Darcy knows that Lizzie's smiling, now that she's won, now that she's found his limit. But she doesn't release him, and instead continues to lick along the ridge of his abs.

"Please what?" she says, in the same soft, controlled voice, pushing him further.

He tries to hold back, to not give everything away at once, but he can't. Now that he's started, he can't keep himself from begging, asking, needing her.

"Please touch me," he breathes, then says it again, stronger.

She doesn't, immediately. She moves her mouth down to kiss his inner thighs, still moving her hands. All he can do is pant and plead and pull his wrists against the tie. If his hands were free, they both know that he'd be touching her, teasing her, trying to make her feel as good as she's making him feel. But she's keeping the focus all on him, on his body, making everything more intense and powerful.

She leans up, looks at him with a wicked smile on her lips, then runs her hand along him, from bottom to top, just once. He can't even breathe for a moment, can't even process how good it feels, can't even stop his body from straining toward her. He moans, loudly, desperate for her. She swirls her thumb around his head and he gasps, "please…"

But she stops there, removing her hands, and places her knees around his hips. He looks up at her, sure she can see the disappointment and desperation in his face. But her eyes hold his gaze evenly. He watches, eyes wide, as she bites her bottom lip, just a bit, and runs her hands from her waist up to her chest. Her fingers spread out over her bra as she firmly grasps her breasts. "Oh, god, Lizzie," he moans. She smiles and moves her hands around to her back, unhooks her bra, and tosses it aside in one fluid motion. He stares openly at her chest, completely entranced, watching as she takes her breasts into her hands and kneads them, teasing her nipples until hers are as hard as his. His hands almost reflexively open to cup her breasts, but he's too far away.

Lizzie starts to rock her hips against his, and the pressure of her against him is overwhelming. It's nearly unbearable, to have her so close and still not be able to touch her. He needs to hold her, to kiss her, to feel her. She rolls her head back, enjoying herself, enjoying torturing him. "Please let me touch you," he whispers. "Lizzie, god, please, let me touch you, please." He's panting, his mouth is dry, and he's barely getting enough air, but he can't bring himself to care, to think about anything other than her.

Slowly, as he watches, she runs one hand back down her body to her panties, then slips it inside. Her eyes close and her face shifts as she starts to touch herself, just for a minute. Her mouth is wide, her breathing rapidly becoming more ragged, and it's almost too much for him. "God, I want you so much," he cries out. She slides her hand out from her panties, then pulls them down off her body. She leans over to the nightstand to pull out a condom and slides it onto him as she watches him.

"I want you," he tells her again. "I want to be inside you. I need you, Lizzie."

She lowers herself onto him and his mind goes completely blank as his eyes close. Every thought, every word, everything that isn't her fades out, and all he can do is feel her everywhere around him. Her hands are hot against his chest, and her hair falls against his neck as she leans down to kiss him. She goes slowly at first and then he's begging again, asking her for more, harder, faster, please.

Darcy moans, "Lizzie, please," as she rocks into him over and over and over, as he pushes into her deeper and deeper and deeper. He holds on for as long as he can, but eventually finds himself almost ready to break. He can tell from the noises she's making that she's close as well. "Lizzie, can I come? Please let me come," he pleads, knowing that he needs to beg her, that she controls him in this moment, that she controls him in every moment. He asks again, barely able to get the words out, but she hears him.

"Yes," she whispers intensely. He pushes up into her as hard as he can, then can't wait any longer. He comes with a gasp, his muscles tensing then finally releasing, and he feels her clench around him as she comes, too, breathing his name. She collapses on top of him as the tension in his body fades away and he sinks into the mattress, everything but her erased.

After a minute, she reaches up above his head and unknots the now stretched-out tie, allowing his arms to flex and relax, then slowly come forward and wrap around her, holding her tight to his chest. His breathing hasn't fully recovered, but he can't wait any longer. Darcy draws her head up to his and kisses her, softly but thoroughly, leaving no room for doubt. "I love you," he tells her, and Lizzie smiles back at him. "I love you, too," she says, then smirks, "Sorry about your tie."

Darcy laughs. "I'm not," he says, and kisses her again.