His eyes shot to her.His eyes shot to her. "No . . . " "`No, Lady,' you mean," she instructed him, drawing her nails against his smooth cafe-au-lait skin again. His muscles tensed under her touch as he bucked against her. "Stop!" His voice broke. "Please . . . " "Please WHAT?" she demanded, not letting up but intensifying what seemed to him to hover on a thin and exquisite border between torture and pleasure. He cried out again. Finally: "Please, Lady!" was wrung from his quivering mouth. "What?" She did not stop. "Please, Lady, stop!" Instantly, the sensation ceased, and he threw his head back, panting, eyes closed, the muscles in his arms aching from his struggle against the cords. His eyes jerked open again, though, when he felt her gloved hand against his cheek again. He looked at her, saying nothing, only trying to get his breath back. She was regarding him with a hunger that seemed to make her previous appetite pale to nothing. Her beautiful face closed in on him, and she placed her mouth against his, but did not kiss him. He felt her own breath coming more quickly, and realized that she was becoming as badly aroused as . |