ASHER (The Beckett Boys, Book Three)

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ASHER (The Beckett Boys, Book Three) Page 17

by Olivia Chase


  “That’s impossible,” I said to Noah now, shoving my chin into the air. “I can’t be around you twenty-four seven.”

  “Why not?” He moved forward, reached out and traced a line down my chin, over my lips, down my collarbone.

  His eyes blazed, cool and icy blue. God, he was gorgeous. I’d never seen a man this gorgeous up close before. I’d had sex with him! He’d seen my half naked, he’d been inside me.

  I felt my face flame.

  Noah leaned forward, his face just inches from mine. “Are you thinking about what we did earlier, Charlotte?” he rasped. “Because I am.”

  I shook my head. “No,” I lied. “I’m not thinking about what we did earlier.”

  “You’re not?” he pressed. “You’re not thinking about what it felt like to kiss me, how your body felt against mine, how my hands felt on you?” He was moving closer now, his lips just inches from mine. “Because I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it.”

  The pad of his thumb ran over my bottom lip, and the sensation drove me almost insane with lust.

  “Come back to my apartment,” he said. “We can do whatever you want.”

  “Whatever I want?” I repeated.

  “Promise,” he said. “We’ll do whatever you want.”

  I knew it was a lie. Noah Cutler wasn’t the kind of man who gave up control to anyone. He made the rules. He knew it. I knew it. And we both knew I was going to go back to his apartment with him anyway.

  By the time we got there, I’d gotten control of myself. I’d had the chance to compose myself, and my heart had slowed just a tiny bit.

  We took the elevator up to Noah’s apartment, on the 39th floor of an ultra-exclusive building right in Midtown.

  “I’m not going to sleep with you again,” I said as the elevator began its ascent. “It would be extremely unprofessional of me.”

  “Charlotte,” Noah said again, sighing. I still loved the way he said my name. “Why do you keep alluding to the fact that we’re going to be sleeping together? I haven’t said any such thing.”

  “You said you couldn’t stop thinking about what we did earlier.”

  “You mean when I lifted your dress and fucked you in public?”

  “Yes.” I should have been offended that he was saying the words out loud, but all they did was turn me on.

  When we stepped off the elevator into the hallway, Noah stopped outside the door to his apartment. “Are you sure you want to do this?” he asked.

  “Do what?”

  “Come inside.”

  “Why wouldn’t I?”

  “Because I’m about to be arrested for murder.”

  “Did you do it?”

  “Wouldn’t you like to know.”

  I rolled my eyes. “If you’re saying that, it means you didn’t.”

  He unlocked the door and pushed it open, and we walked into his apartment. “Nice place,” I said, trying to sound nonchalant. Everything was gorgeous, done in shades of dark brown and light blue, all leather and cream and softness. Huge windows gave an expansive view of the city, and the lights outside twinkled in the darkness.

  “Thank you. Would you like a drink?”

  “No thanks.”

  He moved to the couch and sat down, stared at me.

  I sat down on the chair across from him, and asked myself again what the hell I was doing there. I’d been trying to justify it by telling myself it was because I wanted to make a good impression on Noah so that I could impress Worthington. But the truth was, right now, I didn’t give a crap about Worthington, or about law school, or anything. All I cared about was Noah.

  I wanted to kiss him again, to feel his hands on my body. It seemed a sin that I’d only had him for a little bit of time.

  “I really want to kiss you again,” he said matter-of-factly.

  “No kissing,” I said.

  “Why not?”

  “Because you might be a murderer.”

  “You really think I murdered someone?”

  “I’m not sure,” I said. I smoothed my skirt down. “I don’t know anything about the crime.”

  “Worthington didn’t tell you?”

  “No.” I shook my head.

  “Then you don’t know that I’m probably going to be arrested?”

  “I thought you were just a suspect.”

  “I’m a suspect because I’m the most likely one who did it.”

  “You don’t seem upset.”

  “I’m distracted.”

  “By what?”

  “The way your tits look in that shirt.”

  I blushed at the way he just said things that were so blatantly sexual like that. Cock. Tits. Pussy. The words were foreign to me. Of course I’d heard them before, but usually only in movies. I certainly didn’t hear them every day, and I certainly didn’t say them.

  “Will you stand up for me?” Noah asked. “I want to look at your body.”

  I stood up.

  “Turn around.”

  I turned around. I loved that he was looking at me, that he was being so blatant about the fact that he was looking at me.

  “God, you are sexy,” he breathed. “You’re getting my cock hard just looking at you.”

  “Noah,” I said. “This is not … I mean, we really shouldn’t be.”

  “Do you want to stop?”

  I shook my head.

  “Good. Turn around.”

  I turned around.

  “Now bend over.”

  I bent over just a tiny bit.

  “All the way,” Noah commanded. “All the way down and grab your ankles.” I did as I was told, feeling the cool air hit the bare skin of my ass. I was wearing a black thong, not the kind of thing I would usually wear, but when I wore a skirt, I was always afraid of panty lines.

  “You are so fucking sexy,” Noah rasped. “Come here. Come to me.”

  I got up and crossed the room to him, and he pulled me into his lap. His hand slid up my thigh, pushing my skirt with it.

  His other hand slid up to the back of my head, and pushed me toward him. “I’m going to fuck you again, Charlotte,” he said. I could feel his cock hard against me, and I moaned. “This time I’m going to fuck you for a long time. Do you think you can handle it?”

  “Yes,” I breathed.

  “Tell me you want me to fuck you.”

  “I want you to fuck me,” I said. “Please, I need you to fuck me.”

  “Say my name.” He dipped a finger into my mouth and I sucked on it softly, watching his eyes blaze as I did it.

  “Fuck me, Noah,” I whispered. “Please, I want you to fuck me.”

  He kissed me then, softly, which was a surprise after all the dirty things he’d been saying to me. His tongue was warm and perfect, his mouth exploring mine, probing hungrily.

  I pushed myself against the hardness of his dick, but just like he had earlier, he reached out and held my hips, stopping me. “No,” he said. “You don’t get to control this. I do. And we’re going to go nice and slow.”

  He began to unbutton my shirt, stopping as soon as my breasts were exposed. He ran a finger over my cleavage.

  “I’m going to explore every single inch of these hot, sexy curves of yours. Do you understand that, Charlotte?”

  “Yes,” I said. I was dripping now, so turned on that I was afraid I might come without him even touching me.

  He stood up, his hands grabbing at my ass. I wrapped my legs around him and he picked me up like it was nothing, like I was as light as a feather. I buried my face into his shoulder.

  I hesitated for a just a second, right before he brought me into his bedroom.

  If I did this, if I fucked him, there was no turning back.

  On the street earlier, yes, it was dirty and out of character, but I didn’t know him then. Now I knew exactly who he was – someone I knew in a professional capacity, someone who was going to be a client, if not of mine, then at least of mine tangentially.

  And he could have bee
n a murderer.

  I knew nothing about him, except that I’d let him fuck me in an alley, and I wanted him to fuck me again. I wanted him to bury his cock deep inside me, to explore every inch of my body the way he said he was going to.

  The thought of him not doing that was almost unbearable.

  He opened his bedroom door and laid me down on his huge bed. I sunk into the sheets, my breath coming in ragged gasps.

  “Are you ready for this, Charlotte?” he asked me, pushing my hair back from my face. He kissed me tenderly, his body on top of mine.

  “Yes,” I said. “Yes, I’m ready.”

  He stood up and unbuttoned the top of his shirt, pulled his tie off and used it to tie my wrists to the bed.

  His hands slid over my body, over my tits, my hips, my ass. His gaze never left mine.

  I was totally his to do with what he pleased, naked and bound, totally helpless.

  I held my breath and waited.

  Noah

  She was in over her head.

  I wanted her more than I’d wanted any woman in my life.

  But she wasn’t ready for me and the kind of demons that tormented my soul.

  I should have left her alone.

  But I just couldn’t help myself.

  END OF BOOK ONE

  What He Craves (What He Wants, Book Two)

  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.r />
  “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.

 

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