Her sports bra felt too tight, and her leggings clung to legs that still trembled from what they'd done in her office. She'd never—never—lost control like that before. Not with Trent, not with anyone. Sex had always been pleasant enough, predictable, contained within the safe boundaries of a bedroom after appropriate buildup and consideration.
But what she'd just experienced with Adrian on her desk, surrounded by invoices and membership files, defied every careful rule she'd built around intimacy. The desire and raw need had been staggering. Like her body had been waiting her entire life for his touch, his mouth, and the way their bodies fit so perfectly together.
The memory sent another wave of heat spiraling through her core, and she pressed her lips together to stifle the soft sound that wanted to escape.
"You're thinking too hard," Adrian's voice cut through the night, low and rough with lingering arousal.
She glanced sideways at him. Even in the dim light, she could see the predatory grace in his movements, and the way his fitted t-shirt stretched across shoulders that had bracketed her body just minutes ago. The dark auburn of his hair was still mussed from her fingers, and something possessive and primal stirred in her chest at the sight.
"Am I not supposed to think right now?" she shot back, her defensive instincts flaring. "Because what just happened was?—"
"Intense," he finished quietly.
The simple honesty in his voice made her breath catch. Because he was right. It had been intense. Earth-shattering, even. The kind of connection she'd read about in books but never believed could exist in real life.
She'd been so lost in the moment, so consumed by the rightness of him moving inside her, that she'd begged him to mark her without fully understanding what those words meant. The memory of her own desperate voice—do it, I want to feel you—made her cheeks burn with embarrassment.
"I feel foolish," she admitted, the words scraping past her throat. "Getting upset when you didn't fully mark me. Especially after you explained what it actually means."
Adrian's pace slowed slightly, and she felt the weight of his attention like a physical thing. "You're not foolish. The mate bond... it's designed to be overwhelming. To bypass rational thought."
The half-mark on her left hip pulsed with a strange, warm burn that seemed to sync with her heartbeat. Two shallow claw marks that he'd left accidentally in the throes of his climax. Shewasn't angry—how could she be when she'd literally told him to do it? But the physical reminder of how close she'd come to permanent, irreversible change made her stomach flutter with equal parts terror and inexplicable longing.
"What will happen to me?" she asked quietly. "From the half-mark, I mean."
His jaw tightened, golden flecks sparking in his eyes as they passed under a streetlight. "I don't know exactly. It's not complete, but it's not nothing either. You might feel some of what I feel through the bond. Probably enhanced healing, maybe increased strength."
As if summoned by his words, a wave of emotion that wasn't her own crashed over her consciousness. Fierce protectiveness. Devotion so intense it made her knees weak. And underneath it all, a gnawing worry that tasted like guilt and regret.
His emotions. She was feeling what he felt.
The realization should have concerned her. Instead, it sent a thrill of possessive satisfaction through her veins. She could feel his devotion to her, the way he was already thinking of her as his to protect and cherish. It was intoxicating and overwhelming and completely contrary to everything she'd believed about maintaining her independence.
"I can feel you," she whispered, the admission pulled from her without permission.
Adrian stopped walking so abruptly she had to backtrack two steps. His eyes blazed in the darkness, more gold than blue now. "What do you feel?"
The intensity of his focus made her want to step back, but she held her ground. "Your protectiveness. Your worry about what you did to me." She paused, her voice dropping to a whisper. "Your devotion."
"Riley..."
"If I let you complete the mark," she continued, her heart hammering, "will it get stronger? Will I feel more of you?"
"Yes." The word was rough. "Everything would be amplified. You'd feel my emotions as clearly as your own. And I'd feel yours. We'd be connected in ways that go beyond the physical."
The thought should have sent her running. She'd spent her entire adult life avoiding exactly this kind of emotional entanglement. But some deep, primal part of her whispered that this was different. This wasright. The supernatural bond he'd described, the mate connection that defied logic and reason—she could feel its truth humming in her bones.
"This is insane," she breathed. "I just met you."
"I know." His voice was gentle now. "The rational part of your mind is fighting it because it doesn't make sense by human standards. But you feel it too, don't you? The pull between us?"
She did. God help her, she did.
"Yes," she whispered.
They walked in silence for the next ten minutes, and then the familiar brick facade of Riley's apartment building rose before them. She fumbled in her purse for her keys, hyperaware of Adrian's imposing presence beside her on the sidewalk. The half-mark on her hip continued its steady burn, a constant reminder of how thoroughly her world had shifted in the span of a few hours.
"Well," she began, turning toward him with what she hoped was casual confidence, "I guess I should?—"