"No questions? No worries?"

Her natural instinct to be direct overtook her. Feeling brazen and dangerous, she grasped his hand and guided it between her legs so he could touch the damp heat of her panties. She was soaked through the cotton panel. He hissed the second he made contact. "Fuck," he muttered, then slid his fingers across the thin fabric. She arched into him, wanting so much more. He dipped his mouth to her neck, mapping a hot trail along her skin until he reached her ear. "See how turned on you are now? You're going to be so much wetter after you take me in your mouth for the first time. Do it now," he said, and she felt a rush of heat that began proving his point.

She kneeled, and looked up, waiting instructions.

He raised an eyebrow appreciatively. "Unzip my jeans," he said as he worked on his shirt, starting from the top button. She wasn't sure where to feast her eyes, whether on him systematically undoing each button, revealing inch by inch his strong, broad chest, or on the throbbing hard length right there behind the denim.

She couldn't look away from his hands though, especially when she saw his chest for the first time-his strong pecs, his flat and hard belly. She was tempted to stand so she could trail her long nails across his skin and watch him hitch in a breath, watch his reaction to her.

Uh-oh.

Old habits died hard. This wasn't about what she could do to him. It was about what he was doing to her. With her eyes and fingers on his crotch, she popped open the button on his jeans, and slowly unzipped his fly, the teeth of the zipper spreading.

Did he wear boxers or briefs? White or black or blue? She was about to find out.

The answer nearly knocked her to the floor when his cock sprang out, long, thick, hard and completely riding free. She stared at the glorious sight. She might even have gawked, slack-jawed, because he was stunning.

As she tugged down his jeans, she looked up at him. "You go commando," she said with a grin as she stated the obvious. But the obvious needed to be stated, and admired.

"I do."

"Have you always been totally naked under your jeans every time we've gone out?" she asked, as he unbuttoned the final button on his shirt, then pulled it off and tossed it on the floor.

"Yes."

Casey's eyes widened. To think, the whole time she'd known him, he'd been naked under his jeans every single time. Every time she'd had dinner with him, gone to the movies, a baseball game, a comedy club, or an art gallery, he'd been one layer away from nudity.

"All the time?" she asked, craving some kind of final confirmation of this mouth-wateringly gorgeous vision of his free-range cock.

Ready at a moment's notice. Every second of the day.

"Yes, I go commando all the time. Every time you've seen me I've been riding free. Now, I need you to stop talking and put that mouth of yours to a better use. Suck me now, Casey."

There it was again. That rough, commanding tone. The order that sent an unexpected rush down her spine. Then his hands were on top of her head, his fingers digging into her hair, as he tugged her closer so her mouth could meet his hard, hot cock. She curled a hand around the base. He groaned from her first touch. She hadn't even wrapped her lips around him yet. A thrill raced across her bloodstream from his reaction. She brought the head to her lips, swirling her tongue and tasting him like he was candy.

His fingers gripped her hair harder, digging in through her strands to her skull. She drew him in more, licking and lapping him up, but keeping up a teasing pace, only letting him in so far. She knew how to give a hell of a blow job. She was skilled in driving a man crazy and to the brink of lust-fueled insanity. She'd take her sweet time with her hand curved tightly as she stroked him, and her lips giving the head the special treatment. From the way he rocked his hips into her, he liked it. A lot.

"No teasing," he growled. "Take me all the way in."

Okay, so maybe a change of pace was called for. She opened wider, and brought him deep, the head hitting the back of her throat.

She heard a sharp breath, then a groan as he grasped her harder and rougher, spearing her hair with his strong fingers. "That's better. Keep it up like that, sweetness. I'm not going to be gentle. I intend to fuck your pretty little mouth."

His dirty words were like some kind of switch in her sex drive that he'd tripped. They sent the temperature inside her from scorching to inferno. She'd never suspected Nate was like this. She knew he was strong in business, commanding in the boardroom, but she hadn't let her mind imagine what he'd be like in the bedroom. Now, she was discovering a new, dominating, dirty side to him. On the surface she was in control, with her teeth millimeters from his most sensitive flesh, but he so clearly had all the power as she sucked him to the base as he'd demanded, her mouth becoming a warm tunnel for his shaft. He tasted delicious, the perfect mix of clean and musky.

Opening wider, she gave him total use of her throat. He took every inch of the real estate, filling her all the way to his balls that she stroked and tugged as she sucked.

"Lift your skirt up," he said roughly. "Pull it up to your hips so I can watch you."

She yanked it up, revealing her wet lacy panties. "Beautiful," he said in an appreciative growl. "Spread your knees more."

Feeling terribly vulnerable, but terrifically naughty, she widened her knees on the navy blue carpet of his hotel room. Thank God, The Luxe had soft carpeting. She hated rug burn.

"Pull your panties to the side. Let me see how turned on you get from sucking my dick," he told her as he continued his thrusts in her mouth.

Heat rushed between her legs, and she ached there, a deep and exquisite hollowness crying out to be filled. With one hand on his balls, and his cock rendering her incapable of any speech, she yanked the panel of her panties to her thigh. She was glistening between her legs. She was coated in wetness, the kind of silky dampness that would make for a fabulous, frictionless fuck. Oh lord, her body was demanding to be touched. Begging. She desperately craved his hands, his fingers, his mouth, and his cock.

"That's a gorgeous sight," he murmured and she sneaked a peek at him. The scene was so surreal. Nate standing up, jeans at his ankles, his tall, strong body revealed to her for the first time. She on her knees, loving his delicious dick with her mouth as she spread herself for his viewing pleasure. His hands were wrapped around her head, restraining her, controlling her, as he stared so hungrily between her legs. His eyes were wild, like a feral animal.

She'd never felt so craved in her life.

Then he leaned his head back, closed his eyes, and groaned so loudly she was sure he was about to come, that she would taste his saltiness sliding down her throat any second. The possibility electrified her, arousing her more than she'd ever expected. She wanted it. Badly.

Instead, he stopped abruptly. He pulled himself out of her mouth, leaving her on the floor with her legs and her mouth wide open.

"Take off everything but the shoes, and bend over the bed."

Her natural impulse was to talk. To say something. To ask what he wanted next. She didn't know what he planned to do, but as she stood, she realized that was the point. He hadn't told her. The anticipation was its own aphrodisiac. He kicked off his shoes and jeans as she stripped down. As she reached for the clasp on her bra, the reality of what they were doing reared its head again. She was about to be naked in front of him. She wasn't ashamed of her body at all, but this was another turning point in their relationship. From this point on, he'd always know what she looked like naked.

Carpe diem, she told herself, as she unhooked her bra and tossed it on the floor.

His lips parted as his eyes roamed her body, his gaze finally hooking on her breasts. She dipped her thumbs into the side of her panties, and was about to pull them off, when he placed his hands over hers.

He dipped his head to her neck and pressed a soft kiss to her collarbone. That seemed to be his favorite spot on her. "You're so beautiful," he murmured against her skin, and a sweet rush of tingles spread through her from his tender words. Cupping her breasts, he whispered, "I can't resist touching them."

Desire ricocheted inside her. "I like it," she said, fully aware that they were breaking character, but she knew he was okay with it, because he'd broken first. And truth be told, she loved his unfettered reaction to her body. She loved that he simply had to give in, and hell, did he give in as he squeezed and kneaded her breasts so expertly that she was about to shout take me now.

That would defeat the purpose of this lesson, so she simply let herself exist in the exquisite pleasure of this moment, and of Nate worshipping her body.

Until he returned to that voice he'd used before.

"Now turn around, put your hands on the bed and bend over for me."

"But you told me to take off my underwear, and it's still on."

"I changed my mind. I want to take it off. Turn around now."

She did, placing her hands on the edge of the bed, bending her back for him, her ass in the air. So many words started to take shape on her tongue-are you going to fuck me, are you going to touch me, are you going to taste me . . .?

She shut her mouth, trying to truly free her mind of the need to know everything.

"Close your eyes," he told her, and she did. Now it was all in the waiting. The room was dark, there was no music-it was only the two of them, and the possibilities.

His hands traced a warm path on her back, making her tremble. When he reached her ass, he cupped her cheeks and groaned. Then she felt a whoosh of air between her legs, his warm breath as he blew. Oh God, what was he doing to her? She was throbbing between her legs, hot and damp and absolutely aching for him. His fingers curled into the band of her panties. He inched them over her cheeks, down her thighs, to her knees. She started to step out of them, but he grasped her ankles firmly in place, a reminder that he was in charge. He left the panties at her ankles.

"Stay like that. I want to look at you."

She didn't move. The image of him, naked, erect, and so fucking handsome as he stared at her body turned her insides molten. She was so aroused she could feel a bead of wetness slide down her thigh.

For the briefest of moments, she was embarrassed, but any worries were quelled by Nate. Or more precisely, by his mouth that captured that drop on his tongue. She gasped at the feel of his lips on the inside of her legs, and then again at the realization that he'd been watching her so closely that he saw everything, every response in her body.

"You taste so good," he murmured as he licked her thighs. He pressed a palm on the inside of each leg, and gently guided her to a wider stance. "More. Spread them more and raise your ass higher," he told her, and she bent lower, leaving herself completely open to him. Shoes on, panties at her ankles, not a stitch of clothing covering her body. Turned on beyond any and all reason.

She cried out. His tongue. Oh God, he'd flicked his tongue once against her clit, and then stopped, and she was dying for more.

"I need more of you in my face," he said, and it was half a command, and half him simply giving a play by play as he took the matter into his own hands, using his thumbs to spread her open for him. "Perfect," he said, then returned to her heat, pressing his lips to her and diving in. Her vision went fuzzy. Her world turned into a black and silver blur. The feel of his mouth was breathtaking, and in an instant pleasure engulfed her body. The sweet oblivion of desire radiated throughout her entire being as he licked her like a ravenous man.

"So fucking delicious," he whispered as he flicked his tongue against her swollen clit. She moaned so loudly she was sure someone would hear if they were anyplace but a hotel with soundproof walls designed for this kind of play.

His lips were soft, his tongue was divine, and he ate her pussy like he'd never had anything he wanted so much. Pleasure forked inside her, spinning from her belly to the tips of her fingers. He gripped her hips harder, holding her firmly in place, restraining her with his big hands as he consumed her wetness. He lapped up every drop of her, sending her spiraling into such a state of bliss that all she wanted was to come. The pressure built to a crescendo. She wanted to crash on through to the other side.

"Oh God, Nate," she cried out. "I'm so-"

He cut her off. "You're so close, aren't you?"

"Yes," she said, aware somewhere in her mind that this was part of the control. That he was in charge of everything.

"Work for it," he said, then returned to her pussy, licking, teasing, but still resisting that final push.

She rocked back into him, desperate. "Please. Please, give me more."

Another lick. Another deep, consuming kiss. She was so damn close to ecstasy.

"Please," she cried out, desperately seeking orgasm.

"Please what?" he said on a quick pause.

"Please, don't stop."

"I like that you said please. Now be as loud as you want. I'm not going to stop 'til you're coming on my lips."

She moaned and lifted her hips higher, dropping down onto her elbows, giving him all the access he needed, making herself one hundred percent vulnerable. Giving in to him. Handing over all her control.

"I'm so close. Oh God, it's so good."

He licked and kissed her in a heated frenzy, his own moans so damn sexy that his sounds of pleasure set her off.

She shouted his name.

Her body detonated. Her climax swept through her, crashing over every square inch of her mind and body. She panted and moaned, and practically sang out with joy from the sheer intensity. She didn't think it would ever stop as wave after wave spread through her, bathing her in ecstasy. He slowed as the orgasm ebbed away, giving her one final sweet kiss before he rose, pulled her gently up on the bed, and wrapped his arms around her, spooning her.

She brushed her hair away from her face, her bones still humming, her body awash in the afterglow. "Wow."

He kissed the back of her neck, and she turned to meet his gaze. He looked, quite simply, happy.

"That was . . ."

". . . amazing."

She trailed her finger along his stubble. "Are we going to have sex now?"

He shook his head, and she dropped her jaw in surprise.

"But I thought-"

He cut her off. "I want to. I want nothing more than to take you. But waiting for it is part of letting go."

That was true. It was completely true. If she wanted to learn to give up control, he had to withhold. But that wasn't the only reason he planned to wait for another time.

Because it ensured another time.

CHAPTER SIX.

35,000 feet, midday . . .

The black, white and brown beagle mix wagged its tail at his feet.

"No more begging, buddy. Back to your seat," Nate said, pointing to one of the back rows in the plane where a year-old French Bulldog, a middle-aged Terrier, and some kind of Dachshund-mix lounged on a blanket spread across the seats. The Dachshund had been particularly well-behaved and Nate was thrilled for that, given the home that was picked out for him.

The Beagle didn't listen. He kept wagging his tail, waiting for scraps from the chicken salad that had been served for lunch. Nate was sorely tempted to feed the little guy, especially when that tail started thumping wildly on the carpeted floor of the plane. But the dog would be better off in his new home if Nate didn't indulge him in bad habits now.

"C'mon. Time to get back to the pack," he said gently, gesturing once more to the dog's companions.

"Psst," Casey whispered, tapping his shoulder. "I think he might not understand English yet."

Nate laughed, set down his nearly empty plate on the lacquered brown table, then scooped up the dog and carried him to the rear of the plane where a row of cushy seats had become the temporary quarters for the hounds on the flight. "Go back to sleep with your friends," he said, gesturing to the other four-legged creatures who'd been conked out most of the ride. He stroked the dog between the ears and scratched his chin 'til he settled, curling up in a tight ball. The canine quartet of traveling companions was hitching a ride on his flight on their way to New York. The local shelter in New Orleans didn't have room for all the dogs, and had made plans with a no-kill rescue in Brooklyn that had already matched these four pets with homes in the metro area, since New Yorkers often preferred smaller breeds. Nate was an animal lover and had grown up with dogs, so he regularly arranged to be an "escort" for animals in need, ferrying them from various locales around the country back to the Brooklyn shelter that served as the matchmaker.

One of the dogs-the Dachshund-was en route to his sister, Kat. She lived on the Upper East Side with her husband, his buddy Bryan, and the small dog was a gift for their twin daughters. Nate would have liked to have a dog himself, some kind of scrappy breed like a Border Collie that could catch Frisbees in the park and go for long runs along the West Side bike path with him. But he traveled far too often to be able to give a dog a good home. He did this instead; chauffeured pets in style to their new homes. His small contribution to the world.

He returned to his seat, the flight attendant having cleared their plates. Casey was wearing a short jean skirt and high-heeled sandals. He didn't try as hard today to refrain from staring, but he did give himself a three-count for a quick perusal before returning his focus to her eyes.

"Some day, I'll have a mutt of my own." He nearly dropped his hand on top of hers, and clasped it, like they were on a date. He resisted, and, not for the first time on this flight, he wondered if she was refraining too. Not from holding hands, but from talking about the night before and the mind-blowing physical connection they'd shared. Neither one had mentioned it this morning. She'd rushed out of his room to shower and pack. He'd had early meetings on the property. While his trip to New Orleans had started a few days before hers had, he was done with business by mid-morning, so he'd simply made a few final calls and then they'd taken off for the airport.

The dogs had distracted them most of the flight. They'd barked on takeoff, then needed, understandably, some petting and comfort once airborne. Still, he wasn't entirely sure what to say next to Casey. Or if anything needed to be said. He knew his way around women, but this project with Casey was a little . . . unconventional. Should he ask when their next lesson would be or simply tell her the time to arrive and what to wear?

Tight leather skirt, no panties, and heels. Oh hell, there went any semblance of concentration.

"When you get this mutt of your own someday, what will you name him?" she asked, twirling a strand of her hair around a finger. Maybe she was nervous, too. Wait, was he nervous? Hell no. Nate didn't get nervous.