Chapter 141 Miss Me?
Emily's POV
I could feel Mason behind me the second we stepped through the door, the weight of his presence somehow different from the usual quiet way he moved through the apartment. My hand was still on the doorknob when arms wrapped around me from behind, pulling me back against someone's chest, and for a split second my brain short-circuited.
Not Mason.
Too tall. Too solid. Different cologne.
I went rigid, my breath catching, and I felt Mason stop mid-step beside me. He made a small sound—confusion, maybe alarm—but then his voice came out steady.
"It's Alex."
My heart was still hammering, the adrenaline spike leaving my hands shaky even as my brain caught up. Alex's chin was against my shoulder now, his mouth close to my ear, and I could feel him smiling.
"Miss me?" he murmured, his voice low and amused.
I tried to pull forward, to shake him off, but his arms tightened around my waist. One hand slid down, slow and deliberate, and I felt his palm press against my hip over my skirt, then lower, curving over my ass and squeezing hard enough to make me gasp.
"Alex—let go—"
"No underwear," he said, his tone shifting from amused to something darker. His fingers dug in, testing the give of my skirt, and I felt heat flood my face. "Again."
I swallowed hard, trying to keep my voice even. "Some pervert stole them."
He laughed, quiet and rough against my ear. "Pretty sure I had someone return those to you."
I didn't answer. I couldn't. Because his hand was moving now, sliding from my ass toward my thigh, pushing my skirt up just enough to slip underneath. His fingers found the curve where my thigh met my hip, then kept going, dragging over bare skin until they reached the place I was already wet.
"So it's on purpose," he said, his voice dropping even lower. "You were waiting for me?"
"No," I managed, my breath hitching when his fingertips brushed against my clit, light and teasing. "I didn't—I didn't know you were coming. I thought Mason and I could just walk in and—"
I broke off, biting down on the rest of the sentence, but Alex didn't need me to finish.
"Walk in and what?" His hand on my breast yanked my blouse down hard enough that I heard a button pop. My bra was exposed now, the black lace stark against my skin, and I felt him lean down and catch the clasp between his teeth. "Fuck him on the couch?"
It took him maybe three seconds to undo it.
The bra fell loose, and his hand slid underneath, palming my breast and squeezing while his other hand stayed between my legs, his fingers circling and pressing in that maddening way that made my knees weak.
"Maybe," I said, my voice shaking but defiant. "Not like it's any of your business anymore."
His fingers stilled. I felt the tension in his body, the way his breath went short and sharp against my neck.
"Not my business," he repeated, his voice dangerously soft.
"You broke up with me," I shot back, even as my hips shifted forward involuntarily, chasing the friction he'd just taken away. "Remember?"
"And you didn't even try to stop me."
"Because you're a controlling asshole."
I heard him make a low sound, something between a laugh and a growl, and then his hand was gone from between my legs. For a second I thought he was going to let me go, but then I heard the sound of his belt buckle, the rasp of a zipper, and my stomach dropped.
"Alex—"
"Shut up," he said, his voice rough and raw, and then I felt him—hard and thick and real—pressing against me from behind.
He didn't give me time to argue. He pushed my skirt up to my waist, bent me forward just enough, and then he was inside me in one brutal thrust that knocked the air out of my lungs.
I cried out, my hands scrabbling for purchase against the wall, and I heard Mason's sharp intake of breath somewhere to my left. I turned my head, my vision swimming, and saw him standing frozen a few feet away, his eyes wide and dark and locked on where Alex and I were joined.
"Mason—" I started, but Alex pulled back and slammed into me again, and the words broke into a gasp.
"You were saying?" Alex murmured against my ear, his voice mocking and breathless. "Something about how it's none of my business?"
I tried to answer, but he set a rhythm that made it impossible to think, let alone speak. Hard and fast and relentless, one hand gripping my hip to hold me in place while the other slid up to wrap around my throat—not squeezing, just resting there like a reminder.
"Still gonna tell me you don't need me?" he said, his breath hot against my neck. "Gonna stand there and pretend you weren't dripping wet the second I touched you?"
I bit down on my lip, trying to swallow the sounds that wanted to claw their way out of my chest, but it was useless. Every thrust punched a broken moan out of me, and I could feel my body betraying me, clenching around him like it was trying to pull him deeper.
"Fuck you," I managed, my voice shaking and breathless. "You don't—ah—you don't own me—"
"No?" His hand tightened on my hip, his fingers digging in hard enough to bruise. "Then why are you taking my cock like you were made for it?"