The Scumbag's Guide To Heroism novel Chapter 565

Chapter 565: 565 | The First Lesson

Sloane’s rhythm was good. Better than good, actually. She’d learned a lot in two months, figured out exactly how to roll her hips to hit the angle that made us both lose our minds. But Diane watched with the critical eye of someone who’d been doing this longer than Sloane had been alive, and after about thirty seconds of observation, she clicked her tongue.

"You’re rushing."

Sloane didn’t stop moving. "I’m not rushing. I’m catching up."

"You’re bouncing like you’re trying to finish a race." Diane’s hand slid from Sloane’s hip to the small of her back, applying gentle pressure. "Slow down. Feel him."

"I can feel him just fine."

"You can feel him, yes. But you’re not savoring it." Diane shifted closer, her body pressing against Sloane’s side, and I watched her lips brush Sloane’s ear. "He’s not going anywhere. You have all night. Take your time."

The bond between me and Sloane flickered with irritation, but underneath it was something else. Curiosity. The competitive edge that made her want to be the best at everything, including this.

Sloane slowed.

The change was immediate. Instead of the frantic up-and-down motion, she started grinding in slow circles, working her hips in a way that kept me buried deep inside her while she searched for the spot that made her toes curl.

"Better," Diane murmured. "Now tilt your hips forward. Just a little."

Sloane adjusted, and when she found the angle, her whole body shuddered. The moan that escaped her was different from before, longer and deeper, pulled from somewhere in her chest.

"There it is." Diane’s smile carried satisfaction. "That’s the spot you’ve been missing. He’s big enough to hit it if you position yourself correctly, but you have to know where to look."

"I knew where to look."

"You were in the general neighborhood. Now you’re home."

I probably should have had opinions about being discussed like a piece of furniture, but the view from my position was too good to interrupt. Sloane above me, pink hair falling around her face, breasts bouncing with each slow roll of her hips. Diane beside her, naked and gorgeous, one hand guiding Sloane’s movements while her mouth whispered instructions against her daughter’s ear.

The System had given me a lot of things. Spectral Reach. Blitz. Lightning Cloak. But nothing in the Gacha could have prepared me for this.

"Use your hands," Diane said. "Brace them on his stomach. It’ll give you better leverage."

Sloane planted her palms against my abs, and the new angle let her drive down harder. I felt her clench around me, and my hips bucked up involuntarily.

"Good." Diane’s voice had dropped into something lower, something that made my cock twitch inside Sloane. "Now when he does that, when he thrusts up, you meet him. Match his rhythm. Don’t fight it."

"I’m not fighting anything."

"You’re competing. There’s a difference." Diane traced her fingers down Sloane’s spine, and I watched goosebumps rise in their wake. "Sex isn’t a fight. It’s a conversation. He says something with his body, you answer with yours. Back and forth until you’re both speaking the same language."

I thrust up again, harder this time, and Sloane met me halfway. The impact made her cry out, her nails digging into my stomach.

"See?" Diane’s hand slipped around to cup Sloane’s breast, rolling her nipple between her fingers. "Much better when you work together."

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