Page 46 of Striker’s Rebel

It also seems to be doing something for him.

His gaze moves over me with absolutely no attempt to hide what he’s thinking.

Every insecurity I had five seconds ago gets quieter.

“Fuck, June.”

Apparently that is all it takes.

His palm cups my pussy, and I suck in a breath.

He begins to rub my clit with steady pressure, and my hands lock around his shoulders.

“Look at me,” he says.

I force my eyes open.

He slides one finger inside me.

I stiffen, a sharp breath hissing between my teeth. The stretch is unfamiliar, almost too much at first.

Striker freezes instantly.

“You okay?”

“It’s just... a lot.”

“I’ve got you. Breathe for me.”

He stays still while his thumb continues moving over my clit, keeping the pleasure there while my body gets used to the feeling.

Slowly, the tension in my hips eases.

The discomfort gives way to a heavy ache that makes me shift against him without thinking.

His eyes darken.

“Don’t stop,” I whisper.

A dark smile touches his mouth.

“Greedy girl.”

His finger begins moving again, and this time the sensation is completely different. Heat spreads through me with every stroke.

When he adds a second finger, I gasp.

The stretch makes my thighs tighten around his hand, but the pleasure comes with it now, sharper and deeper.

“Striker.”

“Yeah, little rebel.”

His fingers move faster, curling inside me until he hits a spot that makes my entire body jerk.

“Oh, God.”

His gaze locks on my face.