Page 51 of The Love Playbook

Gently I slide my middle finger inside her, and she lets out a soft grunt of encouragement. I give her a few thrusts before withdrawing. Then with my middle and index fingers together, I push them inside her, loving her soft groan and the way her hips lift, like she can’t imagine anything better than my fingers in her sweet pussy.

With my lips wrapped around her clit, I rub the inside of her pussy, following her jerky movements and soaking in her soft cries as I drive her closer and closer to the peak. The walls of her pussy flutter around my fingers as her hips move, but I don’t let her get away, don’t let up on the suction or pressure, the tip of my tongue working over her clit.

And then she explodes with a cry, her thighs shaking, her pussy contracting rhythmically around my fingers.

The same sense of satisfaction comes over me as the other times I made her come.I’mthe one who gave her so much pleasure she literally lost control of her muscles. I’m not sure there’s any feeling better than that.

As her contractions recede and her legs go limp, I place a soft kiss on her pussy and withdraw my fingers.

She lets out a moan of protest and reaches for me. Wiping my mouth with my hand, I rise over her, following the urging of her grabby hand motions.

Cupping my face with her hands, she brings my mouth to hers, kissing me deeply. “That”—she punctuates the word with another peck—“wasamazing.”

Grinning, I kiss her again. “Thank you. I’m glad you enjoyed it.”

Her smile splits her face, and I swear she fuckingglows. “I assure you, the pleasure was all mine.”

“I don’t want to argue with you, but I’m not sure I agree.”

She chuckles and kisses me again. “You ready?”

I suck in a breath, because … yeah. I’m ready. But also, some part of me wasn’t sure she was serious about this. “To, uh … um …” And right on fucking cue, heat rushes from my chest to my hairline, and I swear my ears are probably bright enough to serve as airport beacons.

“To fuck my ass?” she finishes for me with a nod. Her chuckle this time is more sympathetic, and she rubs her hands on my chest. “It’s okay, Jackson. We both know that was on the agenda for today.” Her use of the word agenda reminds me that she sees this as more of a lesson than a date, and I wonder if she did it on purpose as a way to put distance between us after what she’s already admitted was an amazing orgasm. Followed by multiple kisses.

Can she really do this and not feel anything at all?

But I ignore those thoughts and jerk my chin in a quick nod.

With a triumphant smile, Autumn releases me and rolls to the side, reaching for a bottle and a square packet on the nightstand that I didn’t notice before. It’s easy to miss things in all the clutter, after all. And when we got in here, all my attention was on Autumn anyway.

“Sit back,” she instructs me, pulling herself to sitting and tucking her knees under her.

Watching her, I do as she says.

She moves closer to me, reaching for my throbbing dick and giving it a few strokes as though it needed any encouragement. “Now, I know you’re a virgin so we don’t really need to worry about STDs on your end. But I’m clearly not. And while I am clean, you should never just take a hookup at their word about that.” She holds up the square packet. “Condoms. Always. Unless and until you’re in a serious relationship and show each other negative health screening proof. Got it?”

When the pause stretches, I realize that wasn’t a rhetorical question. I give another jerky nod. “Got it,” I croak.

She tears open the packet and pulls out the condom, holding it up. “Do you know how to do it? Or do you want me to do the honors?”

Blinking a few times, I look between her and the condom.

With a cheeky grin, she inches forward again, discarding the wrapper and taking me in hand. “I’ll take care of it this time. But pay attention.” She holds up the condom so I can see it. “Notice which way it goes. You want to pinch the tip so there’s a little room, then just roll it on.” As she’s describing the procedure, she does it, and I have to bite back a gasp at the tight, flexible glove she rolls onto me, her touch almost clinical, but turning sensual as she strokes me a few more times, leaning forward to kiss me.

“Keep in mind,” she continues in her teacher voice after ending the kiss, “if you put it on wrong, you need to get a new one.”

“Seriously?”

She nods. “Yup. It can damage it. And damaged condoms don’t exactly work well. Don’t keep them in your wallet long term, and if you suspect anything’s wrong with the one you have, get a new one. So bringing a backup isn’t necessarily being overly optimistic, it’s being smart in case there’s a defect. And when you’re done, you hang onto it when you pull out so it doesn’t come off.”

I blink at her a few times. “Right. Got it.”

Smiling, she reaches for the bottle. “Now. Lube.” Holding out her hand, she drizzles a generous amount into her palm and strokes me again, the heat of her skin dulled somewhat by the condom, but there’s no denying that it feels good. Especially when I’m hard and aching and wanting like this. Any touch, any amount of friction, is welcome.

She hands me the bottle. “Now. You do me.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

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