Overly Manly Man Novels & Stories

“There’s your problem. Waitin’ on her. Actin’ like a lap dog, happy for scraps.” Kane stood and jammed the wire cutters in his back pocket. “See, women tell you they want a gentleman, when in reality, they want a man to take charge. Sexually speakin’.” “What?” “Hear me out. A woman wants a man who can’t keep their hands offa them. A man who can make them feel feminine, sexy and needed. Desired, but not in a way that diminishes their independence outside the bedroom.” He stared at Kane with his mouth hanging open. What’d gotten into his brother?

They didn't walk like wolves; they moved like predators who owned the very ground they stepped on. ​The man in the lead was the largest. He wore a long, dark coat that billowed behind him, and his eyes weren't the yellow of a normal wolf, they were a piercing, glowing silver. Behind him, three other men followed, their expressions ranging from cold fury to heartbreaking concern. ​Elara scrambled backward, her back hitting the tree trunk. "Please," she gasped, her voice trembling. "I’m just a rogue. I don’t have anything. Please don't kill me."

I pick up my phone and pull up the email again. Three profiles. Three men. Three masks. The Gentleman. A half-mask, oni style. Elegant. Sharp. His photo shows a man with a jawline carved from patience, salt just beginning to thread through dark hair at his temples. A suit tailored like second skin. He looks like control. He smells like rules you want to break. His list: bondage, anal play, slow torture of the best kind. He likes precision over chaos. “I enjoy unwrapping a woman like a gift. Slowly. Thoroughly. I want to hear you thank me for every second of restraint.”

I smirked, a bit amused. “No one declares war on drugs and lives to tell the story, Aldo. I’m sure you know that much. You see,” I lifted my knuckles to my face, staring at the knuckle rings that designed my fingers, “the thing about overly confident men like you is that, you always overstep your boundaries, and you do not know when to stop.” I rose to my feet, jamming my hands into my pockets. “One thing is certain, though. Your lot would always meet an inevitable end.”

Her delicate hand caressed him with a tenderness that spoke volumes. Expletives escaped his lips in a fit of frustration. A low, menacing growl rumbled from deep within Alaric. He stood tall among the frail people who were slowly succumbing to the overwhelming feeling of happiness with an air of elegance and courage. He exuded such raw power that Emaline was unable to look away from his overwhelming masculinity. As she watched the man's movements, her hands seemed to take on a life of their own, effortlessly mirroring his every action.

But Zavian had articulated her feelings on the matter perfectly. "There’s a certain category of pathetic, insecure males who delude themselves into believing they become 'real men' when they use their fists against women. In reality, they are weak, impotent cowards with severe inferiority complexes they try to cover with bravado and violence. They lack trust or believe in themselves, so they show off their physical strength against a weaker target," Zavian added coldly then took a contemplative sip of his wine.

Too easily broken. I wanted something violent. My mind wandered unbidden to the Ironmaw guards I had seen in the courtyard earlier that day. Huge, towering men. Thick necks, heavy, calloused hands, and broad, brutal shoulders. Men who smelled like pine and raw aggression. Men who looked like they could easily pin me to the floor and fuck me until I was too exhausted to even remember my own name. I needed that weight. I needed that sheer, unbridled, animal force driving into me, splitting me open.

"That man really scared you shitless, huh? Why don't you stop and think for a moment—can two fists beat four opponents? We'll take him down easily!" "Well said!" A middle-aged man with a hawkish nose agreed. "It's true that Lugh Frankton has beaten our fraternity twice and shouldn't be underestimated, but weren't they all just riff-raff? I'm not trying to brag, but I might fare better than the kid in his place." "Quit yapping!" A woman with golden locks of hair rolled her eyes at the middle-aged man. "You really think that you could beat that many people on your own?" The middle-aged man was at once nodding and fawning over Goldilocks. "Yes, yes, of course. I apologize for overstepping in yo