What He Craves by Hannah Ford Page B

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