Page 230 of The Last Good Man

“That would’ve been a mistake. Had we had sex,” I say, relishing the feel ofheraround my hard length,“we would’ve messed things up.”

“How? Things would’ve been weirder?”

“Probably,” I say, sliding my hand below her navel and touching her clit.

A shudder goes through her.

When I grab her hard, her center throbs around me, and her legs shake like crazy.

“Up, baby. I want to make you come.”

“I can’t come if you fuck me like that.”

“You wanna bet?”

“No.”

“You can’t stay up?”

“Yes, I can.”

“Give it a try, all right? Try it for me.”

“Okay,” she says.

“Good girl,” I say, cupping her slit and running my fingers over her clit.

She moans every time I touch her, and the more she vocalizes her pleasure, the closer I get to blasting my load.

I’m doing my best to control myself and prolong her pleasure and mine.

I stroke her hard, not sparing her clit, and the more I’m doing that, the wetter she gets and the faster she pulses.

Whether she wants it or not, her body responds to my touch. She leans forward again, pushing her rear against my hand and groin whileI ravage her clit.

Her hands ball into fists, creasing the covers.

For a moment, I go back to when I met her. I wanted to pound her right then and there.

Call it intuition, but I knew what I knew.

I’m not saying that what I said to her wasn’t true. It was all true. Every bit of it. Every word.I have flair when it comes to women.

I know them.

How they think, what they want, what their needs are, how easily they get hurt, and how often men hurt them.

We men may be all beasts, but some of us know how to tame that beast and unleash it only in the bedroom.

Some of us don’t.

They put a suit on that beast and make it say sweet lies before dropping a ton of shit on these women.

I’m not that kind of man. I wasn’t raised like that.

I’ve seen too much, learned too much, and hurt too much. When the women in my house were in pain, I was in paintoo.

That’s why I said what I said.

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