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I’m Paxton Wilder.
Twenty-two-year-old, five-time X Games medalist.
And I have more tattoos than scars.
I’ve never seen a stunt I couldn’t pull off–
Or a girl I can’t get off.
Until she walks in.
My new tutor is sexy, smart, more stubborn than I am, and one hundred percent off limits.
That’s right–the only rule this semester is Don’t Touch the Tutor.
For the first time in my life, I want someone I can’t have.
She’s the girl who obeys every rule.
I’m the guy who breaks them.
Our biggest risk is falling for each other,
But I live for risk…
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“Is that what you want, Leah?” he asked, his breath hot against my ear, his breathing bordering on ragged.
I whimpered again, answering him with another push of my hips.
He drew back, denying me the pressure I was desperate for. “It’s what I want. Except I want you naked, so I can feel all of your skin against me, taste the tiny beads of sweat I’ll work you into.”
I tried to roll up again, but he brought his hands to my hips, pinning me to the bed. “Paxton,” I whined, trying to reach to kiss him, to get any part of him I could.
“Tell me, I want to hear you say it.”
“Why? You know I want you. Isn’t that enough?” I asked.
His thumbs caressed my hipbones, but I wanted more. Needed more.
“No. I want the words.” He leaned down, dragging his tongue across my lower lip. When I tried to get more, he pulled back, no trace of teasing on his face. “I want to know that I have you on the same fucking edge you’ve had me dangling on for weeks now, desperate to know how you feel, taste, sound when you’re coming apart.”
His words—those sweet, seductive, dirty freaking words turned me up another notch, deepened the pulsing ache I had right where his hips were pressed. How the hell could I keep up with this man?
“Words give you power over me,” I admitted. I tried to roll my hips again, but he held me pinned, immobile. “You’re already the one in control.”
He lowered his head, dragging his tongue from the line of my pajama bottoms, past my belly button, through the valley of my breasts and ending at my neck before he kissed me. There was an edge of desperation to his kiss that hadn’t been there before, like he could kiss my compliance from me.
He damn near did. I would have done almost anything to keep him kissing me like that, but it wasn’t enough. My body was on fire, demanding a release I’d denied it for way too long.
“Control?” he questioned as he pulled away, those blue eyes digging into my soul in a way nothing else could. “Okay, I like being in control, especially when I have you underneath me. But the power is all yours. You just have to realize that I will do whatever you ask, whatever you need. I might control your body, but you control every…part…of… me.” He punctuated each word with a slight thrust against me, the pressure enough to send tendrils of pleasure through my limbs as if he’d caressed my entire body. “Now tell me what you want. I am yours to command.”
“I want your hands on me,” I answered. Then, before he could ask me where, I showed him.