What He Craves Read online

  WHAT HE CRAVES (WHAT HE WANTS, BOOK TWO)

  (AN ALPHA BILLIONAIRE ROMANCE)

  by Hannah Ford

  Copyright 2015, Hannah Ford, all rights reserved.

  This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to any persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Noah

  She was so innocent that first night. Her shirt unbuttoned, her skirt hiked up, those full lush breasts straining against the fabric of her bra. I’d tied her wrists to my bed using my tie and she looked up at me, waiting for instructions.

  “Are you ready?” I asked her.

  “Please,” she moaned. “Please, Noah, I need you to fuck me.”

  “I already told you. You’re not in charge of this. I am.”

  I laid my body down on top of hers, my hands running over those gorgeous curves. Just the sight of her lying there was making my cock rock hard. Her hips were full, her stomach soft with just the slightest curve. I took my time, letting my hands roam over her smooth skin, teasing her with my touch.

  “Noah,” she whimpered.

  I kissed her neck, then slid the cups of her bra down, letting those beautiful round tits out. I ran my fingertip gently over her nipple. It was taking every ounce of my self-control not to take her right then and there, to just slide my dick inside her and fuck her until she came, the way I’d done in the alley. She’d been such a good girl then, letting me have my way with her, not asking questions, just giving me what I wanted, trusting me completely. Of course, things were more complicated now that she was technically working for me.

  But I didn’t care.

  I wanted her to submit to me, to do whatever I asked of her. She stared up at me eagerly, her eyes big and wide, her skin soft and supple. She wanted to please me, and that made my cock about ready to explode. But I needed to take this slow. The things I wanted from her needed to be approached delicately.

  “Are you wet?” I asked her.

  She nodded.

  “Do you want me to make you come?”

  She groaned again, her hips writhing on the bed.

  “No, Charlotte.” I reached my hands out and held her steady. “Stay still.”

  I unbuttoned her skirt, then slid it off.

  Her panties were wet, the folds of her pussy visible through the sheer material of her thong.

  I pushed her legs open. “Beg me.”

  Charlotte

  I was laying on Noah’s bed, my hands tied to his bedpost. My skirt was off, my shirt unbuttoned, my bra pulled down. It was the most vulnerable I’d ever been in my life, and also the most turned on. I hadn’t been able to stop thinking about him ever since what we’d done in the alley, and now I remembered why.

  He was so goddamned sexy. His touch, the way he ran his hands over my body, the way his eyes blazed when he looked at me…it made me feel pretty and desirable and gorgeous, all at the same time. The only other man I’d ever had sex with – my college boyfriend, Dan – had made me feel ashamed of my body, like I needed to cover it up.

  But Noah…

  The way he was looking at me right now, the way his eyes raked over my body, the way he tied me up like he wanted to put me on display…. I felt like the sexiest woman in the world.

  He’d pulled my bra down and taken my skirt off, and then pushed my legs open, making it clear he was in control of this whole situation.

  “Beg me,” he demanded.

  “Please.”

  “Please what?” He pushed my panties to the side, and his finger slid slowly down my slit. I was wet, slick, ready for him.

  “Please fuck me.” The words sounded foreign on my tongue, dangerous and delicious.

  Noah grinned at me, a wicked grin that made it clear he knew the effect he was having on me, and that he enjoyed it. His finger slid inside of me slowly, his thumb making a lazy circle on my clit. He played with me for what seemed like forever, his eyes never leaving mine, the electricity between us thrumming through the room. He would take me right to the edge and then pull away, varying the pressure on my clit, driving me out of my mind.

  “Please,” I whimpered. I moved my hips, trying to push into his hand.

  “Stay still,” he growled, grabbing me and pinning me to the bed again.

  I bit my lip and tried not to moan. I was starting to figure out the game – the more I begged, the more it seemed like I wanted it, the more he would take it away. And yet he wanted me to beg, wanted me to plead with him to give me what I wanted. It was an exquisite torture.

  His fingers kept moving as he kissed my stomach, his mouth warm, the stubble on his chin brushing against my skin. He kissed his way all the way down until he was between my legs. Then he looked me in the eye again, his breath coming so hard I could feel it on my inner thighs, warm and delicious.

  I wanted to scream, that’s how turned on I was. I wanted to beg him to fuck me, to lick me, to finger me, whatever he wanted to do, I would let him.

  But I knew I needed to stay still and quiet.

  So I bit my lip and waited.

  His mouth twitched up into a knowing grin, and a look of approval crossed his face.

  He lowered his mouth and his tongue slid over my clit. I couldn’t take it anymore. I moaned and writhed on the bed, trying as best as I could to push myself against him.

  He must have decided to take pity on me, because even though I was breaking the rules, he moved faster, licking me, tasting me, his mouth devouring me. The motion became rhythmic, and soon I was riding that wave again, feeling my orgasm building and ready to wash over me.

  I pulled down on my restraints, holding them tight, tensing and waiting for the release. I was so close to the edge, and I was afraid if he stopped I might go insane, but he didn’t. He kept going, his mouth moving faster, the pressure building until I couldn’t take it anymore.

  I cried out as I came, and he held my hips steady as he moved his lips, his tongue, his fingers against me. Wave after wave of intense pleasure pulsed through my body, seeming to last forever.

  When it was over, my body relaxed, every one of my muscles turning to jelly. My breath came in ragged gasps. I had never felt such pleasure, never felt so sexy, so desirable, so turned on.

  But Noah wasn’t done with me yet.

  He stood up and unbuttoned his shirt, tossing it onto the floor. His chest was broad and chiseled, gorgeous pecs and ripped abs that slid down into the perfect V of his hips. He shucked his pants and boxers next, his huge cock standing at attention.

  He laid his body onto me, and wrapped me around him, making me feel small and vulnerable. Then he stripped me, starting with my shirt, sliding it slowly down my shoulders before unhooking my bra.

  He leaned my body back, cupping my breasts in both his hands and pulling them into his mouth. I could feel his cock, hard against my wet panties, which he’d pushed to the side when he’d been licking me. It rubbed against my clit, and I started to get wet again as he sucked my nipples.

  “I’m going to fuck you now,” he said. He laid me all the way back on the bed, and pulled my panties off, then grabbed me and pulled me back up so that I was sitting in his lap. He slid me down on his cock, holding me steady so that even though I was on top, he was still the one in control.

  I wrapped my legs around him and he pulled me close, filling me with his dick. He moved inside of me, guiding me, moving me up and down on his rock hard cock.

  I could feel another orgasm building inside of me, even though I’d just come a minute ago.

  “Fuck me,” I breathed. “Please, Noah, fuck me.”

  He began pumping into me, drilling me harder and faster. We were both breathing heavily, our bodies falling into a perfect rhythm.

  “I’m going to come,” he groaned, shuddering as he cam
e. As I felt the first spurt, I came too, my pussy contracting on his dick as he shot inside of me.

  We collapsed onto the bed, spent.

  I went to grab the blanket and pull it over me, but Noah grabbed my hand gently. “Don’t,” he said, sliding a finger down my side. “I like looking at you.” He gave me that same look, his eyes raking over my naked body, the desire evident on his face, even though he’d just had me.

  After a second, he got up and disappeared into the master bathroom. He returned wearing a pair of gray cotton pajama pants and no shirt. The muscles of his arms bulged, and I took in his body, marveling at its beauty, and trying not to feel intimidated.

  He crossed the room to his dresser, pulled out a long-sleeved t-shirt and a pair of boxer shorts which he set on the bed for me.

  He kissed me forehead. “Get dressed,” he said. “And then meet me in the kitchen.”

  He left and I rolled onto my back, staring up at the ceiling. I could not believe this was happening. I, Charlotte Holloway, had had sex twice in one night, with the most beautiful man I’d ever laid eyes on. And he’d made me come three times. I’d had orgasms before, but not like this. This was…just… I didn’t know what this was.

  I’d never thought that sex with someone you didn’t know could be so amazing. I’d always thought that you needed to have some kind of a deep connection, that you needed to be emotionally invested in the person in order for you to experience this kind of physical pleasure.

  Was that just what I’d been taught to believe, as a woman? That we needed to be emotionally connected to our partners? Was it all a fallacy? Was it possible that you could just have mind-blowing sex with someone you barely knew?

  It seemed like it.

  After all, this was the best sex I’d had, and granted, I didn’t have much to compare it to. But still.

  I looked at the clothes Noah had left for me. I picked them up and took them into the bathroom. I washed my face and looked at myself in the mirror. My hair was slightly disheveled, my face flushed. My wrists had faint red marks on them from where he’d tied me – I wasn’t sure if it was from just now, when he’d tied me to the bed, or if it was from earlier, in the alley, when he’d tied me with the candy bracelet from Cora’s bachelorette party. That was just a few hours ago, and yet it seemed like forever. So much had happened in such a short time.

  I started pulling on Noah’s boxers, wondering if they were going to fit. I could never borrow Dan, my college boyfriend’s, clothes because I’d always had to worry about them being too small. I had big boobs, a big butt, curvy hips. But Noah’s t-shirt and boxers were baggy on me. I breathed in his scent and then shut the light off and went to find him in the kitchen.

  When I got there, he was peering into the refrigerator.

  “Are you hungry?” he asked.

  “Starving.” I sat down at one of the stools that was in front of the marble breakfast bar. Everything in Noah’s kitchen was sleek and modern– marble countertops, gleaming stainless steel refrigerator, a double wall oven. It looked like it could be in a magazine spread, with Noah as the model.

  I should have been tired, because I’d only gotten a couple hours of sleep before Josh had called about getting down to campus. But I wasn’t. I was wide awake. More than wide awake – full of energy, wired on… I wasn’t sure what. Lust? Passion? The afterglow of amazing sex?

  “Right.” Noah started pulling containers out of the refrigerator. His back was just as built as his front, his shoulders broad and strong, the muscles sharply defined.

  I shivered.

  He turned around. “Are you cold, Charlotte?”

  “No.” I shook my head. “I’m not cold.”

  He set down an assortment of food on the breakfast bar– blueberry bagels, apple Danish, maple croissants, cinnamon butter, cream cheese, and tiny cheesecakes swirled with chocolate. There was a French press sitting on the counter, and he brought me over some coffee in a tiny white cup.

  “I don’t drink coffee,” I said.

  “Nonsense,” he said, setting it down in front of me. “Every lawyer drinks coffee, Charlotte. It’s good for you.”

  “No, it isn’t.”

  “Yes, it is.”

  “Caffeine can lead to adrenal fatigue,” I reported. I reached over and grabbed a croissant.

  “Oh, yeah?” He seemed amused. “And where did you hear that?”

  “I read it in the American Journal of Medicine.”

  “And do you routinely read the American Journal of Medicine?”

  I shrugged. “I used to read it a lot. Back when…” Back when I wanted to be a doctor. But I didn’t want to get into that, didn’t want to talk about it with him or anyone else.

  “’Back when?’” Noah repeated. He seemed amused by this, too. “Are you even old enough to have a ‘back when’?”

  “I’m twenty-one.”

  “So no, then.” He pushed my cup of coffee over to me. “The study you’re talking about involved high levels of caffeine, the kind that no normal person would ever be able to ingest. And the same study also proved that coffee is the biggest source of antioxidants in the human diet, and as long as you don’t have any underlying health problems, you should be able to drink it without consequence.”

  I tried to remember if any of that was true, but I couldn’t. So I took a sip. “Ugh,” I said, forcing myself to swallow. “That’s disgusting. It’s so bitter. It needs sugar.” I glanced around for a sugar bowl, but I didn’t see one.

  “That is a premium French roast,” Noah said. “You can’t ruin it with sugar. And besides, sugar isn’t good for you.”

  “Says the man whose idea of breakfast is pastries.”

  “Sometimes you need to replenish your energy stores.” He grinned at me and I blushed. He leaned back against the counter, his cut abs flexing as he moved.

  I wondered again how someone who looked like him wanted to sleep with someone who looked like me. Not that I thought I was ugly – I knew I wasn’t. I was cute, maybe even pretty, in that girl next door kind of way. But Noah.. Noah could have been a model.

  Or a murderer, a voice in my head oh-so-helpfully reminded me.

  “Would you like to go out for a proper breakfast?” he asked me.

  “Right now?”

  “Yes, right now. There’s a twenty-four hour diner downstairs.”

  I looked at him. “You eat diner food?”

  “Yes, Charlotte. I eat diner food. I’m not a total snob.”

  “I don’t have any clothes here,” I said.

  “What’s wrong with what you’re wearing?”

  “Your t-shirt and a pair boxer shorts? I really don’t think that’s appropriate, even for a diner.”

  He looked at me and pretended to nod seriously, like he could see my point. He set his coffee down on the counter and walked over to where I was sitting. He stood behind me and brushed my hair to the side, then kissed the back of my neck softly. His hands slid down my shoulders, down my arms, stopping at the bottom of my t-shirt.

  “Honestly,” he said, as he ran his hands up under the fabric, over the sides of my body, “I’d have to agree with you. This outfit is entirely inappropriate.”

  I leaned into him while he kissed a searing line up my neck and his hands explored under my t-shirt. He caressed my stomach and then stopped just under my breasts, teasing me. My nipples hardened.

  And then his lips were on mine, soft at first, and then harder, more searching. Our tongues moved in rhythm, sending fire radiating from my center all through my body.

  I was sure he was going to fuck me again right there, throw me down on the counter or the floor, push my t-shirt up and have his way with me. But a second later he pulled back from our kiss.

  I opened my eyes and looked up at him. His eyes were dark and fiery, and I could feel the want radiating between us.

  “Where did you come from?” he whispered.

  “Upstate New York,” I whispered back.

  He laughed,
throwing his head back. “Is that right?”

  His hand moved up over my breast then, finally, taking the whole thing in his big hand and squeezing before moving to my nipple. His index finger drew a slow circle around my nipple, until it was tight and hard and I was panting. Then he squeezed so hard it hurt, and I cried out.

  This seemed to excite him, and a second later, his mouth was back on mine, only this time, the kiss was hard and deep right from the beginning, the intent behind it clear.

  He was going to fuck me again.

  And I wanted him to.

  But then his phone rang.

  He groaned and pulled it out of his pocket, checking the Caller ID.

  He frowned and took a step away from me.

  “Cutler,” he barked into the phone. “Yeah… on a fucking Saturday? No, Colin, I’m not going to be interrogated on a fucking Saturday… well, I never wanted to cooperate with them anyway… You and I both know that’s bullshit…” He shook his head. “Fine. Fine. No, I’ll be there.”

  Noah ended the call and stood there for a moment, looking down at his phone. His body language had changed – where just a moment ago he had been loose and sensual, now he seemed annoyed and tense.

  “Was it about your case?” I asked carefully, not wanting to upset him, but also wanting to know what was going on.

  “It was Worthington,” he said, his tone cold. “You’re going to have to leave now.”

  “Oh.” I nodded. “Oh. Um, okay.” I stood up. “Is there anything… I mean, should I – ”

  “No. You should go home, Charlotte. I’ll have my driver take you.” He began dialing another number. “Jared,” he barked into the phone. “Can you bring the car around? I need you to take my guest home, she’ll be going to… “ he trailed off and looked at me expectantly.

  “Sugar Hill,” I said, naming the part of the city where my apartment was located.

  “Sugar Hill,” Noah repeated into the phone.

  My face burned when I realized he didn’t know the most basic facts about me – where I was from, where I lived—and yet we’d done and said things that were shockingly intimate.