Page 73 of Striker’s Rebel

“I said I will.”

“You don’t lie because you think I’ll stop.”

I narrow my eyes. “Keep bossing me around and I’m going to bite you.”

His mouth curves.

“Promise?”

God.

This man.

I drag him back down and kiss him.

His hand slips between my thighs, and the first touch steals whatever comeback I had left.

He knows exactly what that does to me now.

Which feels deeply unfair considering I only figured it out myself yesterday.

His fingers find me wet and already swollen for him, and I gasp when one slides inside.

Striker pauses just long enough to look at me.

“Still good?”

“Yes.”

He curls his finger and hits the spot he found yesterday.

My hips jerk.

His mouth twitches.

“Oh, shut up.”

“Didn’t say anything.”

“You were about to.”

“Maybe.”

His thumb moves over my clit.

Whatever I was going to say vanishes.

He does it again while his finger works inside me, slow and steady, and my thighs fall wider around his hand.

“Fuck.”

“Yeah?”

“Don’t sound so pleased with yourself.”

“I’m fucking thrilled.”

I laugh, but the sound breaks when he curls his finger again.