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But I couldn't move beyond the trembling that wracked my body.

I wanted to rattle the handcuffs until people in the next room heard. Surely someone would hear? From what I could see of the hotel room it was big, but did not take up the entire floor. The wall behind the bed had to be shared with another room on the other side. Right?

I did none of those things. I couldn't.

He had me right where he wanted me, and I was powerless to escape his pull.

If I kicked him away, or drew the attention of someone else, he could stop. Or worse, he could keep going. I didn’t know how I knew, but I was sure this was only the beginning of what he could do to me.

I was locked under his spell.

He tortured me with his tongue, lash after lash, building the most intense and delicious pleasure in my core.

"Please," I chanted, not sure when my begging switched from asking him to stop to urging him to continue. I didn't understand it. I didn't understand how he could make me feel like this when I didn't want to feel like this.

How could he build so much pleasure in my veins, too much pleasure, pleasure to the point I wanted to scream, when I didn't want to be here? Why was my body betraying me?

His eyes slid closed as his devilishly long tongue slid inside of me, tasting where only he had ever even touched.

My eyes rolled to the back of my head and my hips arched up.

It only encouraged him.

He pushed his tongue in deeper then drew it out only to thrust back inside of me.

It was better than the gun, and not just because I wasn't afraid his tongue could kill me. Though that fear added something to it.

This was different from his fingers.

His tongue didn't stretch me to my limits like his fingers did. There was no stinging strain or even the same hard pressure against my G-spot. The pressure built like it did before, but this was different. Better. Less intense yet more overwhelming.

When my thighs trembled on his shoulders, he moved back to licking my clit.

He kept me on the edge of oblivion but never let me tumble over.

He was ruthless. Working me until I was ready to scream and see God just to force me back down to earth, denying me that pleasure.

"Beg," he demanded.

I clamped my jaw shut, refusing.

I was not going to beg for him.

That wasn't who I was.

I was lying to myself. I had already begged him to stop, to never stop, but I didn't want to let him know he was breaking me.

He may have been violating everything I knew about myself, changing me in ways I couldn't understand, but I was not going to give him that.

Not again.

He let out a dark little rumble that I felt as much as heard.

Damn him, that rumble pushed me even higher. Until my thighs ached and I needed it. If he didn't relieve that pressure soon, I was sure my body would just spontaneously combust.

"Beg," he growled again, his intense dark eyes on my face.

There was something so erotic about making eye contact while his tongue was inside me. I just knew that I would remember this moment for the rest of my life. It didn't matter whether I lived only another few hours, or a few more decades. Nothing was going to top this moment.