She bit her lip, he watched her do it and he lost his caution and lapsed into a heady, belly-somersault-inducing rhythm.
“That feels quite nice,” she whispered, although it felt more than nice. It felt lovely. It felt delightful.
It felt magic.
“It feels f**king unbelievable,” his voice growled into her ear and tingles slid up from her belly like champagne bubbles.
“It does?” she was still whispering, moving her h*ps up to meet him and finding that deepened his thrusts magnificently and she caught her breath and decided immediately to do that each time.
His tongue was at the skin just beneath her ear and she felt her belly fluttering, her skin tingling and a lovely tickling spread from her ear to everywhere.
“You’re so tight, so wet, Lily, the sweetest I’ve ever had.”
He was going faster and she was climbing higher, going to that place he took her before. His words touched her at her core and she felt herself quiver in places she didn’t even know existed.
“Nate,” she breathed as his hand went between them and touched her there again, “God, Nate!” This was not said on a breath but an explosion, her hands crawling over her skin, memorising the hard muscles of his back as he said he’d memorise her.
He thrust in and out, filling her completely as his fingers did their magic and she lifted her hips, matching his thrusts, feeling it build. It was almost unbearable, exquisite torture.
He was right, it was sweet and beautiful and she let him ride her like she rode his hand, desperate for it, her body crying out for it, the tension at waiting for it seemed to clench every muscle she possessed.
“Let go, darling,” at his murmured words dancing deliciously in her ear, she did as she was told not even knowing she was holding on.
She cried out as it overwhelmed her, planting her heels in the bed to press up against him. While the fire engulfed her, the waves of pleasure undulated deliciously up and out and all around from between her legs, he stopped all attempts at gentle, his hand moving from between them back to her hips. He held them steady as he slammed into her again and again and she gloried in the pounding.
She lifted her head, so beyond timidity it wasn’t funny, completely overtaken by insistent, heady, pulsating passion. Her hands slid into his hair, guiding his face to hers and she kissed him, opened-mouthed. His tongue invaded her mouth like his body was invading between her legs. She coaxed it, goaded it, welcomed it and when he finished, she accepted his luscious, deep groan against her tongue like it was a precious gift.
* * * * *
Nate liked to sleep alone.
He rarely brought a woman back to his flat, it was too difficult to get rid of them once he was finished with them. If he went to their flat, he could leave whenever he was finished.
He’d moved into this flat years ago but he’d recently purchased a large apartment closer to the office in an even nicer neighbourhood and he was moving to it in just a few weeks.
He lay on his back in the bed, the sheet casually thrown over his lower body, listening to Lily moving about quietly in the bathroom but giving her privacy.
And as he lay there, he thought of his new apartment, a purchase he had made with investment on his mind. And he thought of Lily in that apartment and nothing about investments entered his mind. And he thought of Lily in the enormous new bed that was being custom built to go in that apartment and the idea of sleeping alone never entered his mind.
He rolled on this side, grabbed his phone and dialled his parents’ number. Laura, he knew, might get worried.
Luckily, Jeff, Laura nor Danielle answered. His brother and sister, unlike Nate, had never moved out. They had never paid rent, as Nate had done on his first flat, or a mortgage, like he’d done on this one, nor had they bought a bag of groceries or anything that came close to self-sufficiency.
Instead, Victor answered.
“Lily isn’t coming back tonight,” Nate informed him.
“I figured as much,” Victor replied, not even attempting to keep the prideful chuckle out of his voice.
“She isn’t coming back tomorrow either.”
“Going back to Somerset?”
“No,” Nate answered shortly.
“I figured that too.”
Nate tried not to be annoyed at his father’s know-it-all attitude. Tonight was a good night. It was the best night of his life. He didn’t much feel like being annoyed.
“Son, when you make your mind up about something you usually don’t f**k around. Never have, likely never will. I saw you looking at that girl outside Harrods. Frankly, I’m a little surprised it took three days.”
Nate decided to end the conversation, “Good night, Victor.”
The amusement never left his father’s voice when he returned, “’Night Nathaniel.”
“Who are you talking to?” Lily was standing in the doorway to the bathroom. As the sun was finally down, Nate had turned on the lights at either side of the bed.
She had a white towel wrapped around her body and she was rubbing the balls of one of her feet against the top of another one.
“Victor,” he answered, watching her, making every effort, and it took a lot of effort, to stop himself from hurtling out of the bed and dragging her back.
She looked absolutely adorable.
And she was his, only his, no one else’s, just his.
She was the only good and decent thing in his life that had been just his.
She interrupted his pleasant reverie. “I knew that, I heard you say your Dad’s name. I meant to ask why?”
“I told him you weren’t coming back tonight.”
Her eyes rounded in shock, she took a quick step forward and halted. “You did what?”
“You’re staying with me tonight,” he told her.
“I can’t stay with you. I can’t not go back. If I don’t go back they’ll know what we’re doing, what we did, I mean, what we’ve done!”
He didn’t respond mainly because she was correct.
She shot into the room and started to grab her clothes from the floor.
“I have to go back,” she announced, bending double to put on her underwear, the rest of her outfit tucked under her arm. “They put a roof over my head. I mean, you’re their son.”
“Lily, come to bed.”
She whirled on him at the same time attempting to pull the camisole on over the towel.
“No! You have to take me back.”
“I’m not taking you back.”
She had the camisole on, ripped the towel off and threw it on the bed. This sent the clothes under her arm flying but she grabbed the skirt as it fell. Then she shook it out and was clearly about to put it on and ignore him completely.