Page 50 of The Love Playbook

“Jesus, fuck, Autumn,” I groan, one hand clenching in her sheets, the other hovering near her head. I want to touch her, but I don’t want to interrupt her rhythm.

But all too soon for my liking, with one last hard suck and swirl of her tongue, she lifts her head. She flashes a devilish grin at me when I let out a moan of protest and drop my head back on the pillow.

“Don’t worry,” she reassures me, her hand squeezing my upper thigh. “We’re just getting started.”

Her fingers slip into the waistband of my jeans and start tugging. I lift my hips, reaching down to help her get my clothes the rest of the way off.

She leaves me to it and strips her shirt off, moving back to get off the bed and remove her pants as well. Sitting up, I reach for her, fumbling with the hook of her bra in an attempt to get her naked with me even faster. But I’m completely inept.

Batting my hands away, she laughs and reaches behind her to undo the bra for herself. Once her tits bounce free of their confinement, I’m waiting for them with open palms, ready to support them instead. Sitting on the edge of the bed, I spread my thighs, making room for her to step closer.

She reaches up and moves her hair out of the way, pressing her chest into my grip. Circling her pert nipples with my thumbs, I watch them crinkle and harden for me. Then I bend and suck one into my mouth, starting off gently like it’s a delicate morsel. But I know she likes it a little rough, so I give her the edge of my teeth until she gasps, her hands coming to my shoulders and clutching, like she’s not sure whether to pull me closer or push me away.

I maintain the pressure for a second or two longer before releasing it and laving her nipple with my tongue. Then I move to the other side and give it the same treatment.

“Jackson,” she hisses, and the sound of my name in that breathy voice is enough to make my chest swell and my heart pound even harder.

Yes. She wants me. She wants what I’m doing to her. I’m making her feel needy and desperate and as greedy for more as I am.

Pulling my mouth from her tits, I scoot back on the bed, making room for her. “Come here,” I command, barely recognizing the husky quality of my voice. “Lie back for me and let me make you come.”

She gives me a sexy smile that seems to say,Don’t mind if I do, taking my proffered hand to climb onto the bed, then settling herself against the pillows, her hair fanning out around her like a mermaid in a story book. Only this mermaid didn’t have to give up her voice to walk on land.

Of course, she’s not looking for a prince to marry either. And even if she were, she’s made it clear that I’m not that prince.

But I’m not going to let that dampen this moment. Maybe she doesn’t want feelings to get involved in our relationship. Maybe she doesn’t want anything serious. Maybe she intends to end this once she feels I’ve learned whatever she’s set out to teach me.

And maybe I can rock her world enough that she won’t want to follow through with that plan.

It’s worth a shot at least. Right?

Holding her gaze with mine, I slowly spread her thighs and settle on the bed between them, my arms circling beneath her thighs and my hands traveling up her rib cage.

She runs her hands up my forearms in response, like she can’t handle going any longer without touching me somehow as well. Like she can’t get enough of me, either.

Good. That’s exactly how I want her to feel.

Dipping my head, I lick her, never taking my eyes from hers. I want to watch her responses. And I want to watch her watching me go down on her. I want to witness every tremble, every gasp, every response that telegraphs her pleasure.

She gives me a sultry smile, clearly enjoying the show as well as the sensations.

I take my time, knowing she likes the slow warm up, learning her textures and flavors all over again.

As I work, her eyes start to glaze over, and even though she’s watching me, she has that abstracted look she gets as her focus turns inward.

I smile against her wet pussy, knowing that now is the time to focus my attention on very specific parts of her. I give her one long, firm lick from bottom to top, then reverse it and point my tongue, spearing it inside her.

She lets out a soft gasp, her hips wiggling.

I fuck her with my tongue a few more times before bringing the point of my tongue to her clit. I start with slow, wide circles, growing tighter and faster until I suck the swollen little bundle between my lips.

She jerks, and when I glance at her face—unfortunately I can’t bury my face in her pussy and watch her closely at the same time—her eyes have fallen closed, her face flushed, her lips parted.

She’s getting close, I can tell. But she’s not there yet. Which is fine with me. I’m not done playing either.

I repeat this circuit a few times, gratified that I can read her nonverbal responses so well that she no longer feels the need to give me specific directions.

Giving her ribs and then her hand a gentle squeeze as I withdraw one hand from her torso, I bring it between her legs. I know what she needs to get over the edge.

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