This is what He want

Noah 1.2

As she walked, her t**s bounced slightly under the thin fabric of her dress. I towered over her, and from my vantage point, I could see just slightly down the front of her dress. That, along with her innocence, and the mark I could still see on her wrist, the X I’d written, made me the slight grip I’d been keeping on my control.

I grabbed her roughly, pulling her into a space between the buildings.

“What are you doing?” she asked as I pushed up against her. Her body felt just as I’d imagined. Soft and full and lush, ready for f*****g. She tried to push me away, but it only served to make my c**k harder. I wanted her to struggle – it would make it that much better when she finally succumbed.

She resisted me more, and I pushed into her again, hard. I could feel it building, my need for her.

Stop. You’ll hurt her if you keep going, you’ll push her too far.

I took a few steps back, suddenly afraid of what I would do to her, the amount of pain I could inflict on her tight little body if I didn’t get control of myself.

“If you want to go, go,” I said. But I knew she wasn’t going anywhere, or I wouldn’t have said it. Her breath was coming in short gasps, and I could see the outline of her hard n*****s popping like two buttons through her dress. If she tried to run, I would catch her.

I took a moment to steady myself. I hadn’t had this kind of reaction to a woman in… well, how long it had been, if ever, made the red lights of emergency flash in my mind.

I tried to calm myself, knowing that if I rushed her too soon, I would be way too rough. And yet I wanted to annihilate her p***y, to bruise her, whip her, teach her to be mine. And yet at the same time, I felt this overwhelming urge to protect her, mostly from myself.

Our gazes were locked, and I could tell she knew she should run.

I moved back toward her, not able to take it anymore.

I grabbed her shoulders and ran my hands down her arms, over the X I’d drawn there earlier. She was branded, and seeing it made the tenuous grip I had on my self-control loosen even more.

“Right now,” I told her. “You are mine.”

I brought my lips to hers. The kiss was like nothing I’d ever experienced before. Her lips were soft, her mouth hesitant as I pushed my tongue inside. She let me take immediate control, setting the pace, controlling the pressure of our tongues against each other. I French kissed her, my tongue probing her mouth, exploring, tasting.

Her body relaxed, the fight zapping out of her as her hard n*****s brushed against my chest.

I needed to see those big t**s of hers, needed to have them out and unfettered, needed to know what her n*****s looked like.

I grabbed her right hand, and I felt her tense up, so I pushed it up over her head, pinning her to the wall of the building. I repeated the process with her left hand.

She was no match for my strength, and I was able to hold her wrists easily with just one hand, pushing hard, hoping she would have scratches on the back of her knuckles from the rough brick.

With my free hand, I yanked hard on her dress, pulling it down over her t**s. Her curves were encased in a lacy little bra, the cups molded to her skin. I groped her through the material, loving the way she felt under me, how innocent and helpless.

I traced my fingertip over her n****e, and she moaned.

“Shhhh,” I commanded, pressing my finger to her lips. “Quiet.”

She bit her bottom lip and kept quiet, showing me could take an order. I wondered what else I could force her to do, how far she would let me take things. The urge to pull my belt off and lash her bare ass with it pulsed through me. My hands tightened on her wrists, and I was this close to pushing her to knees and lashing her, hard, but I stopped myself.

Don’t hurt her.

The need to protect her wrestled with my need to dominate her.

My c**k was rock hard, and I needed the release, needed to come in her, on her, needed to f**k her before I did something I would regret.

I turned her around so that she was facing the building, then pushed her up against the wall until her cheek hit the coarse brick.

Her hands were still above her head, and I reached up and grabbed the candy bracelet around her wrist. I pulled the elastic band into a figure eight, and slipped the loop around her other wrist, effectively tying her hands together.

I tugged tightly on the elastic, using it to hold her in place.

My other hand reached down and pushed up her dress. I pulled her panties to the side. Her tight little p***y was already wet, just as I’d imagined it to be, and the sheer fabric of her panties clung to her p***y lips.

“My God,” she gasped as the night air hit her bare p***y.

My c**k twitched at her disobedience – I’d told her to be quiet -- and I resisted the urge to spank her hard on the ass, to tug her hair, or to push her to the ground and shove my c**k down her throat.

I slid a finger into her tight p***y, and she clenched around me. “You’re wet for me. You’ve been wet for me since I drew that X on you, haven’t you?” I pulled the makeshift rope around her wrists tighter. “Weren’t you?”

“Yes,” she managed.

“Yes, what?”

“Yes, I was wet for you since you drew on me at the bar.”

Her back was arched, and I looked down at her hot little ass. It was curvy and perfect, and I couldn’t take it another second. I needed to f**k her before I exploded.

“I’m going to f**k you now,” I breathed into her ear. And then I pushed into her, past the resistance of her snug p***y, my rock hard c**k filling her in one full stroke. She tried to push back, to take me inside of her, and I but he grabbed the bracelet and pulled her arms back, shoving my body up against hers, letting her know that I was in charge.

I f****d her hard, in and out, faster and faster, making her take every inch of me.

The whole time I was looking at her ass, watching it bounce, watching my c**k as it thrust in and out. She was so wet, and soon my shaft was covered in her juices. I knew she was turned on because of how rough I was being with her. And yet I was so restrained, knowing she wouldn’t be able to take what I really wanted to do to her.

Her p***y began to clench harder on my d**k.

“Come for me,” I commanded, and no sooner were the words out of my mouth then she did come for me, her p***y tightening around my c**k.

I gave her three more pumps until I felt myself explode inside of her, and I held her tight to me as I got off inside of her, making her take every shot of my c*m, filling her with it.

I held her up against the wall for another moment before releasing her. There were marks on her wrists where the elastic of the bracelet had cut into her delicate skin. The sight of it made the blood rush back to my d**k. And yet pulsing underneath that need was something even more disturbing, at least to me – the idea that I wanted to wrap my arms around her, take her back to my apartment, and tuck her into my bed.

I brushed her my hair to the side and kissed her softly on the back of the neck.

“What’s your name?” I asked her, unable to stop myself. I knew her name, but I wanted to hear her say it, as if it made her more real somehow, as if it made her more mine.

“Charlotte. Charlotte Holloway.”

“Charlotte,” I repeated the word in wonder.

Then I summoned my strength and left her.



I could still feel her on me, could still feel her p***y snug around my d**k.