Chapter 63 - Emily

**EMILY**

Emily opened her lips slightly and offered herself to him longingly.

“No,” Alexander said, his gaze suddenly stern. It covered his face like an invisible veil. He took a step back and studied her intensely. “This is a dress for a hooker. I didn’t send it to you.”

His words hit her like a cold shower. Stunned, Emily opened her eyes wide, trying to understand what he was accusing her of. When the tiny nothing of a dress had arrived at her house, she had first stared at it in horror. But now that he claimed he hadn’t sent it to her... Her heart began to beat violently and painfully. Oh... my... God... He was probably right! The dress must have come from the agency. There was no note, no clue, nothing.

Apparently, Alexander could tell from her face what she was thinking, because they both screamed at the same time: “Oliver!”

“I’ll kill him!” Emily hissed angrily.

“He’ll pay for this!” Alexander growled with a scowl.

But her anger quickly faded. While Alexander was still speaking, she looked down in remorse. “What are we going to do now? If you didn’t want this...” She pointed to the fluttering strips of cloth. “...then it’s probably inappropriate for what you have planned for today. Or am I wrong?”

Growling, he grabbed her hand and pulled her along without another word. He was a little too quick and she stumbled. He caught her quickly, wrapping his hand tightly around her waist. She felt his warm touch through the coarse mesh of the cardigan. Oh God, the way he made her tingle was irresistible!

“Alexander, honey moon,” she moaned, pouting and sticking out her lower lip. “When you touch me like that and get so angry with me, I really suffer terribly.”

“Stop it, Emily,” he replied sharply. “This blonde fool doesn’t suit you. That dress is worthy of a Venus. So present yourself with appropriate pleasure.” Despite his harsh words, she saw a gleam of amusement in his eyes, and Emily realized that she was far from losing the game. He had more feelings for her - definitely!

“What do you mean?” she asked challengingly, moving closer to him. “That I should touch my breasts and rub my nipples until they stand out hard through the thin fabric? Or should I reach between your legs and rub your cock until it pushes hard through the fabric?”

“Emily!” he growled, pulling her violently against him. He pressed his lips wildly and greedily to hers. She willingly took his tongue in her mouth. Moaning, she rubbed her belly against him, fighting a hot battle with his tongue and feeling the sensations of pleasure drive her to orgasm. His closeness was pure madness! He held her so tight that she could feel the hardness against her belly. She didn’t need to use her hand to stimulate him, he was as hot for her as she was for him! She let her tongue slide deeper into his mouth, enjoying how he pushed into her fiercely. Eventually she pulled her tongue out completely and pressed against him. He continued to push his tongue against her palate, then further, and when he reached the back of her throat, she had to gag. But he held her head mercilessly, giving her little time to recover from the deep licking. Her whole body was aching for more, so much more. Moaning, she rubbed against him and was about to lift her right leg to wrap it around his hip when he abruptly pulled away.

He stared at her, panting heavily. “Emily Saron, I don’t know what to do with you!”

“Spank my ass, tie me to the bed and fuck me,” she said, breathless with pleasure. “But don’t send me away without fucking me again. I can’t stand it.”

Instead of answering, he kissed her forehead, took her hand, and this time, slowly and carefully, pulled her into the museum. Disappointed, she followed him. What was wrong with her request? Unfortunately, he didn’t explain. Instead, he took her on a short tour of the museum and then put her in the car she had come in.

“Aren’t you getting in?” she asked, confused.

“No, Emily, I still have some work to do,” he replied, slamming the door and stepping back. She stared at him in disbelief and couldn’t understand it. She knew very well that he had no clients near the museum. Maybe it was an advantage that she was also his accountant. But what did she gain from this knowledge? She was still sitting alone in the car being driven home.

This visit to the museum had been a complete failure. He had piqued her interest and yet avoided her. Then he had told her that he was going on a business trip for a week and a half and would not be back until the end of the following week. Hence today’s meeting at the museum. He wanted to give the journalists something to talk about before the break. And with that frivolous dress, the reporters really had enough fuel for the fire!

The next meeting was scheduled for the Saturday after his return, at ten o’clock in front of the shopping mall, dressed appropriately. He probably wanted to have the option to buy her something else if she didn’t like it.

Emily almost told him that he wasn’t allowed to arrange meetings with her; everything had to be done through the agency. But then she didn’t. Deep down she knew that this had become much more than just an escort job, at least for her. Even though she tried desperately to resist it, she had fallen in love with her boss. His dominance, his charm, his sensual charisma made her heart beat faster. Whenever she was around him, she felt butterflies in her stomach.

The driver stopped in front of her apartment and opened the door. She thanked him, got out and hurried into her apartment. Although she was angry at Oliver for ruining her day with that dress, she felt the hot flashes burning in her body. She looked at herself in the dressing room mirror. Her cheeks were flushed. Her breathing was shallow and fast. She slowly removed the cardigan, looking at the narrow strips that barely covered her breasts. She caressed the fabric and her nipples instantly hardened and pressed against the satin.

“Oh, my God,” Emily moaned. She then pulled the strips aside and watched herself caress her breasts in the mirror. She circled her fingers around her nipples, then pulled and pinched, gasping with pleasure as pain and pleasure mixed. Hot waves shot through her and she squeezed her thighs together. The pressure on her clit was enough to bring her to a violent orgasm. As the waves of pleasure made her body shake, she kneaded her breasts, prolonging the sensual quake. It was wonderful!

Slowly, she unbuckled the belt that held the fabric straps, then let the dress fall to the floor. The nude panties were dark with her moisture. She pulled them down and carefully stepped out of them on her high heels. Very slowly she turned around in front of the mirror. She looked incredibly sexy, completely naked on the high heels. Fresh desire welled up inside her and she wished Alexander was there now to see her like this.

She slid one hand down her flat stomach until it reached her smooth shaved pussy. Heat and moisture flowed to her. Although she had just had an orgasm, she was far from satisfied. She wanted a hard, hot fuck. But Alexander Fitzpatrick wasn’t going to give it to her. Why not?

As she rubbed her clit and threw her head back, moaning, she thought of her boss, his brown, seductive eyes, his dark, sensual voice, and his hard, unyielding grip. Her finger plunged deep into the wetness, sliding as if by itself into the hot slit. “Oh yes,” she moaned, inserting another finger. She stared at herself in the mirror, saw the reddened skin, watched her fingers slide in and out. With her other hand, she kneaded her breasts, twisting her nipples and pulling them out. “Alex,” she breathed, pushing herself harder and then penetrating herself with three fingers, thinking constantly of the dominant CEO. With a small scream, she came to the next orgasm, twitching and shaking, the hot flesh pulsing around her fingers. Finally, exhausted, she sank to the floor.

“Alexander, why don’t you fuck me?” she whispered. She licked her fingers slowly. Why didn’t he have a wife, a real girlfriend? Did he have a private gym or even a personal trainer and that’s why he could just leave her standing there when his dick was hard against his pants? Because he knew that after meeting her, another woman would bring him to orgasm? But that didn’t make sense! Why would he refuse her offer to be fucked by him, only to have his cock sucked by another woman who hadn’t turned him on at all?

Emily’s eyes widened as a new thought occurred to her. “Is he bisexual and needs a man to make him come? That’s why he needs hostesses? So no one will know that he can be aroused by women but needs men to be sexually happy?”