Page 80 of The Manny

“Oh, yeah.” He pounded into me with such powerful thrusts, it moved me up the bed further. “Some guy tried to get me to take him in the bathroom. Didn’t want him.”

“You wanted me,” I whispered.

“Yeah,” he growled.

“You wantedthis.”

“Glad I came home.” He smirked, his thrusts increasing in speed and intensity. “Glad you were awake.”

“Even if I wasn’t. Feel free to wake me anytime.”

His laugh was gruff. Breathy.

My body was on fire, my climax buzzing through my balls, and creeping up my dick. I couldn’t seem to get enough of him. Sleeping with him might be reckless, but I didn’t have the self-control to say no.

“Oh, fuck, I’m gonna come.” He stiffened and his dick throbbed inside me.

I opened my mouth in a silent cry as my orgasm hit me at the same time, shattering me into a million pieces. My body shook and shuddered, spilling cum over my moving hand.

Even sheathed, I felt his release; as a hot flush of semen filled the latex barrier. His teeth gnashed and he cried out hoarsely, pumping into me until every drop was deposited inside the condom. Then he kissed me; long, hungry kisses that felt possessive and greedy.

When we finally fell silent, he stayed inside of me. It was intimate. Intoxicating. Being under him with his dick still full and heavy inside my body, and our heaving stomachs sticky with sweat and semen. I could have stayed like that forever, but after a bit, he pulled out slowly and fell beside me on the bed.

I glanced over at him, noticing his eyes were closed. “You stayed out late. Must have been having a good time tonight.”

He laughed sheepishly. “I had way more fun just now.”

I smiled and grabbed tissues from the nightstand. I wiped my stomach clean while he disposed of the condom. “I was glad to hear you worked things out with Brody and the guys.”

“I didn’t detect any weirdness tonight with them, so I think all is good again.”

“Good. I know it was bothering you.”

He sighed. “Yeah, it was.”

“I can see why. Nobody likes having people think they’re a jerk.”

“Yeah. I think it was more than that though.”

“Do you?” I set the tissues on the nightstand, and laid down again, facing him. “Why do you think the thing with Brody got to you?”

He surprised me by rolling over so that he was also facing me. His energy was more relaxed than usual, his expression less-guarded. He hesitated. “The truth?”

“Yes.”

He sighed. “Because when I act like an asshole, it makes me feel like I’m taking after my old man. That’s something I swore I’d never do.”

I didn’t want to overreact, but I was excited he was being so open. I also knew if I showed him how much that meant to me, he’d most likely clam up immediately. I casually said, “You can be who you want to be. You aren’t destined to be like anyone else.”

“But his horrible blood runs through my veins too.”

I chuffed. “Blood doesn’t make the man. If I got a blood transfusion from Charles Manson, I’m not going to suddenly be a psychopath.”

“Okay, true.” He frowned. “But my dad also raised me. He molded me.”

“Did you look up to him? Did you aspire to be like him?”

“Fuck no,” he hissed. “I spent most of my time hiding from him.”

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