Taming His Tutor (Entangled Brazen) by Natalie Anderson Page B

were in pain. “Don’t do that. Not yet.”
    But she did. He felt too good.
    His eyes flashed open, boring into hers. “Do it again and I’ll stop.”
    With a struggle, she relaxed her muscles. Breathing hard.
    He too huffed out another long, harsh breath. “You feel fantastic.”
    “So do you.” She gulped.
    He pushed again, harder. Abbi wrapped her arms around his back, quivering as she fought the urge to clamp down on him—she’d come if she did.
    But she wanted to feel him thrusting hard and wild and out of control and at the point of orgasm himself.
    Then she’d come again.
    “Good.” His word was muffled as he slammed his lips over hers.
    She opened and he thrust his tongue into her hungry mouth. Pleasure engulfed her, more so as she tasted his groan. But then he broke the seal.
    Desperate, she arched, writhing beneath him. She needed more.
    “That’s it. Move with me,” he whispered.
    At his powerful stroke she clamped—couldn’t help the reaction as he filled her. She felt his length hit the top of her cervix. A pleasure pain. She breathed out and relaxed for a second before the second stroke hit. Harder. Even deeper.
    Her fingers curled into his shoulder.
    Joe.
    He was so much more than she’d ever imagined he’d be. In body, in force, in person. In soul .
    So much better. And she’d never felt as fantastic, never been held as close. Never as filled. Never as free.
    She threw back her head and let herself fall into his rhythm.
    Tighten, release, tighten, release.
    Close. Closer. Closer still.
    Their dance quickened, so good she wondered if maybe she was delirious. If maybe she was dreaming this whole thing.
    But not even her imagination could come up with pleasure this extreme.
    And he was too huge, too powerful, too damn demanding not to be real. So vibrant, so virile…and so vigorous she was going to feel the effects of his possession for days.
    And she was going to revel in that.
    “Abbi,” he growled as she tensed on him again.
    She lifted her chin, opened her dazed eyes, and smiled at him delightedly. “I told you I’d been working out.”
    …
    “You’re too strong.” Joe narrowed his eyes.
    If she did that again his eyes were gonna roll back in his head and that was the last thing he wanted. He wanted to see her in his moment—looking up at him like that. All flushed and aroused and willing. And his.
    She felt so fucking good.
    If she wanted to get her vixen on, fine by him. But ultimately, this was where it was at. She could dare and tease and try it on. But it would always end up like this—with him deep inside her. With her welcoming him. And what a welcome.
    That was what he wanted.
    He’d had to flip it—seeing her hesitate when she’d first gone astride him? Seeing the passion leach from her eyes as doubts crept in? He couldn’t let that happen; he’d had to take charge. And fuck him if it hadn’t been the best idea ever. Turned out she responded most to him taking charge.
    How the hell could she think she wasn’t an equal participant?
    But the way she’d clamped so tight on his finger when he’d pushed inside her was nothing compared to the sensations pouring through him now.
    Her big breasts were flattened against his chest, her body a heated satin cushion. And her pussy like a vise on his aching cock. She clenched on him again and again like she was trying to milk him every time he thrust deeper.
    So he couldn’t stop thrusting.
    Vixen, all right.
    When he shifted his position slightly, pushing against her at a different angle, the little trickster wriggled her hips and kept up her feminine assault on him. Like she didn’t want to let him go ever.
    And he was losing. Losing and loving it.
    How the hell could she think she was bad at this? How could any guy tell her that bullshit? Momentarily angered, he grasped her wrists again, pulled her arms up above her head, pushing them deep into the mattress. Driving closer still.
    Her moans were music to him. The flush