Page 61 of The Love Playbook

Another groan as her hips lift, seeking more. More licking. More friction. More of anything she can find.

“Don’t worry, baby,” I reassure her. “You know I’m not gonna leave you hanging. But this is fun. I’m not quite ready for it to be over yet.”

“Oh god,” she whispers, and I can’t help grinning again.

This might be the most fun I’ve had in a while. And considering all the fun I’ve been having with Autumn, that’s saying something.

CHAPTER THIRTY

Autumn

Jackson keeps me on the edge for what feels likehours.And it’s the hottest fucking thing anyone’s done to me in … I don’t even know. Maybe ever.

He keeps his fingers inside me, alternating between rubbing my G-spot like I taught him and slow, shallow thrusts. And with his tongue, he explores every nook and cranny of my pussy, including removing his fingers and fucking me with it. It’s like he’s cramming for a test on my pussy’s contours and textures, and he’s determined to ace it.

Every so often he focuses on my clit, circling it with the tip of his tongue, lapping at it from different angles as he fucks me with his fingers, sucking it between his lips until I’m arching off the bed and so close to coming I think I’ll die if I don’t get to … and then he stops.

Just fucking stops.

When I whine or protest or glare at him, he gives me a boyish grin, truly delighted with himself.

And starts all over again.

After so many edges I’ve lost count, I don’t think I can take anymore. I hit him with my best glare, which probably loses some of its effect from my heaving chest and trembling thighs. “Jackson Lancaster, you fucking sadist. If you don’t let me come soon, I’m going to take care of matters myself.”

He tsks, extracting his fingers to rub them gently over my clit. “You think so?”

I drop my head back on my pillow with a groan. “Who would’ve guessed you liked edge play?” It’s a rhetorical question, and I don’t expect an answer, but he responds anyway.

“Edge play.” He sounds thoughtful. “Is that what this is? I must say, I am becoming quite a fan.” Then he lowers his mouth to my pussy again, his fingers slowly pumping in and out of me.

“Oh god,” I whine. This is fucking torture. “Please please please let me come. Please, Jackson. Please please please.”

I’m so afraid he won’t finish me off that I never stop begging. He seems to like it, so maybe if I do it enough he’ll let me come at last.

It takes almost no time for me to get right to the edge again, and I hang there, holding my breath, waiting for him to stop again.

But he doesn’t. Oh thank all that’s sacred, he doesn’t.

He glances up at me, then sucks my clit between his lips, his fingers pressing hard on my G-spot as his tongue flicks over my clit. With his eyes holding mine, I explode in the biggest orgasm I’ve had in so long, my legs spasming right along with my pussy.

And he never lets up. Fucking me through it with his fingers, his lips still wrapped around my clit until I can’t take anymore, and I have to shove his face away from my crotch.

“Jackson. Stop. Please. I can’t … no more.”

He finally pulls away, and when his fingers slide out of me, it feels like a loss. I want them back.

Well, actually, I really want something else. But I know that’s not on the menu.

He crawls over my body, his hard dick pressing into my pelvis as he lowers himself over me, precum painting my belly.

I catch his face in my hands before he can kiss me. “You are something else, Jackson. You know that?”

Another boyish grin that’s pure delight. “Thanks for noticing. Not everyone does.”

He stops my laugh with a kiss, his tongue sliding into my mouth, tasting of me. Wrapping my arms around his neck, I lose myself in the kiss, grateful for the respite before we take care of him.

I was going to save this for Wednesday, but since we’re here, we might as well take advantage of the opportunity.

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