Page 24 of Shift Happens
“Don’t stop,” he demanded, fingers tangling in my hair to pull me into a fierce kiss. “Need you. All of you.”
I surrendered to his urgency, to my own building need, setting a pace that had us both gasping. One hand slipped between our bodies to wrap around his length, stroking in rhythm with my thrusts.
“Finn,” he cried, body tensing. “I’m close—I’m—”
“Let go,” I encouraged, feeling my own release approaching. “Come for me, Milo.”
His back arched, a sound that was half my name, half howl tearing from his throat as he came undone beneath me. The sight of him in pleasure, combined with the pulsing grip of his body around mine, pushed me over the edge. I buried myself deep inside him as my orgasm crashed through me, his name a prayer on my lips.
For several moments, we remained joined, breathing hard, bodies trembling with aftershocks. Slowly, carefully, I withdrew, gathering him against my chest as I shifted to lie beside him. His arms wrapped around me immediately, face pressed to my neck as he inhaled deeply.
“Perfect,” he murmured, voice drowsy with satisfaction. “Now the den smells right.”
I laughed softly, pressing a kiss to his forehead. “Is that what this was about? Scent marking the new arrangement?”
“Partly,” he admitted with a small smile. “But mostly I just wanted you.”
“You have me,” I assured him, tightening my arms around his smaller frame. “In this den and any other we build.”
He made a contented sound, settling more comfortably against me. Outside, late afternoon sunlight filtered through the curtains, casting warm patterns across our entwined bodies. The apartment felt different now—not just because of the rearranged furniture or the new decorations, but because it had transformed from my space to ours.
Chapter 11
As Milo dozed in my arms, I thought about the approaching full moon gathering and what it would mean to be introduced to his pack as a potential mate. The commitment implied should have been terrifying—we’d only known each other a few months, after all. But somehow, it felt right. As if the connection between us operated on a different timeline than conventional human relationships.
Perhaps that was part of being with a wolf shifter—learning to trust instincts over social conventions, to recognize when something was genuine regardless of how quickly it developed. Milo had known from scent and intuition that we were compatible in ways that transcended normal dating metrics. It had taken me longer to recognize it, but now I couldn’t imagine my life without his chaotic, loving presence.
I must have dozed off as well, because I woke to Milo pressing gentle kisses along my jaw.
“Mmm,” I mumbled, eyes still closed. “Nice way to wake up.”
“Thought you might be hungry,” he said. “It’s almost dinner time.”
I opened my eyes to find him propped on one elbow, watching me with unabashed affection. His hair was mussed, skin marked in places where I’d been less than gentle. He looked thoroughly claimed in the best possible way.
“Food would be good,” I agreed, reaching up to trace his cheekbone. “But I’m enjoying the view too much to move just yet.”
He smiled, leaning into my touch. “The view is pretty nice from here too.”
We stayed like that for a while, exchanging lazy caresses and soft kisses, neither in a hurry to break the peaceful moment. Eventually, though, hunger won out, and we reluctantly separated to clean up and dress.
In the kitchen, we moved around each other with practiced ease, preparing a simple meal together. Milo had become surprisingly adept at cooking for someone who claimed to have eaten most of his meals raw until recently. He had an intuitive sense for flavors that compensated for his initial unfamiliarity with human cooking techniques.
“So,” I said as we sat down to eat, “tell me more about what to expect at this full moon gathering. Will there be any other humans there?”
Milo shook his head. “Not this time. A few pack members have human partners, but they don’t usually attend full moon ceremonies. You’ll be the first in a while.”
“No pressure,” I muttered.
He reached across the table to squeeze my hand. “You’ll be fine. Everyone’s curious about you—I’ve talked about you a lot.”
“Oh god,” I groaned. “What have you told them?”
“Only good things,” he assured me, eyes twinkling. “How patient you are with clumsy wolves. How you rescued me during the thunderstorm. How you smell nice.”
“You told your pack I smell nice?”
“It’s a compliment!” he defended. “Scent compatibility is important to wolves.”
