waves of ecstasy crash through me. I cry out his name, my voice echoing through the forest, wild and free.

Adrian's body tenses, his cock pulsing within me as he finds his own release. He groans, his face buried in the crook of my neck, his body shuddering with the force of his orgasm. I hold him close, my arms wrapped around him, my body still trembling with the aftershocks of pleasure.

We lie there for a moment, our bodies entwined, our breaths slowly returning to normal. Adrian lifts his head, his storm-gray eyes meeting mine. There's a softness in his gaze, a vulnerability I've never seen before.

"You're incredible," he murmurs, his voice barely a whisper.

I smile, my heart swelling with emotion. "You're not so bad yourself, Mr. Blackwell."

He chuckles, a low, warm sound that sends shivers down my spine. "Is that so?"

I nod, my fingers tracing the sharp lines of his face, memorizing the way his skin feels beneath my touch. "That's so. Though I must admit, I never expected this. Never expected us."

His expression turns serious, his storm-gray eyes searching mine, as if trying to decipher something unspoken. "Neither did I."

It’s then that I realize—he hasn’t bitten me. And I haven’t bitten him. Here we are, still teetering on the edge of something unfinished. A choice neither of us has made yet.

I whisper, “Does this mean you want to complete the mating?”

His breath hitches, tension tightening his jaw. But before he can answer, a distant howl shatters the moment, yanking us back to reality.

The pack is calling us back.

Reality crashes in.

For a long second, neither of us moves. Then, without a word, Adrian pulls away, his expression unreadable.

The warmth of his body disappears as he shifts back into his wolf and takes off toward the sound.

I stare after him, my heart pounding.

And I wonder if that was my last chance.

If the moment we just shared is already slipping away.

Chapter 8

Adrian

Monday morning.

I should be focused. The gala is in a week, security reports need reviewing, and the threat of True Humanity looms larger with each passing day. But none of that matters right now. Not when Maya Ramirez is walking through my office, her scent curling around me like a damn siren call, making it impossible to think about anything but the way she felt in my arms that night.

My wolf is restless, pacing beneath my skin, demanding that I go to her, that I finish what we started in the forest.

We hadn't talked about it—what it meant. Whatwemeant.

I should have said something. Asked her if she wanted this. But I hadn't. And now, in the cold light of day, I don't know where we stand.

The fear coils in my gut like a cold, heavy stone—the same fear that's haunted me since the night I lost Sarah. My sister's death taught me that loving someone means giving them the power to destroy you. My wolf bristles at these human doubts, sees only the undeniable truth—Maya is ours to protect, to claim, to cherish. Since Saturday night, these primal instincts have been riding me hard, making it impossible to think clearly. Every molecule in my body screams at me to go to her, mark her, keep her safe.

I barely slept. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw her—pressed against me, her breath warm against my lips, her hands clutching my shoulders, pulling me closer instead of pushing me away.Mine.

The word hums through me like a drumbeat, primal and absolute.

I shove the thought down, gripping the edge of my desk until the wood creaks in protest. Sawyer and Eli are expecting a full breakdown of our intel later this morning, and I need my head in the game. The hunters are getting bolder, their presence near Whispering Pines an undeniable threat. The gala is a prime target, and if they plan on making a move—

Maya walks past my office again, oblivious to the way my eyes track her. She's wearing a fitted black blouse and a high-waisted skirt, her dark curls piled into a loose bun at the nape of her neck. Professional. Sophisticated. The sight of that exposed curve of her neck makes my wolf snarl.

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