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Page 120 of The Striker (Gods of the Game 1)

“Please.” Scarlett gripped my wrist and tried to guide my hand down between her legs. “Asher,please.” A sob rent the air when I resisted.

“Patience, darling,” I soothed. My lips grazed the shell of her ear. “Let me play with you first.”

I kept one hand on her breast while the other continued its exploration. She shuddered and panted, so damn responsive that it took everything in me not to haul her into the bedroom and fill her up the way she was begging me to.

There’d be time for that later, after I finished what I’d started.

After an agonizing length of teasing that was as torturous for me as it was for her, I finally brushed her clit with my thumb. She was so on edge that the single, featherlight caress ripped a strangled cry from her throat.

Scarlett bucked against me hard enough to send water splashing over the side of the tub and onto the floor. Her fingers gripped the porcelain edge with bleached-white knuckles, and a series of unintelligible moans filled the room when I stroked her swollen bud.

“Oh, God.” She gasped as my hands pinched and rubbed and squeezed in tandem—one on her breast, the other between her legs. My teeth scored the curve between her neck and shoulder as I fought to keep the leash of my control intact.

My cock was so hard it fucking hurt, but I pushed its demand for attention aside for now.

I increased my pace, loving the sounds of Scarlett’s cries and her body’s response until her body stiffened and she came with a scream.

Her orgasm rolled on and on, its ripples seemingly never-ending as she convulsed from the intensity.

I groaned against her neck, my breathing ragged. I wished I was inside her, feeling her cunt clench around my cock while she flooded me with wet heat, but this wasn’t the place for that, and this wasn’t about me. It was about her.

Eventually, Scarlett’s orgasm subsided, and she slumped against me.

“I think I’ve found a new favorite way to take a bath,” she said, sounding dazed.

Laughter rumbled up my throat. “Mine too.” I wrapped my arms around her waist from behind and pressed a kiss to her shoulder. “We should do this after every day.”

“You won’t hear any arguments from me.” Scarlett hummed with pleasure. “But we’re not finished yet.”

I sucked in a breath when she adjusted her position and sat up straighter so she could grasp me without turning around.

“Is that right?” I drawled. A low buzz filled my ears. I couldn’t see what she was doing, but God, I couldfeelit. “What else did you have in mind?” My strained voice belied the casual words.

She glanced at me over her shoulder, her gray eyes sparkling with mischief. “More like what I have in hand.”

“Fuck.” The curse slipped out when she squeezed the head of my aching cock. “Scarlett…”

“Yes?” she said innocently.

I didn’t answer. Icouldn’t. Every thought emptied when she slid her hands up and down my shaft, her slick palms working in tandem to yank me toward the brink. She let go occasionally to scrape her nails lightly across my balls, but I quickly lost track of her individual movements.

I was too focused on the electric heat gathering at the base of my spine. My muscles turned rigid, and I?—

The jarring ring of the doorbell brought a screeching halt to my orgasm. My eyes flew open as the asshole visitor rang the bellagainless than a second later and thoroughly killed the moment.

I hissed in aggravation when Scarlett released me fully. Who thefuckwas here this late in the evening?

“That must be our takeaway.” She looked like she was trying not to laugh as I glowered at the door. “I’m sorry, baby. I’ll finish taking care of you when I get back. I don’t want you scaring them off.” She arched an eyebrow at the bubbles, which had cleared enough for us to see my still-raging erection beneath the water.

“The delivery guy has the worst timing ever,” I growled. “Zero stars for them.”

A sliver of Scarlett’s laugh escaped. “Don’t be mean.” She climbed carefully out of the tub and belted a thick robe around herself. “I’ll be right back.”

I sank deeper into the tub, cursing past me for thinking takeaway was a good idea. We should’ve ordered itafterour bath. That way, I wouldn’t be sitting here with blue balls.

The minutes ticked by. She was taking awfully long for a quick delivery.

Concern cut a path through my grumbles and coalesced into alarm when I heard voices in the living room. Why thehellwas the delivery guy in her flat?




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