Page 50 of Striker’s Rebel

“You still want this?”

I look at him. At the man who has stopped every single time I hesitated, even when I didn’t say a word.

“Yes.”

His gaze stays on mine.

“Sure?”

“Yes, Striker.”

He bends and kisses me.

“Then I’ve got you.”

The head of his cock presses against me, slick and hot, and my breath catches. He moves against me first, teasing my clit until anticipation twists low and tight in my stomach.

My hips lift without permission.

His mouth curves.

“Impatient?”

“You’ve been torturing me for what feels like an hour.”

“Wasn’t torture.”

“Easy for you to say.”

“Rebel.”

I grab the back of his neck. “Braxton.”

That wipes the amusement right off his face.

Interesting.

Very interesting.

He kisses me hard, then pulls back just enough to look into my eyes.

“Tell me you want me.”

The roughness in his voice sends another shiver through me.

“I want you.”

His eyes darken.

“Say it.”

“I want you inside me.”

That does it.

He presses forward.

The first stretch steals my breath.