Alpha's Private Plaything (Elsa and Drake Stone) novel Chapter 121

Chapter 121

“Elsa,” he groaned, his pace quickening. “My Elsa.”

Not yours, I thought, even as I clung to him. Not anymore. Not after

tonight.

My release built steadily, a tightening coil of pleasure that wound

tighter with each thrust. When it finally broke, I cried out his name-

not “Mr. Stone” or “sir,” but “Drake“-a final intimacy I allowed myself.

He followed moments later, his body tensing above me, a growl

rumbling from his chest as he buried his face in my neck, teeth

grazing the sensitive skin there but never breaking it. Never marking

me as truly his.

We lay tangled together afterward, my head on his chest, his fingers

tracing idle patterns on my back. In the quiet aftermath, I could

almost pretend we were normal lovers, sharing a moment of peace.

“What are you thinking?” Drake asked, his voice soft in the darkness.

That this is goodbye. I’ll be gone, and you’ll be nothing but a memory.

“Nothing important,” I lied, pressing a kiss to his chest to distract

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him.

Drake hummed, the sound vibrating against my cheek. “Ten years,” he

said again, as if the words held some special meaning. Perhaps they

did, to him.

I said nothing, letting sleep claim me in the arms of the man I’d spent

a decade both loving and hating.

Morning arrived with harsh sunlight streaming through windows we’d

forgotten to close. I woke alone in the rumpled sheets, the scent of

sex and Drake still heavy in the air.

He stood by the window, already dressed in his trademark black suit,

phone pressed to his ear as he spoke in low, commanding tones about

some business matter. As if last night had never happened. As if we

were nothing more than boss and employee once again.

On the chair beside the bed lay a new outfit–a sleek charcoal skirt

suit I recognized from my wishlist at an exclusive boutique. Drake’s

way of saying… what? Thanks for the anniversary sex? Here’s your

uniform for another day of servitude?

I slipped from the bed, wrapping the sheet around my naked body.

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Drake’s eyes flicked to me briefly before returning to his call,

dismissing me as easily as he always did the morning after.

And there it is, I thought bitterly. Same old shit, different day.

By the time I emerged from the bathroom, showered and dressed in

the new suit (which fit perfectly, of course), Drake was waiting by the

door, keys in hand.

“Ten minutes until we leave,” he said, his voice cool and professional.

No trace remained of the man who had whispered my name like a

prayer just hours ago.

I nodded, the familiar mask of professional efficiency sliding into

place. “Yes, Mr. Stone.”

We had reverted to our roles–the powerful Alpha and his obedient

assistant. The act we’d been performing for a decade,

But this time, I had no intention of following the script to the end.

Drake’s sleek black car waited at the hotel entrance, the driver

holding the door open. Drake strode directly to the vehicle without a

backward glance, assuming as always that I would follow.

I watched him slide into the backseat, his phone already in hand,

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attention elsewhere. He didn’t even look up when the minutes ticked

by and I failed to appear.

Finally, the driver approached the hotel entrance, confusion evident

on his face when he spotted me still standing there.

“Ms. Hale?” he called. “Mr. Stone is waiting.”

I shook my head, a small smile playing at my lips. “Not today. Please

tell Mr. Stone I had to leave–something urgent came up.”

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