What He Fights (What He Wants, Book Ten) (An Alpha Billionaire Romance) (7 page)

He pushed into me in one smooth thrust,
then gathered my hair in his hands and laid his body over mine.

He cupped my chin and kissed me hard and
deep, his tongue tangling with mine, his hand wandering over my breasts.

“I am going to fuck you in the ass,” he
said.
 
“I want you to moan now,
Charlotte.
 
Do you understand
me?”
 
His eyes were on mine,
searching, his cock buried in my ass.
 
The weight of his body on top of mine, the smooth hardness of his chest
against my back, the gaze from his blue eyes was the most erotic thing that had
ever happened to me.

I trusted him.

I did.

I loved him.

The words were on my lips, I wanted to
say them, wanted to blurt them out.
 

I love you, Noah.

I saw a flicker of something pass over
his face, almost like he knew.

But then he was standing up again, and he
began fucking me.
 

He fucked me hard, he fucked me deep,
taking me in my most private place.
 
His hand was still wrapped around the belt, using it for leverage as he
fucked my ass and spanked me.

“Shit, you feel good, baby,” he groaned.
“Your tight ass feels so good.”

I moaned and pushed back against him, but
he twisted the belt around his hand and pulled on it.
 
“No,” he growled.
 
“I’m in charge of this.
 
Stay still.”

I stayed still as he pounded me harder
and harder.

“I’m going to cum inside of you, baby,”
he said.
 
“I want you to come with
me.”

I’d been on the edge this whole time, and
hearing him say those words was enough to push me over.

“Come all over me, baby,” he groaned, and
a second later I did.
 
My pussy
convulsed, and I felt him empty his load right into my ass, the warmth filling
my body, his seed seemingly going all the way to my stomach.
 

When he was done, he pulled out of me
slowly and removed the belt from my neck.

He wrapped his arms around me and pulled
me down onto the chair.
 
Our limbs
tangled together, and he kissed me softly on the forehead.

As he held me tight, realizations crashed
into me like waves, pounding against my soul.
 
I couldn’t stay away from him.
 
And he couldn’t stay away from me.

Doubting him wasn’t an option anymore.

I was going to have to trust him, was
going to have to give myself completely over to him, the way I’d just
done.
 
I was going to have to have
faith, even when he shut down and his walls came up.
 
I was going to have to decide that I believed him, no matter
what the evidence said.

And if I was going to do that, if I was
going to give myself to him and allow myself to try and imagine a life with
this man, I was going to have to do whatever I could to help prove his
innocence.

Noah held me tight, the smell of leather
and alcohol and sex permeating the room.

He ran his hand up and down my back, his
fingers tangling in my hair.

“Charlotte,” he whispered.
 

“Yes?”

He took my chin in his hand and turned my
face toward his, forcing me to look him in the eye.
 
“I love you,” he said, his voice heavy with emotion.

“I love you, too,” I said.
 
I had never meant anything more in my
life.

I loved him.

I was in love with him.

I would stand by him no matter what.

“Noah,” I said.

“Yes?”

“We need to figure out who killed Katie.”

“No, we don’t, Charlotte.”
 
There was disappointment in his voice,
and I could tell he was thinking this was Criminal Law 101 – the defense
didn’t have to prove someone else committed the crime.
 
They only had to leave reasonable doubt
that the defendant hadn’t done it.
 

But it was pure fantasy to think you
could rely on the prosecution not meeting their burden of proof.
 
Juries were tricky.
 
They could decide cases based on a
million different factors – the color of someone’s shirt, a prosecutor
who reminded them of a relative.
 
But if you had another suspect, if you’d solved the murder, then it
didn’t matter.

“We’re going to find out who did that to
Katie,” I said.

Noah pulled back and looked at me.
 
“Charlotte,” he said warningly.
 
“What are you talking about?”

I tangled my legs more with his, enjoying
the feel of his warm skin and taut muscles.
 
“We have to draw him out.”

“Who?”

“The killer,” I said, my heart racing.
“We have to draw him out.” It was a crazy idea, and yet it was going to
work.
 
I could feel it.

“No, Charlotte.”
 
Noah’s hand slid down my arm, sending
shivers up my spine.

“Yes.”
   
I propped myself up on my elbow.
 
“We’ll draw him out.”
 
I looked at Noah, thrusting my chin in
the air, daring him to contradict what I was about to say.
 
“It won’t be hard.
 
We’ll just have to use me as bait.”

End of Book Ten –
Click
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