Page 42 of Maneater

“Like that?” he asks, his voice rough with desire.

“Yes,” I manage, my fingers digging into his shoulders.

He presses his palm flat against me, applying just enough pressure to make my vision blur. My hips move involuntarily, seeking more friction, more contact.

“Let’s get these off,” Rex murmurs, his fingers working at the button of my jeans.

I help him, lifting my hips as he slides them down my legs. Rex teases with his fingers along the inside of my thigh. The touch holds a promise that sends shivers racing up my spine. My breath catches when his hand moves higher, and he wraps his fingers around my cock.

“Rex,” I squeak, my back arching off the bed.

He strokes me slowly, his grip firm but not tight. Each movement sends waves of pleasure through my body, an intensity I’ve never experienced with anyone else. My fsts curl in the sheets as I struggle to maintain control.

“Let go,” he murmurs, his breath hot against my ear. “Allow your body to guide you,”

I couldn’t form words, couldn’t think beyond the sensation of his hand moving with practiced precision. My body responded instinctively, hips rising to meet each stroke. The world narrowed to just us, just this moment, just his touch.

“Can I?” I manage, my fingers fumbling at the waistband of his jeans.

“Mmm… yes,” Rex’s voice is a low rumble, his breathing ragged as he shifts his body to help me. I struggle to remove his jeans, and he briefly lets go of me to help. At last, his thick cock springs free. The sight of him—so much larger than me in every way—sends a fresh wave of heat through my body.

I reach for him, but my movement is tentative, and I mentally chide myself. I mean, I have the same equipment, so I don’t know what my problem is. I suppose it’s the years of being subtly conditioned to assume that touching a man this way is wrong. The words of those bullies from way back managed to lodge themselves in my brain, even though their fucked up way of thinking doesn’t align with what I believe.

There’s nothing wrong about this.

When I finally wrap my palm around his hot, hard dick, Rex groans, his head dropping to my shoulder. The sound is raw, primal, sending a thrill of power through me. I can make this virile man, my gorgeous Howler, feel bliss as well.

“Yeah, like that,” he whispers, guiding my hand with his. “Perfect.”

The heat of him in my palm is so amazing, and I no longer care what my friends or anyone else might think about me being with a guy. Fuck ‘em.

I watch his face, mesmerized by the way his eyes flutter closed, the slight parting of his lips, the way his neck muscles tense with each stroke. My own need returns with a jolt, momentarily forgotten as I focus on pleasing him.

Rex resumes his attention on me, and the dual sensation—giving and receiving pleasure simultaneously—makes my head spin. Our bodies move in an instinctive rhythm, finding a pace that works for both of us. The sounds of our breathing fill the room, punctuated by soft moans and the rustle of sheets.

I’ve never experienced being so connected to another person, never understood how intimacy could transcend the physical. With each stroke of my hand, I feel Rex’s reactions in my own body—the tension building, the pleasure cresting, each one higher than the last. Rex tightens his hand, his thumb sweeping back and forth across my slit in a way that makes stars burst behind my eyelids. My own strokes become erratic, mirroring the building tension in my body.

“Can’t hold back,” I croak, surprised by how quickly I’ve reached the edge.

Rex’s eyes meet mine, his eyes hooded. “Give it to me, baby,” he growls. “Give me that sweet cum.”

That’s all I need, his words pushing me over the precipice. My orgasm hits with unexpected force, tearing through me like lightning. My back arches off the bed as the intense sensation washes over me in waves. My hand falters on his cock, but Rex follows me moments later. His cum is warm against my stomach, his deep groan vibrating through my chest where we’re pressed together.

For several moments, neither of us moves. My heart hammers, my breath coming in short gasps. Rex’s weight is perfect against me as he catches his breath. The afterglow settles over me like a warm blanket, making my limbs feel heavy and content.

“That was...” I begin, but words fail me.

“Amazing,” Rex finishes, his voice still rough. He presses a gentle kiss to my forehead before rolling slightly to the side, though he keeps one arm draped across my waist. The sudden cool air between us makes me shiver.

Rex reaches for something on the nightstand—tissues, which he uses to clean us both up with surprising tenderness. When he’s done, he tosses them aside and pulls me against him again, arranging my body to fit perfectly against him.

“Come here.” His voice is soft and sleepy. “I’ve got you.”

He’s right. He does.

My eyelids are too heavy to stay open. With a smile on my lips, I drift off to sleep, safe and content in Rex’s arms.

Chapter Fourteen