Meant for Her (Meant For #2) Read Online Natasha Madison

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Forbidden, Sports Tags Authors: Series: Meant For Series by Natasha Madison
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Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 95393 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 477(@200wpm)___ 382(@250wpm)___ 318(@300wpm)
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“You’re wrong,” he corrects as he pumps his cock into me. “It’s my pussy.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

christopher

“The water is getting cold.” We’re sitting in the outdoor bathtub and have been for the past couple of hours. I’m leaning back against the tub with Dakota in my arms in front of me, her back to my chest, her legs tangled with mine. The waves crashing in the distance fill the air as the sun slowly moves toward sunset.

“Do you want to add more hot water?” I ask softly as I trail kisses up her shoulder to her neck. Her hair is tied up on top of her head.

“Do you want to get out?” I kiss her naked shoulder, not moving my arms from around her. “We are all shriveled up.” She holds up her hand.

“There is one thing that isn’t shriveled.” I kiss behind her ear.

“Oh, trust me, I know.” She turns her head toward mine. “I’ve felt it digging in my back for the past five minutes.”

“Well, if you sat on it, then it would not be in your back.” I smirk.

“I’ve sat on it twice already since we’ve been in this tub.” I lean forward to kiss her smiling face. “Once facing you, the other not facing you.”

“Hmm,” I moan as I slide my tongue into her mouth. “I might need you to refresh my memory.”

She laughs now, her laughter filling the balcony. “You are funny.” She kisses my lips, then buries her face in my neck.

For the past two days, we’ve been here and have never left the room. We’ve either been having sex, sleeping, or eating. All done either naked or with the robes that came with the room.

“Are you hungry?” I ask as I slide my finger with hers in the water, picking it up and kissing her fingertips that are really shriveled. “What do you want for dinner?”

“Are you asking me to suck your dick?” she asks, and now both our chests shake while we laugh.

“No,” I finally say. “When I want you to suck my dick, I’ll just say suck my dick.”

“Glad we got that talk out of the way.” She turns in the tub to face me, moving farther away.

I take her foot in my hand, and I can see she has something on her mind. “What’s going on?” I ask.

“I know that we are, you know—” she says and then looks down. I stop moving my fingers until she looks back up at me. I just stare at her, at her beauty, at everything she is. “You know we are having⁠—”

“Sex,” I fill in the blanks.

“Yeah, we are doing that. But I was wondering if, you know, we are just”—she points a finger at her chest, then me—“are we just having sex with each other?”

I sit up. “Are you saying you want to have sex with other people?” My heart pounds.

“No.” She shakes her head. “I’m asking if we are exclusive.”

“What kind of question is that?” I almost snap.

“Well, I don’t know, we never defined this.”

“Didn’t we?” I tilt my head to the side. “I think I remember saying I’m yours, and you’re mine.”

“Was I there for this conversation?” She smiles, and I can see she’s happy with the direction of this discussion because her eyes light up. I also know I’m going to marry her. I knew before I was in for the long haul. Now with her sitting in front of me, her face pink from us fucking, her body with my marks on it, the way I feel when I wake up with her in my arms. I know no one else in the world is supposed to be by my side for the rest of my life.

“I think you were there. Baby, whatever you want is what we do.” Her eyes lighten even more. “I don’t care what you call me. I just know that I’m yours and you’re mine. Also, FYI, there is no fucking open relationship,” I snap, and she giggles. “I don’t know how much clearer I need to be.”

“I think you are pretty clear.” She’s about to come to me when we hear a phone ring from inside the house.

I can see the worry hit her face right away. “That’s my mom.” Jumping out of the tub, she grabs the towel near us and runs into the house. I get out and grab the other towel, following her inside.

“How high is her fever?” she asks as she sits on the bed, her eyes coming to me. “That’s really high,” she states, grabbing the robe and then slipping it on before she presses the FaceTime video. She sits with the phone in her hand. “Hi, baby.” She smiles. “How are you feeling?”

“I’m sick,” Luna says, and then she coughs, “and my throat hurts.”

“Oh, baby, I’m going to try to call the doctor to see if he can see you today, but if anything, Grams is going to take you to the doctor tomorrow.”


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