What He Plans (What He Wants, Book Twenty-Two) (An Alpha Billionaire Romance) Read online

  “Nothing is going to happen to me. All that is going to happen is that this is going to be over. And we are going to be happy.”

  He was talking about murder.

  Murder.

  The word ricocheted through my body, and I pulled away from him and sat up in bed.

  “No.”

  He reached for me, but I pulled out of his grasp.

  “No, we’re leaving.” My heart was pounding again, but it wasn’t like before, it wasn’t like the way it had been when I was scared.

  Now I felt strong, in control, adrenaline coursing through my veins.

  “Charlotte.” His voice was a warning.

  “No.” I shook my head. “No. You are not going to commit murder here, Noah. You’re talking crazy.” My mind was spinning, and I couldn’t believe how close he’d gotten me to believing that everything was going to be okay, how close he’d gotten me to thinking that maybe he had it all figured out.

  “It won’t be murder.” Noah sounded calm, matter-of-fact.

  “Oh, really? Then what would you call killing someone?”

  “Justified homicide by self-defense.” His licked his bottom lip and his jaw twitched. “And trust me, Charlotte, I will make it look justified.”

  I laughed manically, and then I was rushing toward the door. Every part of me wanted out of that room, out of that house, away from this whole thing.

  But Noah was stronger and faster.

  I was closer, but he got there first, stepping in front of the door, blocking my path.

  “Let me out,” I said. In my head, the words sounded strong and in control, but when they actually came out, they sounded soft and far away.

  “Charlotte.”

  “No,” I said. “No, please, Noah, this isn’t.. please…” I didn’t realize I was crying until I tasted the salt of my tears on my lips. “Noah.” His name came out almost a wail, and I could hear the desperation there, so raw and wounded.

  “Shhh,” he murmured. “Shhh, baby, it’s okay.”

  “No, it’s not okay.” He was pushing his body against mine, trying to embrace me, to pull me toward him. His hand was cradling the back of my head, but I railed against him, trying to push him away from me. Every part of me was screaming that I needed to get out of here, that I needed to get out of this house and get far, far away.

  “Shh, shah.” His voice was melodic, and his lips brushed against my cheeks, my tears disappearing as he kissed them away.

  His kiss made me weak, but I summoned my strength and pummeled his chest again.

  “This is what you love about me,” he said huskily, his mouth just centimeters from mine.

  “What?” I demanded. “What is?”

  He stared back at me boldly, his face devoid of emotion, his chest rising and falling with every breath.. “That I would kill for you.”

  “No.”

  “Yes.” He gripped the back of my head and held me in place, then lowered his mouth to my neck, where he sucked gently on the hollow of my throat. “You love that I would kill for you, that I would do anything to protect you.”

  “Noah,” I whispered. “Noah, please, don’t…” But my voice was breathy, and we both knew my words meant nothing. I could say ‘don’t’ all I wanted, but unless I used my safe word, he knew he had me.

  “Don’t what, baby?”

  I stayed quiet as the spot between my legs pulsed. My nipples beaded, sticking up like two little gumdrops beneath my tank top. The wave was overcoming me, the wave that was Noah Cutler, the wave that always overwhelmed any bit of resistance I might have been able to muster.

  He was too powerful, too intense. I loved him so much. The thought of something happened to him made me want to die, made me feel like I couldn’t breathe.

  I tried one more time to protest, but all that came out was a muffled moan.

  Noah’s mouth twitched.

  He turned me around and pushed my back up against the door, and his hand covered my mouth. “Shhh,” he said. “You don’t want someone to hear you, do you, baby? Do you want them to know you’re about to get fucked?”

  I moaned again and tried to shake my head, but his other hand was still on the back of my neck, holding me tight in place.

  “The truth is, baby, you love this.” His hand moved off my mouth and down to my shirt, his fingers dipping down into the top of my shirt and caressing my skin. Goose bumps bloomed over my arms and shivers raced up my spine. When Noah felt how hard my nipples were, a twisted look of satisfaction overcame his face.

  “You love that I would kill for you. And you love that you can’t stop me.” He kissed me then, hard, right on the mouth, and my body succumbed to his. I could feel myself physically melt into him, could feel my knees go weak.

  “Noah,” I groaned again. I turned my face away from his, trying to escape his lips, but he wouldn’t allow it.

  He grabbed my hair, pulling back so hard it hurt. “You love that I always get what I want,” he growled, and then he deepened his kiss, our tongues tangling, his hands wrapped in the strands of my hair.

  I struggled for a few more seconds, but then the waves of pleasure ricocheting through my body started to push out the fear and frustration. So that when he finally broke the kiss, it was me who wanted more, me who reached for him.

  His eyes glinted with desire and longing, and his need to control me flamed deep within his irises. His gaze never left mine as he cupped my breasts through my tank top, his thumbs rubbing over my beaded nipples.

  “You said you didn’t want this,” he murmured in satisfaction. “But your body can’t lie, can it?”

  “No, sir.” I groaned and arched my back into him, wanting him to touch me everywhere. I was on fire, my need for him so strong that I felt as if I was going to jump out of my skin. “Sir,” I pleaded, not sure what I was pleading for.

  “Yes, baby?” His hands moved over my breasts and he was allowing me to arch into him, but I knew it would be short-lived.

  “More.”

  “More what?”

  “More everything.”

  He pinched and twisted my nipple through the fabric of my shirt.

  Was I really going to do this, to let him – to beg him—to do the twisted things he wanted to do to me? He had just told me he was prepared to murder someone, for God’s sake. This whole thing was dysfunctional and wrong and dirty.

  I knew I should push him away, should insist we call the police and get the hell out of here.

  But another part of me, the stronger part, the part that had been taught and primed, wanted to beg.

  Noah’s mouth lowered to the side of my neck, and he kissed me softly as he slid the thin straps of my tank top down over my shoulders.

  His hands grabbed at the material of my tank top, pulling it down until my tits sprung free.

  “Fuck, look at you,” Noah breathed. “Jesus, Charlotte.”

  He took a step back and stared at me there, topless in front of him.

  My nipples pebbled even more until his gaze. I always had trouble when I was display like this for him, always felt so exposed and self-conscious. A blush deepened my cheeks. But now it was even worse. Now I needed him, needed him to be close to me, to feel his skin on me, to feel his hands on me.

  I needed to not think about what was happening.

  I needed to lose myself in him, the way I had so many times before.

  My hand reached out and went for his shirt, tried to start undoing the top buttons.

  He let me do two, the top of his expansive chest coming into view, his skin taut and tan.

  But then his hand reached out and grabbed mine, his fingers tightening around my wrist. “No.” He growled.

  “I’m sorry, sir.”

  “You know better.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  I dropped my hands to my sides and Noah reached out and slapped my right breast. It jiggled and bounced, now free and untethered. I cried out, shocked at the pain and the violence of the gesture.

&n
bsp; “Quiet.”

  I bit my lip as he slapped my other breast. It was my punishment for touching him without his permission, for trying to undress him.

  It was deserved.

  He was right.

  I did know better.

  He sucked my tit into his mouth, his other hand kneading my free breast before he broke away.

  He was pulling off his belt now, and I saw that look in his eye, the wild look he got when he was trying to fight some other emotion.

  “Get back against the door.”

  I backed up against the door, the rough wood pressing into my bare skin.

  He surveyed me, the belt dragging against the floor as he decided what to do with me.

  “Arch your back and push your tits out.”

  I did as I was told.

  “Suck your nipples.”

  “Noah –“

  “You heard me.” He whipped the belt against the floor, and I startled.

  Then slowly, I grabbed my tits and raised them to my mouth, sucking them.

  “Good girl, get your nipples nice and wet.” His breathing was becoming labored, and I could tell he licked seeing me like this, that it was getting him hard. It emboldened me, and I sucked and licked, making suckling noises as I moved back and forth between my tits.

  “Drop them,” he said, and my tits had just bounced back into place when he raised the belt.

  The first lick of leather on my skin took me by surprise. Not the act itself, but rather, the pain.

  My eyes welled with tears.

  “Does it hurt?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Do you deserve it?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Yes, sir, what?” he prompted. He was unbuttoning his shirt now, the rest of his chest and his chiseled torso coming into view, the smoothness of his stomach narrowing into the V of his hips before disappearing into the waistband of his jeans. A soft line of hair started at his navel and I let my eyes follow it down, down, down, resisting the urge I had to reach out and touch it, to follow it down to his hard cock.

  “Yes, sir, what?’ he repeated. He tossed his shirt onto the bed, his triceps flexing as the belt lashed against my breasts again.

  “Yes, sir, I deserve it.”

  “Why do you deserve it?”

  “Because I’m a bad girl,” I whispered.

  “That’s right, baby,” he said, and then he was pressing himself back up against me. His hands found my tank top, which had slipped down and was now bunched around my waist. He tugged it down until it pooled around my feet, and his fingertips traveled up my back. My nipples brushed against his chest, and his eyes searched mine. His gaze traveled down to my breasts, landing on red marks that he’d left there with his belt.

  The love in his eyes deepened as he traced them with his index finger.

  “Look what I did to you,” he murmured huskily.

  “Yes, sir.”

  “I made you mine.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  He kissed me again, deep and slow and intense, my chin moving against the stubble on his, our tongues tangling. His mouth was hot and good. He kissed me until I was dizzy, tonguing me until I could barely breath.

  When he finally pulled back, his chest was heaving with excitement from the way he’d been kissing me and the marks he’d left on me. Fear slid up my spine as I wondered what he was going to do next.

  His flat palm slid down over my stomach, his other hand holding my hip so I couldn’t move. He reached down into my shorts and cupped my pussy. My body responded of its own accord, trying to grind into his hand, but Noah held me tight.

  “Don’t move.” His hand worked my shorts down over my hips, leaving me in just the tiny strip of fabric that Noah considered a thong, but was really move of a G-string, one that left my ass cheeks completely exposed.

  He picked me up and threw me down on the bed.

  “Turn over, Charlotte,” he commanded.

  I flipped onto my stomach.

  “Ass in the air.”

  I shoved my ass into the air.

  “Grip the bedspread. Grip it hard.”

  I gripped it.

  “Spread your legs. “

  I spread my legs and he grabbed the sides of my panties and pulled them off, leaving me naked. I knew he was staring down at me, knew he was looking at my exposed pussy, and my ass high in the air for him.

  I heard his sharp intake of breath, and then, sure enough, he reached down and spread me even wider, forking my pussy lips with his fingers. “So fucking sweet,” he said, his voice heavy with desire. “Your pussy’s so wet even though I just got you off.”

  I moaned as his finger teased my entrance, probing and pushing, not going inside of me, just teasing me. “You felt so tight when you came on my fingers.” He slid a finger inside of me, all the way up to the knuckle, and I groaned.

  “How many fingers are inside of you, Charlotte?”

  “One,” I managed.

  His finger curled around inside of me, brushing against the inside of my vagina, against my G-spot. At the same time, his other hand whipped the belt down onto my ass, the lash hard and swift.

  The hot pain raced through my skin like a brush fire and my knuckles tightened around the bedspread.

  Noah pushed another finger into my pussy.

  “How many fingers?” he demanded. The belt was brushing lazily against my back now, the metal buckle cool against my bare skin.

  “Two, sir.”

  This time when his fingers curled up inside of me, two lashes rained down on my ass.

  “Your pussy is full, but you want another one, don’t you, dirty girl?”

  “Yes,” I managed.

  “Beg.”

  “Please,” I said, “Please, sir.”

  “Please, what?” he prompted. The leather belt slipped and slid over my back, letting me know it was there, adding to the anticipation of not knowing when he would whip me with it.

  My eyes filled with tears, the humiliation of what he was doing to me making me so very ashamed. And yet the slickness between my legs betrayed me. He was right – my body couldn’t lie.

  “Please put another finger in my pussy,” I whispered.

  He pushed it inside of me, filling me, stretching me, the tightness and the pressure so overwhelming, so unbearable and yet so good that I almost came right then, right on his hand.

  His fingers curved up inside of me and the belt reined three more lashes down on the aching skin of my bare ass.

  I moaned and whimpered.

  I wanted his fingers out of me, and yet at the same time, I wanted them inside of me more, wanted to come.

  I pushed back on him, grinding myself into him.

  “Oh, you like that, do you?” he said, sounding amused.

  “Yes.”

  His thumb toyed with the opening to my ass, and I clenched. “Please, Noah, don’t…”

  “Don’t what?”

  “I don’t think… I’m too full, please.”

  “Your pussy just needs to be stretched,” he said. “Fuck, you should see yourself, laid out like this. You look so fucking sexy.”

  The belt lashed against my ass again. I wasn’t sure if this blow was harder, or if my ass was just sore, but it hurt

  “Make your ass bounce, baby,” Noah commanded.

  I pushed my ass back and made it jiggle.

  “Yes, baby, that’s it, bounce that ass.”

  I shook it and jiggled it, my pussy slick with the knowledge that he was watching.

  “God, I’m rock hard and I’ve barely even touched you.”

  His thumb was still pressed against my ass, three of his other fingers still inside my pussy.

  I was so stretched, and my ass burned from where he’d belted me.

  I whimpered.

  “Turn over,” Noah commanded. “I want to see those big tits bounce while I fuck you.”

  I scrambled over onto my back.

  Noah grabbed my right breast with one h
and, kneading it, playing with the nipple while he gazed down at me.

  His eyes traveled my body as he began to unbutton his pants, pulling his jeans and boxers off.

  A moan escaped my lips at the sight of him naked, the V of his hips, the rippling muscles of his chiseled abs, the mushroom head of his hard, thick cock.

  “Put your legs together,” he demanded. “Make your pussy lips stick out.”

  I smashed my legs together and he grabbed his cock, giving it a long pull. He was so sexy, standing in front of me, his cock in his hand, his body ripped and beautiful.

  He pressed his cock into me, rubbing in between my pussy lips.

  “Look at that. Look at the way my cock splits your pussy.”

  I watched, fascinated, as his cock became slick with my juices, his precum mixing with my arousal. The head of his dick pushed against my clit, and it was torturous, the way he’d taken away his fingers, leaving me empty.

  I moaned, loud, because it felt so good, and I tried to wiggle my butt down and spread my legs so that the tip of his dick slipped into me just the tiniest bit.

  “Legs closed,” he said, pulling his cock away as the belt rained down on my tits.

  I gasped at how much it hurt, and my eyes filled with tears again. My cheeks were hot from the exertion of what he was doing to me, from the arousal, from the humiliation.

  I pushed my legs closed and leaned back, even though my pussy was throbbing.

  Noah’s fingers slid down and forked my pussy lips open slightly, allowing me to feel more of his thick shaft.

  “Look at that,” he commanded.

  I looked, but the sight of him moving on top of me, his eyes on mine as his rock hard cock split my pussy was too much. He was just so fucking gorgeous, his five o’clock shadow on his strong jaw, the strong muscles in his arms flexing as he worked me over. My need for him to put his strong arms around me, for me to feel the ridges of his abs against me, to feel that hard dick pressed into me was insatiable.

  I couldn’t help it – I began wiggling again, letting the tip of his dick push just a tiny bit into my folds.

  But Noah grabbed the outside of my thighs, pushed them together, his thumbs pressing into my flesh so hard I knew I would have a bruise.

  The thought almost made me come.

  “Tell me I own you,” he growled.