[The true secret, and perhaps the dirtiest of them all-- is that she doesn't need to work so hard to draw it from him. The thought of his "prize" is more than enough reason to mean every word. But he does not stop her from trying to earn it. The feel of it is more than worth his cheeky silence.

But he does not allow her to do it totally in vain. He holds off, allowing her to hear the full depth of his low moans; breathy and strained. He allows her to feel the tightening grip of his hands in her hair as she works over his more sensitive spots.]

I do not understand it... the deep, unending longing I feel for you. Or why you have caught my eye in a way that no one else yet has. But it burns so fiercely inside of me-- I fear the flames may swallow me alive if I do not have you.

[It is not begging in the traditional sense. It is overly wordy and deep-- yet there is a depth to those words that is not planned or perfected. They rush from his lips like unbidden secrets-- deep truths he struggled to keep locked away. They bring a fierce color to his cheeks; eyes narrowed and hungry as he watches her.]

To come at your hands would but postpone my yearning. I need a heat stronger than my own to overpower the flames. I need to have you. To take you. To feel you. Nothing else will satisfy me.