Count On Me

Part Fifty One

Party Fifty One

Nate had woken not long later, and the heated tension that passed between them rather than ebbing, just seemed to build. Through dinner in the hotel restaurant, a movie in the hotel room, and Nate's bedtime stories...the sexual heat just increased notch by notch.

In their hotel suite, they couldn't pounce on each other, or devour each other as they both desperately wanted to do, and Oscar knew that he couldn't make Lizzie scream the way that she wanted to, instead, they had to watch a film, share a bottle of wine whilst they waited for Nate's wriggles and sighs to become softer, deeper snores. They'd got a smaller single bed delivered to their suite earlier in the day via the concierge, but Nate was still in the same bedroom as them, so thoughts of prolonged and noisy sex were battling with the conscience of him possibly waking.

But it didn't stop the hot looks, the subtle touches...and that bloody heat. Lizzie collapsed onto a chair, away from Oscar when he went to the bathroom, purely because she was about to explode if he touched her again.

When Oscar emerged he grinned, "putting distance between us, hey?"

It was the first time either of them had referenced what was happening, and she tried to deny it. "Better lighting here to read."

His chuckle was deep, arousing, and she fought the shudder that hit her spine, "reading? Ok."

He poured her a glass of wine then crossed the room to hand it to her, "so you're not trying to keep away from me?"

Lifting her eyes she stared at him, trying desperately to seem in control, "why should I keep away? Are you planning to hurt me?"

His eyes widened, predatorily, "hurt you? Oh no. Quite the opposite, that is unless you want me to hurt you."

That was said with such menace, that she couldn't help but blush.

"Shit, you have no idea what that does to me."

"What?" She asked genuinely confused.

Again that tiger like grin spread across his face, "blushing...makes me think of doing unmentionable things to you!"

She jumped to her feet, needing more air, suddenly she was becoming smothered by tension...but he was standing over her, and climbing to her feet only put her closer to him.

He waggled his eyebrows as he pulled her against his chest, "now this is more like it. I have been dying to get my hands on you since I last had them on you earlier. Remember that?"

It was deliberate, calculated, meant to catapult her back to the moment when she let him pleasure her in the pool. But she didn't blush, instead she shrugged, "I think so."

That made him smile, "ah...I see you may need reminding then."

With that his lips found hers. "Nate," she tried to breathe against his lips. That made him smile.

"He's asleep...you just have to be quiet." He murmured as he swooped down to bite the base of her neck, "if you can."

"I hate you!" she breathed against his jaw as his hands slid under her vest to the smooth, but very sensitive skin of her spine.

"Hate is a very strong word," his lips were at her ear and causing goose bumps to appear all over her body. Stepping back from her, he backed across the room until he was sat on the sofa, then beckoned her with a finger. For a moment she resisted, fought against the urge to run and throw herself on top of him, she still needed to keep something back, needed to retain that hint of control. And it was hard.