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Page 119 of The Striker (Gods of the Game 1)

I brushed my lips over hers in the lightest of kisses. “So what do you want?”

“I want to stay here.” I felt her smile more than I saw it. “I didn’t pour a quarter of my fanciest bubble bath for nothing. That stuff is expensive.”

Relief and humor laced my chuckle.

She’s fine.Like she said, she’d tell me if she wasn’t, and I didn’t want to assume I knew her body better than she did. If there was one thing Scarlett couldn’t stand, it was people pitying or babying her. She didn’t need that. Regardless of her physical condition, she was one of the strongest people I knew.

“Then we’ll stay, and I won’t treat you like a porcelain doll.” My lips grazed hers with each word. “I promise, I’ve never imagined doing to dolls the things I’m going to do to you.”

My mouth curved at her sharp intake of breath.

“Turn around,” I said.

She obeyed, and I waited until she’d settled into a comfortable position before I grabbed a loofah from next to the tub and dipped it in the still-warm water. I squeezed it over her shoulders, letting the foam-tipped beads drip down her back, before I rubbed them in with long, languid strokes.

Our conversation tapered into her soft sighs and the gentle splash of water as I worked my way over her body. White sudsy trails trickled down her bare skin, and she looked so beautiful and content sitting there, her limbs heavy with desire, that I could’ve spent the rest of my life doing this.

I’d never bathed anyone before, but the intimacy of it destroyed me more than sex. To have Scarlett trust me enough to take care of her when she was at her most naked and vulnerable…it was a gut punch in the best way possible.

After I finished lathering her back, I ran the hot water again before I moved the loofah around to her front. I glided it up her thighs and over her stomach to her chest. The water lappedagainst the sides of the tub with every movement, creating a rhythm that was almost hypnotic.

Steam rose from the freshly heated water and curled in lazy tendrils around us. The air was redolent with the scent of lavender and soap, and an aching tension muffled any noises that might’ve bled over from neighboring flats.

In that moment, we were the only people on earth.

However, my languorous exploration of her body came to a brief halt when Scarlett sank deeper against my chest and shifted in a way that rubbed directly over my cock.

Heat raced to my groin.

I gritted my teeth. I was rock-hard, but I forced myself to finish the bath without rushing. When I smoothed the loofah over her breasts, she let out a breathy sigh that made every last drop of blood head south.

“You know exactly what you’re doing, don’t you?” I said roughly. I underscored the question with a nip on her ear.

A shiver rippled through her. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“No?” I ditched the sponge and cupped her breast, giving it a punishing squeeze. “Try again.”

Her shiver intensified into a full-body shudder. “I don’t want you to use the loofah anymore,” she said, her voice thick with desire. “I want you to touch me with your hands.”

“Where do you want me to touch you?” I released her breast and slid my hand over her stomach. It went taut, her muscles quivering from the light caress. “Here?”

She nodded.

“Or here?” I dipped lower to her thighs, parting them so her knees pressed against mine. I couldn’t see through the layer of bubbles, but I could picture her pussy, pink and perfect andwet.

“Yes,” she breathed.

“Maybe you want me to touch here instead.” I trailed my fingers over her inner thigh, my knuckles just grazing her clit.

Scarlett’s whimper amplified the pressure gripping my cock. I hadn’t touched it, but hearing her whine with need was almost enough to make me blow.

My muscles throbbed with pent-up lust. If we hadn’t been sitting, my knees might’ve buckled from the sheer force of my desire, but I took it slow—for now.

“You’re a greedy little thing, aren’t you?” I murmured when she arched her back and tried to press harder against my hand.

Instead of giving in to her insistent squirming, I took my time, my palms mapping every inch of her wet, flushed skin. I dragged them back up over her hips and stomach until I reached her breasts again. They were soft and firm, tipped with diamond-hard nipples that strained for my touch.

I rolled them between my fingers, tugging and pinching until her whimpers escalated into full-out moans. Her hips surged up, seeking friction that the water couldn’t give.




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