Page 79 of Manhattan Secret

Not even two full thrusts for him to seat himself inside me and I’m already wrecked, it feels too good for my skin to keep all that pleasure in, but he soon takes it away again, leaving me moaning.

I arch back from the euphoria assaulting me.

Moaning to the beat of my erratic heart as our fighting kiss goes on and on.

His tongue dominating mine.

Giving me no choice but to open and kiss him back just as desperately.

I feel his hand possessively curling around the front of my throat.

His cock lines up again at my entrance. Shaking with lust, I’m blind to everything but that warmth and strength of his body pinning me in place.

“Stop thinking, Laney.” He groans and pushes in. He pushes in so hard that tears spring to my eyes and then the completeness overcomes me.

I pause, gasping for air. It’s perfect and too much all at once.

“Just concentrate on the feel of your man’s cock inside you.”

My man.

My man.

Thirsting for his touch, it seems like weeks and months of that thirst, until I’m so empty.

“Fuck,” he breathes against my ear, his hand slides between us, finding my core where we join, and he touches my hard clit.

“Christ, you feel amazing,” he moans into my neck, moving, moving, moving. Harder with each slam.

That’s it.

I give him whatever he wants.

My hips lift, neck arching, my mouth open for him.

It’s Lachie’s.

I’m his.

He uses his body to silently demand my surrender.

Without barely any cajoling, I give it.

Over coffee the next morning, I email my brother to let him know the money transferred to his account. I love Teddy, he loves me, we have a good sibling relationship, but he’s all about the get rich quick way of life and inevitably as they always do, he crashes and burns, and it’s left to me and our parents to pick up his mess.

I know Lachlan isn’t pleased with me giving Teddy money, so I don’t mention it. Responsibility doesn’t necessarily come with age. Teddy is twice Lachlan’s age and yet the pair couldn’t be further from each other. Lachlan is level-headed and smart, and I can hazard a guess, great in a crisis.

Teddy is the crisis.

Instead of mentioning him, I go through my other emails.

Some are about a seminar I’ve been interested in, being held this fall. I star that mail to pay more attention to the sign-up form later.

There’s a recipe card from my mom. She loves sending me online recipes, like she thinks that will get me more interested in being a sally homemaker, popping out kids and doing nothing all day but needlework and gardening.

I can’t tell you the difference between an azalea and a weed.

“Why don’t you come with me today?” Lachlan says while I open another email. He goes on to tell me whatever he’s telling me across the table, lazing in just his boxer shorts, hair wet from our shared shower, while he shovels toasted ham sandwiches into his mouth.

---