Only One Touch (Only One #4) Read Online Natasha Madison

Categories Genre: Billionaire, Romance, Sports Tags Authors: Series: Only One Series by Natasha Madison
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Total pages in book: 85
Estimated words: 78915 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 395(@200wpm)___ 316(@250wpm)___ 263(@300wpm)
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She looks over her shoulder. “Think you can give it to me so hard I feel you all day.” She baits me again as she bends over, spreading her legs for me. She’s already dripping wet, so I grab another condom. When I walk back to her, she has two fingers inside her while her thumb plays with her clit. I place my cock at her entrance, her fingers coming out as I slam into her so hard my balls slap her clit. I hold her hips into my hand so tight I know I’m going to leave a mark as I fuck her with everything that I have.

She puts her knees on the bed and arches her back. I grab her hair, pulling her back to me, and suck her neck. Her nipples are asking for me to hold onto them. I move my hips, fucking her softly, her pussy squeezing me tighter and tighter. I roll both her nipples in my hands and then pitch them. She moans out as she fucks me back, pushing against me. “Hold on,” I say and she places her hand onto the bed as I slam into her over and over again. The both of us panting and moaning. A thin sheen of sweat fills my chest and her back. “How is it.” I slam into her once and slowly pull out . “That I’m still in you.” I repeat the same time again. “Yet I can’t wait to have you again.”

“Fuck,” she says one word and I slam into her. “If I know,” she says while I pull out slowly. Every single time she gets close, I change the speed. “Nico.”

“I don’t only want you to feel me.” I slide into her so slow I feel every single inch of her hot pussy. “I want you to crave me.”

“Make me come,” she begs. I grab her ass cheeks, pulling her to me. “Please.” The last word comes out in a gasp as I slam back into her. Her eyes close, and this time, I let her come. One after another, she comes on my cock. When she goes over the third time, so do I.

“What are you still doing here?” Becca asks when she steps out of her walk-in closet. After I had her on the bed, I also had her in the shower. I got dressed and drove her home and instead of just going to the office, I went to get her coffee and breakfast. She was shocked when I rang the door fifteen minutes later, and I’m going to honest, she wasn’t the only one.

“I’m going to wait until you are ready to leave,” I say as she puts on one of her shoes. She went with pants today and a white sweater. It drives me crazy or maybe it just makes me want to puff out my chest when I think about all the marks she has on her.

“No skirt today?” I ask, and she side-eyes me. “What?”

“My knees have carpet burn,” she says, and I laugh. “You can go now.” She gets up, grabbing her purse and the coffee.

“Are you ready?” I ask and the both of us walk out of her place. Grabbing her hand as we walk down the hallway to her car, I kiss her and put her in her car, only walking to mine when I see her take off.

Twenty minutes later, I’m walking into my office. Lizzie is at her desk and she looks up at me. “Well, if it isn’t Casanova.” I laugh at her, walking into my office. “I came to see you on Sunday but …” I look over at her. “It sounded like a herd of cattle were mating, so I walked right back out.”

“You should have called,” I say with a smile.

“You should not be having sex in the kitchen. Things can get burned,” she says, and I look over at her.

“Are you speaking from experience?” I tease her.

“Unlike you and your girlfriend, I like to keep everything away from flames,” she says and I stop in my tracks with the title she just gave Becca. “Laurene wants you to call her back. It’s urgent.”

“How is it I go two years without talking to her, and all of a sudden, she wants to speak to me daily?” I ask Lizzie.

“Well, there was a development, and she needs your help,” Lizzie tells me. “So call her back.”

“I will,” I say, picking up my phone and calling her.

“Jesus,” she says as soon as she picks up the phone, “you would think I was trying to get in touch with the president.” She laughs.

“Sorry, I took the weekend off,” I say, looking down at the papers in front of me.

“You took the weekend off?” she shrieks. “You never take the weekend off. Last year, we were in Capri, and you worked from the boat.”


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