Three Wishes

She struggled to keep up and struggled with her helmet but managed to pull it free at the elevator. Just like she did before, she tossed her head and her shining, gold-red hair flew free about her face and tumbled down her back as she tugged it off and she immediately tilted her head up to him.

  She looked scared and excited and he found he liked that look on her face.

  Very much.

  The elevator came, its doors opened and he shoved her roughly inside. He followed her, tagged the button for his floor and as they ascended, he pushed her against the wall and pressed against her.

  The minute his lips met hers, she moaned and at the sexy little sound, he fought to control the impulse to tear her clothes from her body in the elevator.

  She opened her mouth and he took immediate advantage. She still tasted like wine and the rich chocolate dessert she’d ordered and eaten with abandoned relish, this being a first for him, most women flatly refused dessert or even acknowledged that they desired it.

  Her arms wrapped around his waist under the jacket he was too impatient to force her to wear on the way home and he wondered how she could bear to touch him. He felt like a fever had overcome him and he was certain a single touch would sear her skin.

  The elevator doors opened and he wasted no time, he dragged his mouth from hers, grasped her hand and advanced down the hall. She had to run to keep up with him and when he halted abruptly at his door, she couldn’t stop herself and ran into him.

  This caused her to giggle as she righted herself and his head swung to look at her as he dropped her hand to put the key in the lock.

  She smiled her quirky, effective smile and said, “We’re rather in a hurry, aren’t we?”

  He shoved open the door. “Damned right.”

  He grabbed her hand and pulled her in.

  He threw his helmet in the vague direction of the couch, ripped hers from her hand, not noticing she was glancing about inquisitively, and sent it flying in the same direction. Then his hand locked on hers again and he headed for the bedroom.

  “Nate,” she said behind him.

  He didn’t answer and his step didn’t falter.

  “Nate,” she called, louder this time with her hand tugging at his.

  He heard her but he still didn’t respond nor did he release her hand. He walked into his bedroom, straight to the side of the bed.

  Then he stopped.

  “Nate.”

  His hands went right to her cardigan as his eyes locked on hers.

  “You know, Lily,” his voice was deeper than normal, and harsh, as he pulled the jumper from her body, “you get in that bed with me and it’s anything like what I felt the first time I laid eyes on you, anything like when you first touched me, anything like that kiss in the park, I’m never letting you go. Do you understand me?”

  His words were irrational, even insane.

  But he never dreamed he’d have a woman like Lily.

  Never in his wildest imaginings of which there weren’t many, Nate was not a man prone to wild imaginings; his most fervent desires; even if he’d had a wish, even a single wish from a genie out of a bottle, he would never have expected to have a woman like Lily.

  Not while growing up and sleeping in sheets that were never cleaned. Stealing food so he could eat. Watching his mother insert needles in her veins.

  Never had he expected someone as regal, as magnificent, as Lily.

  Lily, a woman who liked to walk in the park while holding hands; a woman who loved, with unsurpassed glee, to ride on the back of a motorcycle; a woman who would chase courageously after a purse thief and throw herself on his back; a woman who could win over Laura, which wasn’t hard, Laura had a soft heart, and Victor who most certainly did not have a soft heart, in a matter of hours.

  Nate never expected a woman like that, like Lily, to so much as look at him. At least, not the way she looked at him.

  As if he was conqueror of nations, creator of worlds.

  As she was looking at him now, her face wreathed in awe.

  “Do you understand me?” His voice went beyond harsh; it was as rough as sandpaper.

  “I… think… so.”

  That was enough for him.

  “Good.” His hands went to the hem of her camisole and he whipped it over her head, forcing her arms up with it.

  She gasped. She wasn’t wearing a bra and her own hands went to cover her breasts.

  “No.” He grabbed her wrists and forced her hands behind her back, his mouth coming down on hers in a wild, bruising, wet kiss.

  When he felt the struggle leave her wrists as she relaxed into the kiss, he released them and her and stepped back just enough to rip off his jacket and jumper.

  This time she stared at his chest in awe.

  “Christ, Lily,” he swore when he caught her look and his hands found the zipper at the back of her skirt, looking down with near the same reverence at her amazing full breasts. He yanked the zipper down and his hands slid up her back, pushing brutally against it, forcing it to arch, forcing her to bear herself more fully to his gaze. Then, completely unable to stop himself and not wishing to anyway, he bent his head and closed his mouth around her nipple.

  Her breath caught, he heard it, then it released and then it came out in frantic pants as his tongue swirled around her hardening nipple.

  “What are you doing to me?” she breathed in wonder, her hands sliding into his hair.

  He didn’t answer. He did the same thing to her other nipple until he felt her legs buckle and he had to support her weight as he felt tremors flow freely through her.

  Then he lifted his head and left her standing there as he sat on the bed, tugged off his boots and then followed his jeans.

  She looked at him, her eyes wide and fearful as if she’d never seen a male form before in her life.

  This didn’t register on him. He pushed her back on the bed so that she was lying across it and before she even settled he leaned over her and yanked her loosened skirt down her legs.

  “Nate,” she whispered, her hands cradling her belly protectively but he didn’t note this gesture’s meaning. He simply did the same with her panties.

  “Nate!”

  “What?” he growled, his hands at her bottom, lifting her up and depositing her deeper in the bed.

  “I need to tell you something.” She was still breathing heavily, the midnight blue had moved deeper into her irises but the pure blue was still there.

  He spread her legs and settled between them.

  “Talk fast,” he said against her mouth and then didn’t allow her to say a word. He kissed her.

  And it was everything the kiss in the park had been.

  She was beyond magnificent, she was beyond description.

  His hand went between their bodies. She had to be ready for him, if she wasn’t this entire scene was going to become very uncomfortable.

  She was ready, wet and slippery and when his finger slid inside her, unbelievably tight.

  She gasped against his mouth, sucking his tongue deeper inside as his thumb found her. He started circling his thumb at the same time he moved his finger in and out.

  When he did, she rode his hand hard, now kissing him.

  Her hands were everywhere, trailing hotly against his skin, begging him through touch to give her the release he was building.

  “What did you need to tell me?” His mouth was still at hers; her hips were still moving insistently against his hand. He was more than ready for her, he couldn’t wait much longer.

  “What?” she asked in distraction and then gasped as his thumb pressed harder and swirled. “Oh God,” she moaned, her face flushed beautifully, her neck arched regally and he knew she was there.

  Right there.

  His fingers moved away, both his hands found her hips and he positioned himself expertly.

  “Lily, look at me.”

  Her chin dipped down and she tried to focus on him. Her gorgeous hair was spread across his bed, her blue eyes were dazed, her
full mouth was swollen; she was on the edge of climax.

  He’d done that to her, he’d made her look so fucking, unbelievably beautiful.

  And as that knowledge scored through him, Nate drove into her.

  And she screamed.

  * * * * *

  The pain, mingled so fiercely with the pleasure, tore through her like a blade.

  Nate’s entire body stilled.

  He was still deeply embedded inside her and she closed her eyes in humiliation. Now he would know that she’d never been touched. Now the shine would go off her wish and he’d see her as she truly was and whatever was driving him to his behaviour would fade away.

  “Lily?” he called gently.

  She turned her head to the side, the pain was receding. It had been sharp but her cry was mostly of surprise. She was so close to something, something resplendent and it all flew away when the pain came.

  “Lily, look at me.”

  She shook her head.

  She didn’t want to open her eyes, didn’t want to see anything in his but the way he looked at her that night. She didn’t want to see the revulsion, didn’t want to feel him pulling away.

  Although he wasn’t pulling away. He was still deep inside her and not moving a muscle.

  “Darling, look at me.”

  In surprise at the endearment, her eyes opened, her head righted and she did as she was told.

  She wouldn’t have been more surprised at what she saw on his handsome face if every living past president of the United States of America barged in and did the can can.

  He was smiling one of his glamorous smiles. This one chock full of deep satisfaction.

  “No one’s ever touched you, have they?” he asked.

  She shook her head.

  He went on. “It’s only been me.”

  This wasn’t a question but regardless, this time she nodded her head.

  If anything, his smile became more arrogant, more self-satisfied.

  “Why are you smiling?” she whispered, not courageous enough to use her full voice and wondering if maybe he’d gone a little mad.

  His hands moved from her hips to her face and they framed it.

  “Because, darling Lily, no one has ever touched you,” he explained, his voice a contented velvet purr that seemed to slide delightfully against her skin.

  “Is that good?” she asked tentatively.

  This, for some unknown reason, made his body shake with laughter and she felt it everywhere.

  When his eyes focussed on hers again, they were shining with a light she’d never seen in anyone’s eyes ever before.

  Her whole body started to warm again.

  “Oh yes,” he answered softly then brushed his lips against hers before he said there, “that’s good.”

  “Okay,” she allowed, “I was trying to tell you before –”

  “I know.” He moved slowly, watching her closely as he slid out of her just the barest inch. When she didn’t flinch, in fact she thought it felt rather nice, he slid gently back in and that definitely felt nice.

  “I was worried I wouldn’t do it right,” she confided when he slid back out, further this time and her lips pursed a little at losing him. She liked the feel of him inside.

  He was watching her lips, his impossibly dark eyes darkened completely to black.

  “You were definitely doing it right,” he informed her, his voice filled with meaning but his lips were twitching as if he wanted to laugh and was stopping himself.

  He carefully slid back in and her mouth parted into an “o” of sweet wonder at the delicious feel of him.

  It took a moment to realise his body was again shaking with laughter.

  “Quit laughing at me,” she reprimanded him and he executed another smooth stroke.

  His mouth touched hers and he said there, “I can’t help it.”

  “You can!” she demanded and he pulled out fully and she thought he was going away but then he came back, faster this time and she lost her not-yet-fully-formed anger and gasped in pleasure as the sensations came back.

  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 fucking 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 hips 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 fuck 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.”