Before he could beg, he needed to get some quality whining in there at suddenly being deprived of her warmth that feeling. Just a small sound, deep in his throat, but it got across his feelings of deprivation quite nicely.

"Please, cherie," he said, looking up into her eyes. "It kills me not to touch you. I would do anything--anything--you ask of me, Xanthippe. But I need to touch you, taste you, make you cry out. I need to feel you, please."