Alpha's Private Plaything (Elsa and Drake Stone) novel Chapter 14

Chapter 14

The office reeked of sex-our mingled scents heavy in the air. I could smell him all over me, marking me inside and out. I smoothed down

my ruined skirt, wincing at the torn stockings and the sticky evidence of our coupling running down my thighs.

“I’ll need to clean up,” I said, my voice hoarse. “And air out the office before someone smells what we did in here.”

Drake nodded, tucking himself away and straightening his clothing with an ease I envied. He looked immaculate again within seconds,

while I was thoroughly debauched.

As I wiped down the desk and couch with disinfectant wipes, trying to erase the evidence of what we’d done, I gathered my courage.

“I want to come back to headquarters,” I said, not looking at him. “I’ve done good work here, but I don’t belong in this fucking remote

location.”

Drake was silent for a moment. “The project is nearly complete. Once it’s done, you can return to your position.” His eyes lingered on me,

possessive and hungry. “We’re not finished, you and I.”

“No,” I agreed, feeling both dread and anticipation. “I suppose we’re not.”

“Come to my hotel,” he said, moving toward the door. “Room 302. Tonight.”

It wasn’t a request. My wolf wagged her tail eagerly, already anticipating more of what we’d just had.

I knocked on room 302 at precisely nine o’clock, wearing a simple black dress and carrying nothing but my key card and phone. The door opened immediately, as if he’d been waiting just on the other side.

Drake pulled me in roughly, kicking the door shut behind me. His mouth was on mine before I could speak, his hands already pushing the straps of my dress down my shoulders. The rich, earthy scent of his arousal filled my nostrils, making my knees weak.

“I can still smell myself on you,” he growled, his voice rough with possession. “But it’s not enough.”

We made it as far as the bathroom, where he turned on the shower and stripped us both naked with efficient movements. Under the hot spray, he lifted me against the tile wall, entering me in one powerful thrust.

“Fuck!” I gasped, my nails digging into his shoulders, drawing blood. “Drake-slow down-”

“Shut up,” he growled, setting a punishing pace. The sound of water drowned out my moans as he took me brutally, seemingly unable to

get enough.

I lost track of time as we moved from the shower to the bedroom, then back to the bathroom. He seemed possessed, desperate, like a man

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who’d been starving. By our third round, my body was sore, covered in marks from his mouth and hands-bites on my neck, bruises on my hips, my lips swollen from his kisses.

When he finally collapsed beside me on the bed, I was exhausted beyond words. We lay in silence, the only sound our heavy breathing. The sheets were soaked with sweat and other fluids, the room thick with the scent of sex.

“Did you go through some kind of rut?” I asked, my voice raspy. “Or were you just celibate these past two months?” I turned to look at his profile, a dangerous question forming on my lips. “You didn’t touch Vera?”

Drake went rigid beside me. The mention of her name was like dropping ice into boiling water. He sat up abruptly, reaching for the hotel

robe. I could feel the sudden wall between us, cold and impenetrable.

I leaned against the edge of the bed, my bathrobe hanging half-open as Drake stood by the window, his back rigid with tension. The

question about Vera still hung in the air between us, and I wasn’t backing down.

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