What He Needs (What He Wants, Book Four) (An Alpha Billionaire Romance) by Hannah Ford

What
He Needs (What He Wants, Book Four)
    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

 
    I couldn’t stop thinking about her.   Her eyes.   Her skin.   The
way her body felt against mine.   It
was disconcerting, how I couldn’t get her out of my head.  
    My morning run was the time I used to
quiet my mind, to block out all the noise of the city and the world and my own
obsessive thoughts.  
    But she kept creeping in.
    And I couldn’t stop it.
    I ran faster, trying to escape her, but
it was no use.   My thoughts drifted
to last night, how those men were looking at her in the club as I led her to
the basement.   They’d been salivating
over her breasts and that gorgeous round ass of hers, and she’d had no
idea.   I’d wanted to fuck her right
there, right in front of them, to show them that she was mine.   But I was too protective of her for
that.   I didn’t even like that they
got to see her in her sexy little dress.   The thought of them looking at her body made me boil
with jealousy.
    She was so curvy that no matter what she
was wearing, she was going to become   the fantasy of every man   she crossed paths with.   I was going to have to set some rules
about how she could dress in public.   I couldn’t stop men from staring at her completely, but I could
certainly make it more difficult.
    My dick twitched as I remembered how she
was afraid she wasn’t enough for me.   The fact that she was worried about this already, after just one session
at the club, made my cock hard.   I
couldn’t wait to explore her body, to push her, to tie her, to spank her, to
fuck her and take her in every way she could even dream possible.
    I picked up my pace, trying to channel my
sexual energy into something physical, but it didn’t even take the edge off.
    When I got back to my apartment, she was
lying in my bed, her hair spread in a halo on the pillow.   Her face was peaceful, the covers in a
tangle around her body.   She’d
slept naked, and it took every ounce of self-control I had not to pull the
covers off her, push her legs up and bury my face in her tight little
cunt.   Her pussy was soft and
smooth and tasted like honey.
    She’d been asking questions last night,
about why I needed the things I needed.   I wanted to let her in, wanted to give her the answers she so
desperately wanted.
    I was beginning to realize that I would
do anything to keep her close to me, to make sure I could have her near me
whenever I wanted.   And if that
involved letting her in, I would have to find a way to do that.
    My heart pulsed faster in my chest, as
much at the sight of her long shapely legs and pouty little lips as the fact
that I might have to let my walls down.
    The thought itself was a threat,
terrifying in its intensity.
    If I let her in, what would happen? I
asked myself.
    She might not understand.
    She might leave.
    She might get scared.
    She might see you for what you really
are.
    A monster.
    Someone who shouldn’t be loved.
    She’ll leave you.
    Just like you deserve.

 
    Charlotte

 
    Strangulation was a horrible way to
die.   The victim was aware of
everything that was happening until their very last breath.   There was usually a struggle as they clawed
and fought and raged against their attacker until finally they were pulled down
into the abyss of unconsciousness.  
    I’d read about it back when I wanted to
be a doctor, when I would spend hours in the public library, forcing myself to
read study after study about the ways people could die.   I learned about how people would stop
eating as they got closer to death, how they would become more and more tired,
about how you should never say something around a dying person that you didn’t
want them to hear, since hearing was the last of the senses to go.   I forced myself to learn all