Alpha's Private Plaything (Elsa and Drake Stone) novel Chapter 65

Chapter 65

Elsa

“What the fuck is this?” he growled, holding the jacket as if it were contaminated.

“A jacket. It’s cold outside.” Don’t react. Don’t give him the satisfaction.

“Not your jacket.” His nostrils flared as he inhaled deeply. “Lumin’s jacket. You reek of him.”

I tried to take it back, but Drake held it out of reach. My wolf bristled at his dominance display. Territorial bastard. He doesn’t

want me, but he doesn’t want anyone else to have me either.

“He lent it to me because there was a wine stain on my blouse. It was a courtesy.”

Drake examined the jacket with exaggerated disgust. “This thing is hideous. Is this what passes for fashion in Moon Shadow?”

His lip curled.

I felt my cheeks burn with humiliation, anger rising in my throat like bile. “Give me the jacket, Drake. I’m leaving.” Before I do

something we’ll both regret, like claw your smug face off.

Instead of complying, he moved to the door and locked it with a decisive click. The sound sent a chill down my spine, fear and

anticipation warring inside me.

“Why the rush?” he asked, his voice deceptively casual as he advanced toward me. “Got a date with Lumin later?”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” I said, backing up until my legs hit the desk. “It’s past three in the morning.”

Drake placed his hands on either side of me, caging me against the desk. The scent of him-sandalwood, whiskey, and pure

Alpha-surrounded me, making my head swim.

“You smell like him. It’s disgusting.”

Despite his cruel words, my traitorous body responded to his proximity, my pulse quickening, thighs tensing.

“If I disgust you so much, then let me leave,” I challenged.

His hand moved to my waist, fingers digging into my flesh. “You’re mine, Elsa. My employee. Mine.”

“I’m not yours,” I said, but my voice lacked conviction. “I’m contracted to the company, not to you personally.” Liar. You’ve

been his in every way.

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“Is that what you tell yourself?” he asked, leaning closer. “What you told Lumin?”

Before I could respond, his mouth crashed down on mine, tasting of whiskey and possessiveness. For a moment-one weak,

shameful moment-I responded, my body remembering the countless times we’d been together in this office. Heat rushed through me, my nipples hardening against my blouse, a shameful wetness gathering between my thighs.

His hands were everywhere at once, ripping buttons, pushing fabric aside. My skirt was shoved up around my waist as he lifted

me onto the desk, scattering papers and knocking over a pen holder.

“Turn around,” he growled, the command in his voice making my knees weak.

Against my better judgment, I complied, turning to face the desk as he pressed against me from behind. His hand slid up my

spine, then pushed between my shoulder blades, bending me over the cold surface. My cheek pressed against a contract we’d

been reviewing earlier.

“This is what you want,” he said, his voice rough as his hands gripped my hips. I could feel him, hard and ready, pressing

against me through the thin fabric of my underwear. “Not him. Me.”

My body betrayed me completely as he tugged my panties aside and pushed inside me with one powerful thrust. I gasped,

fingers scrambling for purchase on the smooth desktop as he began to move.

The desk creaked beneath us as he took me with possessive fury. My nails scratched against the polished wood, my body

responding to his familiar rhythm. I hated myself for wanting this, for needing him despite everything.

“Say it,” he demanded, his fingers digging into my hips hard enough to bruise. “Say you’re mine.”

“I’m yours,” I gasped, the words torn from me as pleasure built inside me. God, I hated how true it was.

Then he froze mid-thrust, nostrils flaring. He pulled back slightly, studying my scent with sudden intensity.

“You smell different,” he said, his voice suddenly cold. “Like medication. Hospital. And something else…”

Without warning, he withdrew completely and stepped back, leaving me bent over the desk, exposed and trembling.

I pushed my skirt down with shaking hands, humiliation burning through me as I turned to face him.

Drake stepped back as if burned, his expression unreadable. “Get your things and leave.”

I reached for Alexander’s jacket, but Drake snatched it away.

“Not this,” he growled. “You’re not taking his scent with you.”

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Chapter 65

“I need to return it to him,” I protested, anger flaring again.

Drake’s eyes flashed dangerously. Planning to see him again so soon? Using my company as an excuse to get close to a rival

alpha?”

‘It’s just a jacket, Drake.” You insecure, possessive asshole.

“It’s a statement,” he snarled. “You wearing his pack’s symbol, carrying his scent. You reek of him, Elsa. It’s disgusting. Your

body covered in another man’s smell-it’s filthy.”

The insult landed like a slap. Filthy? FILTHY? After everything I’ve done for you, everything I’ve sacrificed, you dare call me

filthy?

“Give me the jacket,” I said, my voice steady despite the storm raging inside me.

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