What He Craves

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 came.
 
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.