“What’s the lesson?” she asked as she straddled him, knees tucked up on either side of his legs.

“This one is called Don’t Wake the Dogs,” he said, then clasped one hand on her mouth yet again, and dipped his other hand underneath her skirt, sliding his fingers across the slick wetness on the panel of her panties. God, there was little he loved more than the evidence of a woman’s arousal. He slid his fingers inside, gliding across that silky wetness that made his whole body feel electric. Touching her at all was such a privilege; touching her in this heightened state was a gift.

Her eyes glittered with lust as she rocked against his fingers. He couldn’t resist—he drew his hand away from her legs, brought his fingers to his mouth and sucked off her wetness. Her eyes flared as she watched him.

“All morning, I could still taste you on me. I had to taste you again,” he said, then returned to her slick flesh, sliding through her slippery wetness that told him exactly how much she’d enjoyed having her breasts sucked.

So much that his fingers were coated in her. She was some kind of live wire right now, and he intended to make her body sing. He ran his fingers across her heat, then zeroed in on her swollen clit. She muffled a moan against his palm. She wasn’t going to take long at all. My God, the things he could do with her body. The pleasure he intended to give her. The possibilities were endless.

“Let me feel you all over my hand,” he said, his eyes on hers the whole time as he slid a finger into her, crooking so he could find that magic spot. She bowed her back in response to the penetration. Her slick walls gripped his finger, and he added one more, all the while rubbing his thumb across her clit. “Rock into my hand. Do it hard,” he commanded.

She did as told, riding him, humping his fingers, fucking his hand furiously. She was a gorgeous sight, all wanton and naughty, and his lungs burned with desire for her; his dick ached to fill her. His body craved her climax. He wanted it badly, wanted her to fall apart for him in the sky.

She tensed all over, her thighs gripping him, and her eyes squeezed shut. “Come quietly,” he whispered, urging her on. “I want to watch you come quietly.”

She shuddered and dug her teeth into his palm, her body shaking before she collapsed into his arms.

He held her.

“Can I touch you now?” she said, her sweet voice melting him. He loved that she offered, that she seemed to want to, even if it wasn’t part of her “training.”

He raised her chin so she could meet his eyes. “No.”

She frowned. “Why? Are you into orgasm denial? That is no fun.”

“Not in the least. But the answer is simple—I don’t want to be quiet. And I don’t want to wake the dogs, or annoy the flight attendant. That’s why I said no. But rest assured, when we’re back in New York we’ll get through some other items on your list.”