Chapter 92
Elsa
Fuck, not like this. Not with people right outside.
“Drake,” I whispered urgently, trying to push against his chest.
“Someone’s outside.”
He didn’t even pause. Instead, his hands gripped my thighs tighter,
lifting me higher against the leather sofa. “Let them hear,” he
growled, pushing deeper inside me with a force that made my back
arch involuntarily.
I gasped as he stretched me to my limit, the sensation of his thick
length overwhelming my resistance. My inner walls clenching around
him even as my mind screamed in protest. A wave of slick heat
gushed between us.
“Please,” I begged, my voice barely audible. “Not like this. Too deep.
There’s someone-” My words dissolved into a choked moan as he
changed angles, the swollen head of his cock hitting that spot deep
inside that made stars explode behind my eyelids.
I hate him. I hate this. I hate that it feels so fucking good.
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“Let them know who you belong to,” Drake said, his pace increasing.
His eyes had that predatory golden glow that appeared whenever his
wolf was close to the surface. One hand snaked up to wrap around my
throat, applying just enough pressure to make my pulse jump wildly.
My body betrayed me with each brutal thrust, responding to his
dominance even as my mind rebelled. I bit my lip to keep from crying
out, tasting blood as I tried to maintain some small shred of dignity.
His free hand moved between us, thumb circling my swollen clit with
merciless precision. The dual stimulation made my thighs quiver
uncontrollably, my hips bucking up to meet his thrusts despite my
mental resistance.
“Look at you,” he growled, his breath hot against my ear. “Fighting it
even as your sweet cunt begs for more.” He punctuated his words with
a particularly deep thrust that made me see stars, my inner walls
clamping down on him as if desperate to keep him inside.
One more fucking week. One week and I’ll never have to spread my
legs for this bastard again.
The phone on his desk rang, shrill and demanding. Drake’s lips curled
into a cruel smile, his cock still pulsing inside me, stretching me in ways that sent unwanted pleasure spiraling through my core.
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“Answer it,” he commanded, never breaking his rhythm. If anything,
his thrusts became deeper, more deliberate, each one ending with a
grinding motion that pressed against my most sensitive spots.
My eyes widened in horror. “What? I can’t-”
“Answer. The. Phone.” Each word was punctuated with a thrust that
made my vision blur, sending waves of unwanted pleasure rippling
through me. His hand moved from my throat to my hair, yanking my
head back to expose my neck.
This sadistic asshole is getting off on my humiliation. And my stupid
omega body loves it.
He reached over and hit the speaker button, his other hand still
gripping my hip with bruising force.
“Mr. Stone’s office,” I managed to say, fighting to keep my voice
steady while he continued to move inside me. I could feel every ridge
and vein of his cock as he deliberately slowed his pace, dragging the
sensation out until I was trembling with the effort not to moan.
“Elsa?” Kayla’s concerned voice filled the room. “We’re all waiting in
the conference room. It’s been fifteen minutes past the scheduled
time.”
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Drake’s eyes locked with mine as he continued to move inside me, daring me to give us away. His thumb returned to my clit, circling it
with agonizing slowness.
The humiliation burned through me, settling like acid in my stomach,
but some dark, primal part of me responded to his dominance. A fresh
rush of slick heat coated his length, the obscene wet sounds
thankfully too quiet for the phone to pick up.-
“I’m-” I gasped as he hit a particularly sensitive spot, sending
electric shocks of pleasure up my spine. He chose that exact moment
to drive into me harder, forcing me to bite back a moan that
threatened to escape. “I’m sorry, Kayla. We’re just… finishing up some
important… matters.”
Drake’s mouth curved into a satisfied smirk. His free hand moved to
my breast, roughly kneading the sensitive flesh before pinching my
nipple through the thin fabric of my blouse. The sharp sensation shot
straight to my core, forcing a shudder through my body.
“Should we reschedule?” Kayla asked.
Drake leaned forward, his lips brushing my ear. “Tell her half an
hour.” His tongue traced the shell of my ear before he bit down on the
lobe, hard enough to make me whimper. At the same time, he drove
into me with renewed vigor, his pelvis grinding against my clit with
each thrust.
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Chapter 92
I hate you. I hate you so fucking much right now.
Comments
Cedella is a passionate storyteller known for her bold romantic and spicy novels that keep readers hooked from the very first chapter. With a flair for crafting emotionally intense plots and unforgettable characters, she blends love, desire, and drama into every story she writes. Cedella’s storytelling style is immersive and addictive—perfect for fans of heated romances and heart-pounding twists.

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