Alpha's Dark Desires

Chapter 39: NO

Elena POV:noveldrama

Stupid Alpha. Stupid, arrogant, insufferable Alpha with his insufferable... everything. And that stupid... fluffy. Damn him.

I was storming down the hall, muttering under my breath, caught up in my thoughts of all the ways I’d make him regret treating me like some plaything to test and tease. How dare he stand there and watch me while that—that—Ashley tried to humiliate me. And the way he just smirked, as if my anger was nothing more than a passing breeze... infuriating!

I barely heard his footsteps behind me, but suddenly, his voice rumbled from somewhere way too close. "Hey, as much as I like you wearing my clothes—and I do prefer you in them, especially around the unmated wolves you seem so eager to impress—I think you might need your own." His tone was lazy, smug, like he had nothing better to do than stand there and torment me.

I stopped dead in my tracks, my face going hot. Wait... had I actually said that out loud? Oh, goddess, help me.

Without looking back at him, I huffed, "I would have worn my own clothes if you weren’t such a caveman and had let me pack them and say goodbye to my parents." My voice was dripping with venom, but I kept walking, trying to put as much distance between us as possible. Didn’t matter where I was going, as long as it was far away from him and his maddening, smug smirk.

But, of course, the stupid Alpha didn’t take the hint.

"Well," he shot back, his tone so casual it made my skin prickle, "if you hadn’t been so hell-bent on running away from me, maybe I wouldn’t have had to act like a caveman."

I grit my teeth, not willing to give him the satisfaction of a response. Arguing with him felt like dancing with a wolf ready to pounce—he always had some sly retort, some way of twisting my words back on me, and damn it, I was already exhausted. But I couldn’t help it; he just got under my skin like no one else.

"If you weren’t so stupid," I muttered under my breath, "you would’ve figured out by now that I don’t want to be here."

I barely had time to regret the words before I felt myself pushed his body following suit behind me, pressed up against the nearest wall in one swift, overwhelming movement. One second, I was storming away, the next, his body was pinning me there, every inch of him caging me in. His heat surrounded me, his breath brushing against my neck, and I fought to ignore the rush of... well, something dangerously close to excitement. While my front was being pressed against the wall I felt his whole body behind me....and I mean everything.

His mouth was so close to my ear I could feel the warmth of it as he spoke, his voice low and gravelly. "This is the second time you’ve called me stupid," he murmured, his tone dark and heavy with a promise of consequences. "Me and my wolf... we don’t take kindly to that, little mate."

Damn it. Why did his voice have to sound like that? Why did every syllable he whispered against my skin make my knees go weak?

"Then stop acting like one," I retorted, hoping it sounded as snarky as I meant it, but it came out more like... well, more like a breathless moan. Shit. My head felt foggy, my thoughts muddled up, and his hand was tracing a slow, agonizingly gentle line down my side, following every curve like he was learning them by heart.

I bit back a whimper as his mouth traveled down to my earlobe, teeth grazing over sensitive skin. His teeth scraped, then nipped, and... goddess help me, did he have to bite there?

He chuckled softly, like he knew exactly what he was doing to me, like he could feel my resolve crumbling beneath his touch. "Why," he murmured, his voice rough against my skin, "are you so hell-bent on resisting me?"

Because I hate you, I wanted to say. The words were right there, but they stuck in my throat as his fingers found the curve of my waist, slipping under the hem of his oversized shirt I’d stolen and making my breath catch. He wasn’t even doing anything... just tracing lazy circles over my skin, his touch maddeningly gentle.

But my traitorous body was already responding to him, arching into his hands, my skin prickling with need. Damn it, didn’t it know we were supposed to hate him? That he was the enemy?

"Because I hate you," I finally managed, though my voice sounded strained, even to my own ears. I tried to will my body to listen, to remember that I didn’t want this. But his hands were roaming, his fingers digging in just enough to make me shiver, and the words started feeling hollow, even to me.

He made a soft, amused sound, his fingers skimming down my side and leaving a trail of fire in their wake. "You say that," he murmured, his lips brushing over the spot on my neck where he’d one day mark me, "but your body seems to be saying something else."

I swallowed hard, fighting to ignore the thrill that shot through me when his teeth grazed that sensitive spot. The one that called to him, called to his wolf, like it was waiting for his claim. Damn him, and damn my body for responding to him, even now, even when I knew exactly how dangerous he was.

"Maybe my body just... isn’t very smart," I shot back, though my voice sounded more breathless than defiant.

He chuckled, the sound rumbling from his chest against my back. "Oh, I don’t know. I think it’s pretty smart... smart enough to know exactly what it wants." His mouth moved lower, and my breath hitched as his hands gripped my hips, pulling me back against him, his hard body pressing into mine.

"Why do you have to be so... so... infuriating?" I managed, my voice coming out as more of a gasp than anything else. His scent surrounded me, that intoxicating blend of woods and masculinity and... something unmistakably him, making it harder and harder to remember why I was supposed to hate him.

"Because it’s fun watching you fight it," he murmured, his hands sliding up my sides, making my head spin. "You’re so used to running, so hell-bent on resisting, you don’t even realize how close you are to giving in."

"I’m not giving in," I whispered, though it sounded weak even to my own ears.

"No?" He leaned down, his lips hovering just over my shoulder, his breath hot on my skin. "Then why aren’t you pushing me away?"

That question hung in the air between us, thick with tension, with something unspoken that neither of us was quite ready to acknowledge. His hand slid down, fingers grazing my thigh, and I couldn’t help the shiver that ran through me. Every touch, every whispered word was breaking down my walls, one by one, until all I could feel was him—his warmth, his strength, the way he fit against me as if we’d been made for each other.

"Say the word," he murmured, his voice low, almost gentle. "Tell me to stop, and I will."

The words were right there, caught on the tip of my tongue. But my mouth wouldn’t move, and my body betrayed me, pressing back against him instead, craving more of his touch, more of the heat that had started to pool low in my belly. Damn it, why did he have to feel so... right?

But I didn’t say a word. I didn’t tell him to stop.

As if a bucket of cold water had been splashed over me, all the warmth, the pull, everything inside me that had been singing in tune to him—just stopped. Snuffed out like a candle. Because suddenly, I remembered her. Ashley. The thought of them together flashed through my mind, raw and vivid, like a slap to the face. He’d been with her, touched her, maybe even whispered the same things in her ear. And that, my friend, gave me all the strength I needed.

"No," I said, my voice steadier than I felt. I planted both hands on the wall and pushed, hard. He stumbled back, his expression shifting from shock to... something I didn’t have time to decipher. But I could see the surprise in his eyes, that moment of "did that really just happen?" And if I weren’t so angry, I might have enjoyed it.

"You don’t get to touch me with the same hands that touched that... bimbo Ashley," I spat, my words sharp and bitter. His eyes widened, like he was about to respond, but I didn’t give him the chance. I turned on my heel, marching back to the room I’d woken up in, not caring if he was staring after me. Not caring about anything except getting away from him and his damn touch.

The door slammed behind me with a satisfying thud, the sound echoing through the hallway. For a moment, I just stood there, breathing hard, my fists clenched, trying to shake off the residual heat of his touch. But damn it... this room. This room was a problem. It smelled like him—his scent thick in the air, lingering in the blankets, clinging to every surface.

I wanted to hate it. I wanted to throw open a window and let the fresh air sweep it all away. But my fingers wouldn’t move to unlatch the window, and my body refused to go anywhere else. That maddening, woodsy, smoky scent that was uniquely his... it seeped into my lungs, into my veins, despite my best efforts to ignore it.

The whole thing was infuriating. He was infuriating. I hated how easily he got under my skin, how just a few whispered words and heated glances had me wanting to throw every bit of resistance out the window. And all the while, he’d been with someone else. He thought he could have it both ways—that he could test me, push me, make me feel something, all while some other woman was in the background, completely disposable.

Well, he was wrong. He didn’t get to have me whenever he felt like it. I wasn’t some... some toy he could just pick up and put down whenever he wanted.

I sank down onto the bed, feeling the weight of it all, the anger and confusion swirling together until I didn’t know if I wanted to scream or cry or both. One thing was clear, though. No matter how much my body seemed to respond to him, no matter how hard he made it to resist... he wasn’t going to win me over with a few heated glances and halfhearted words.

If he wanted anything from me, he was going to have to work for it.

With a huff, I yanked the blankets over my head, blocking out the sight of his room—and, at least a little bit, his scent. I didn’t care how "perfectly matched" we were supposed to be. If Kane thought he could waltz in, treat me like some conquest, and expect me to just fall in line... he was in for one hell of a surprise.