Meant for Stone (Meant For #1) Read Online Natasha Madison

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary, Insta-Love, Sports Tags Authors: Series: Meant For Series by Natasha Madison
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Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 86367 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 432(@200wpm)___ 345(@250wpm)___ 288(@300wpm)
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“You ready?” he asks me when he knows my orgasm is at the end. My throat is dry, so all I can do is nod. He pulls his cock out of me, and I sit up, taking him in the back of my throat. My hand grips his shaft, my eyes closing to take him as deep as I can get him. “You have one more in you?” I don’t even know what he’s asking, but then his fingers enter me. “You are so wet, gorgeous.” I look up at him, his fingers working the same speed as my hand on his cock. “Look at you taking my cock.” He thrusts his hips to get more of it in my mouth. “Take my cock any way I want you to take my cock,” he urges, and I try to focus on his cock in my mouth, but his fingers and his words are distracting, and I can feel another one coming. It’s like my body has been saving it all for this moment. “Like a good girl.” The words come out in a hiss because his cum hits the back of my throat at the same time as I come on his hand. I swallow every single drop he has for me, his fingers slowing down in me at the same time as my hand slows around the base of his cock.

I open my eyes to watch him, wondering who will let go first. “Fuck, you’re beautiful,” he declares, pulling his fingers out of me and sliding them into his mouth. I let go of his cock, only for him to grab my face and slide his tongue into my mouth.

“Fuck,” he says, letting go of me, “I’ve just had the best orgasm of my life, and my cock wants you again.” I look down at his cock and see it hasn’t even gone down.

“You act like that’s a bad thing,” I joke with him, getting on my knees and taking off my bra and tossing it to the side. “We have twelve hours.” I cup his balls. “When I leave here, I want to feel you still inside me.” I kiss his neck, his hands coming up to pinch my nipples and then roll them. “Feel up to the challenge, big boy?”

“The question is”—his fingers are still playing with my nipples—“when you beg me to stop, will I stop?”

“You talk a big game.” I kiss under his chin. “The question is, can your cock deliver?”

“Oh, gorgeous.” He wraps his arm around my waist, pulling me up. “I’m going to love making you eat your words.” He hoists me from the bed, and I yelp. “Time for a shower.”

He walks toward the bathroom, placing me down on the counter before walking over to the white shower curtain and pulling it back to start the water. He pulls the curtain closed before coming back to stand between my legs. His mouth comes down to kiss me, and he places his hands beside my hips. One of my hands goes to his hip, but the minute I touch him, I want more, so I grip his cock, jerking it. His hands go from beside my hips to my knees, pulling them up so my feet are on the counter. I rub him up and down my slit once before he slides into me, and there on the counter, with the hot water steam filling up the room, he makes me come two more times before we actually get into the shower.

I don’t know what time we fall asleep, the both of us trying to get as much of each other as we can. I put my head down on his chest, listening to his heart beating before I drift off. My alarm rings in what feels like two seconds after I’ve fallen asleep. He reaches over me to slap the phone and then mumbles, but not before his knees kick my leg to the side, and he moves his hip to slide into me. “One more time,” he murmurs into my neck, and I don’t answer him. I just close my arms and legs around him, savoring every touch. I make a mental note of how he feels close to me. How his hair feels in my hands. How he fits into me like he was made for me.

We both groan before he rolls over to his side, taking me with him. “I need coffee,” I say, and he reaches for the phone on the bedside table. One eye opens to watch him fumble with the phone. He has to release me to dial the number to room service. “Hey, can I get a pot of coffee, some French toast, scrambled eggs, bacon, sausage, and fresh fruit?” He looks up at me. “Thank you,” he says, hanging up the phone. “Twenty minutes.” He lies back down in bed and pulls me to him.


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