Page 96 of Criminally Yours

Strike smirked as a tortured moan escaped her mouth. “That was a little test. From following your account to reading your books to learning about the app, it’s clear words are important to you, and I’ll make them work for you so we can destroy your walls—if you want to.”

“I get myself off to audiobooks sometimes.”

“Fuck that’s hot.” She blushed, and he got impossibly harder. “Go and lie on your bed with my copy ofThe Soldier’s Temptation. You can read it while I prepare.”

“And if that’s not enough?”

“It’s worth a try. It’s about having fun, turning you on, and seeing what happens next. No pressure. Read the steamiest scenes, especially the bath one. I want you wet for me.”

CHAPTER 41

Millie

Millie’s fingers itched as she leafed the pages, reading the spiciest scenes from her favourite book.

There was a pulsing between her legs. Fear should have derailed her desire, but instead, she was soaking. It wasn’t because of the book. It was him. In every chapter, Strike was the soldier.

Throughout the last ten years, she’d thought she had no one, but he’d cared and learned about her. Now, he led her, supporting her and catching her when she fell.

And she’d catch him, too, especially as opening the domineering side of himself scared him.

She reread the chapter where the soldier and the woman he protected bathed together—how her chest rose and fell with deep breaths as the soldier slipped his hands between her thighs and played with her clit.

She closed her eyes, imagining Strike’s hand between her thighs, his fingers slipping inside her pussy?—

Strike’s name lit up her vibrating mobile.

Her breath shook as she answered the call.

“Are you enjoying your book?” The depth of his timbre had her arching her back already.

“Yes.”

“Have you gotten to the bath chapter? It’s one of your favourites.”

“Yes,” she replied huskily.

“I love the way you own what you like. Such a good little brat.” That was what the soldier said to the woman in her book. The way Strike growled it made her moan. “I want you in the bathroom. I won’t join you immediately. This won’t be exactly like the book.”

“Okay.” Her nails scratched at her duvet.

“Are you walking to the bathroom, Sunset?”

She climbed out of bed. Her legs shook as she walked. “Yes.” Her skin burned with arousal.

Pushing open the door, she gasped. Candles filled the room, and Strike’s musky orange scent rose from the bubbled water.

“Put me on speaker,” he demanded.

Her quivering fingers made everything more difficult. “Done.”

“Slowly undress. Tell me what you’re doing as you remove your pyjamas.”

She swallowed loudly and bit her lip.

“When you remove your shorts, Mixie, I want you to imagine my smirk as you reveal your skin. I was desperate to slide my hand between your thighs as you lay in bed next to me. I wanted to run my fingers across you and make you tremble.”

She gasped at the fantasy.