The Banker Read Online Penelope Sky (Banker #1)

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Billionaire, Dark, Erotic, Romance, Suspense Tags Authors: Series: Banker Series by Penelope Sky
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Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 80511 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 403(@200wpm)___ 322(@250wpm)___ 268(@300wpm)
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And I was the one risking my neck to save him.

If I thought about it too deeply, nothing made sense.

Cato took a deep breath when he woke up. It was a masculine sigh, a low moan that came from the back of his throat. His hand squeezed my hip, and before he even opened his eyes, he moved on top of me and positioned his hips between my thighs.

“Uh, good morning?”

He opened his lids and revealed his sleepy eyes, a look that was even sexier than when he was wide awake. He tilted his hips and pressed the head of his crown right between my pussy lips. “Morning.” He shoved himself hard inside me, sliding through the come that still remained from last night.

My nails dug into his arms, and I moaned when I felt his violent intrusion. I’d never fucked a dick like his before. He wasn’t just long, but thick, and those perfect dimensions hit my desire in the right spots. It was the kind of cock made for fucking, perfect in its shape and hardness. “God…” My toes curled, and I moaned against his lips.

He buried his face in my neck and fucked me in the laziest way possible, his warm, heavy body pressing me into the sheets. His hips bucked, and he ground his body right against my clit. He didn’t even need to do anything to get me off because he was simply so well-endowed.

Getting fucked by a sexy man first thing in the morning was one of life’s gifts. It was a treat I’d never truly enjoyed until now. There had been some good lovers in my life, but none like Cato. And skipping the condom made the sensations even more heightened, made every thrust ten times more pleasurable. This was a man so beautiful it was painful, and I actually felt like the luckiest woman in the world to be underneath him at that moment.

I never had to wonder if he would make me come. I never had to wonder if I should touch myself to get to the finish line. Anytime he was inside me, I knew he was man enough to finish me off before he released.

That made me worship him.

My ankles dug into his ass as I came, my nails clawing at his back as I rode the high he created in between my legs. “Thank you…” The words slipped out of my mouth on their own, a plea to this god in the sack. I didn’t realize how much I needed to be pleased until Cato came to my rescue. He fucked me the way I needed to be fucked, fucked the way every man should.

He grunted as he finished, dumping another mound of come deep inside me. He filled me so much last night there was no room left, but that didn’t stop him from trying to give me more. He moaned again as he finished, his come seeping out of my pussy and dripping between my cheeks. “Fuck. This. Pussy.” He pulled his big dick out of me then left me there. He walked into the bathroom and got in the shower.

I didn’t care about the cold way he used me then carried on with his day.

I loved it, actually.

I fell asleep again then woke up when I heard his voice in the next room.

“I’m in Milan.”

I sat up then ran my fingers through my hair. I squinted to make out the time on the nightstand. It was almost one in the afternoon.

Jesus, I hadn’t slept in that late in… I couldn’t remember the last time.

“Siena and I looked at a painting. I decided to buy it.” A coffee mug tapped against the counter, like he was sipping it then setting it down again. “I’ll be back later today.” After a long pause, he turned cold. “I know, Bates. You’ve made your opinion perfectly clear.”

I opened one of his drawers and found a pile of fresh t-shirts. I grabbed the gray one on top and pulled it over my body. It was baggy around the arms and extended past my knees. It fit like a blanket more than a piece of clothing. I walked into the other room and found Cato sitting at the dining table, looking out the window. A mug of coffee sat in front of him, the steam drifting toward the ceiling, his phone beside it. He was in a new t-shirt and jeans, his dark hair styled after his shower. He didn’t turn around to look at me. “Coffee?”

“Please.”

He walked into the kitchen and poured me a cup.

I took a seat in the chair across from his. The sunlight came through the large window and filled the chair with summer heat. It would be a warm and humid day, but summer in Italy was always beautiful. Some people couldn’t stand it. But I loved it. It was the winter months I despised. The heating system in my house wasn’t great, and the fireplace wasn’t powerful enough to chase away the cold.


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