Chapter 11
Chapter eleven
The Next Morning
It’s midmorning when I wake up.
Light spills through the sheer curtains in golden bands, like grace.
Santiago lies beside me, his chest rising in a steady rhythm, one arm flung across my waist like his body can’t stop touching me, even in sleep.
I’ve never experienced anything like this. Never knew it was possible. I don’t want to break the magic spell.
Santiago has unlocked a piece of me aching to be set free, and there’s no going back.
Last night this man gave me every inch of his focus. Eliminated my self-consciousness with every kiss, every touch, every orgasm. What happened between us was more than sex, it was something transformational.
Logically none of this makes sense. People meet and fuck each other silly every day. That isn’t what happened. Well, we did, I guess, but it was so much more than how many times he made me come—and I’ve absolutely lost count.
What’s going on defies logic. Every cell in my body is drawn to him spiritually, physically, and mentally. Like we’re two halves of a whole and now we’ve found each other.
I can’t explain it and, for the first time in my life, don’t care to analyze it much.
I know what I know.
He’s mine and now it’s my turn to reciprocate.
I kiss his chest tentatively. He doesn’t stir. Trailing my lips downward, I feather kisses across his collarbone and on his nipples. I move the sheet and continue down his stomach, until I see his cock. Soft, resting against his hip.
It’s my first look when he’s not fully erect, and even in its dormant state, impressive.
He shifts a little as I move the sheet off him completely and take him in my hand. I kiss from his crown down his shaft, eliciting a small twitch so I repeat, savoring him more with each pass.
Santiago’s hips shift when I flick out my tongue and drag it up and down the thick vein along the underside. He tastes musky and salty and of something a little sweeter I can’t pinpoint.
Oh. It hits me. I realize the taste is probably me.
This triggers a new memory of last night when he licked his own come out of my pussy. Spent what seems like hours worshipping my every nook and cranny. My core clenches as I remember the hottest thing I ever experienced in my life.
Heat rushes through me and, without thinking, my lips close over the tip of his cock. I swirl my tongue into his little slit and suck.
He groans, still sleeping, as his cock fills.
I take more and more of him into my mouth, bobbing up and down until the tip touches the back of my throat. In an almost trancelike state, I savor and suck, coating him with my saliva.
Somewhere in my haze, I hear his voice graveled with sleep and surprise. “Rosa…”
I hum around him, committed. His cock is harder now, hot and pulsing as I explore him with shallow sucks and gentle licks. As he lengthens and thickens, it’s impossible for me to take him entirely in my mouth anymore so I wrap my hand around his base, hoping I’m doing everything the way he likes.
My goal is to give him as much pleasure as he gave me.
Breathing through my nose, I flatten my tongue and lick from the base to the tip, wetting him thoroughly. My cheeks hollow around the length of him. He groans and bucks into me. His hand finds my hair. Not to push, not to control, but to guide.
“Fuck, yessss,” he grits out. “You feel amazing, baby. So fucking tight and wet.”
The praise steadies me.
Subtly, he shows me what he likes with the slow rock of his hips. He doesn’t force himself too deep and isn’t rough, but it helps me learn how to please him. I swirl my tongue around the head again then drag it down his shaft.
He grimaces and bucks. “Will you go lower?” His thumb brushes my jaw. “Suck on my balls?”
“Like this?” I lift his cock and suck them gently, one at a time. The sound tearing from his chest makes my core tighten.
“God, Rosa…” His hips gyrate. “You’re a goddamn miracle.”
I smile and press his thighs apart, bolder now. Eager to make him let go so I can drink him down, I increase my pace. Licking and laving, fondling his ball sack while my tongue teases the head.
“Am I doing okay? Are you close?” I peer up at him through his spread legs.
He nods. Gently. Affectionately. Decisively.
He reaches down to cup my cheek. “I could let go but I’d rather be inside you. Come up here.”
He sits up and draws me into his lap.
“Let’s do it this way.” He guides me to straddle him.
I blink. “You want me to be on top?”
“Yeah.” His hands glide up my sides, thumbs brushing the underside of my breasts. “I want to look into your eyes and come together.”
Oh. My. God. Yes.
I settle over him. His cock, slides between my folds. He doesn’t shift to push inside, instead, he angles my hips, palms firm on each of my ass cheeks.
“Feel how hard you make me?” he purrs as he moves me against him. My clit drags along the thick ridge of him, just beneath his head. “Right there. Grind on me. Let’s see how close you can get before we fuck.”
I rock my hips experimentally.
The sensation is…astonishing.
His cock slides perfectly through my slit with slow, hot pressure. The friction is a different kind of intensity. The visual of his cock nestled between my pussy lips combined with the sensation on my clit is nearly too much.
“Oh,” I whisper.
He watches me like he’s in complete awe. “Yes, Rosa. Holy fuck this is hot. Do you like it?”
“God, yeah.” I start grinding in slow circles, pressing down, rolling up again. His pubic bone catches me with every roll of my hips. The heat builds quickly, dizzying and sweet. My hands splay on his chest. His mouth finds my breast, and when he draws a nipple into his mouth, I cry out.
“Fuck, Santiago—”
“Keep going,” he murmurs. “Take what you need. I’m yours.”
He doesn’t thrust. His hands remain planted on each cheek, helping me find the perfect angle as his mouth moves from my breasts to my throat and back again, devouring me like chocolate. Every time my clit drags over him, the sparks take me higher and hotter.
A wave builds, intense, consuming, new. I clutch at his shoulders, hips stuttering.
“Santi—something’s happening—”
He looks into my eyes, breath ragged. “Let it. Let go.”
He pinches my nipple hard and I detonate.
It crashes through me, sharp and bright.
This isn’t just an orgasm, it’s so much more.
My body seizes, pleasure radiating and spiraling through my center like I’ve been waiting to erupt this way for years.
I sob into his neck, unable to stop the rush of it.
My pussy trembles and clenches and then I soak him with a gush of release.
His arms are around me in an instant, holding me close.
“God, Rosa,” he breathes. “You’re everything.”
I can barely speak. My breath comes in broken little gasps.
Santiago guides his cock inside me. The mere sensation of him stretching and filling me is so incredibly right, I come again, soaking us both even more.
He couldn’t care less. He seizes my hips and fucks up into me. We move together, chests and lips fused together, faster and faster in molten frenzy. His fingers slip between us and he presses my clit with his thumb.
One little touch and I clench around him and explode yet again at the exact same time as he erupts, whispering my name like it’s sacred.
After, I collapse on top of him, reaffirming this is not just sex we share. It’s power. It’s surrender to the inevitable.
We’re meant to be together.
He leans back on the pillows, taking me with him. There’s so much heat still in the air, even more of him inside me—in my body, my head, my breath.
We’ve slipped into a different kind of space. Not morning. Not night. A suspended reality and the knowledge our lives have changed forever.
Santiago strokes my back, his chest still rising beneath mine, slow and steady.
God, I belong here. I never want to leave this bubble.
“Come on,” he murmurs into my hair. “We’re a mess. Let me wash you.”
He lifts me gently off him, and I whimper at the wet slide of his cock slipping free.
He’s right, of course, we’re utterly ruined.
He’s dripping out of me, hot and thick. He carries me to the bathroom, arms strong beneath my thighs, turns the shower on full-force.
The moment he sets me on my feet, the warm mist envelopes us.
He steps in behind me, soap already in his hands and begins to wash me like it’s an act of devotion.
His palms trace down my spine, across the curve of my waist and then between my legs with gentle, slow sweeps.
His fingers slide carefully over every tender place, cleaning me before the water rinses it away.
My legs are weak so I lean back into him, eyes fluttering shut.
He walks us back to the tiled wall and sits on the built-in bench, spreading his legs wide. “Sit on my lap.” He grips my hips to pull me down.
I turn, confused for a moment, but he tugs my hand. “Lean back on me, thighs over mine.”
Lowering myself into his lap, I straddle him, facing out. The thick heat of his cock presses up between my folds. How can he already be hard for me again?
This is madness.
He slides into me with no resistance, his hands resting on my hips, holding me in place. Neither of us have any energy left so he doesn’t fuck me. Or even move. We sit joined, my back against his chest, his cock buried inside me, water cascading over our skin in soft, steady sheets.
“Do you realize how perfectly we fit?” His lips brush my ear.
“Yes,” I breathe. “You fill me perfectly.”
His teeth graze my earlobe, and I shudder.
Then his right hand slides up, cupping one breast, fingers slick with soap. He rubs his thumb over my nipple, until it peaks under his touch. His left hand drops lower, between my legs, and he circles my clit with the gentlest pressure.
Not rushed. Not demanding.
“Santiago…” I gasp. I’m so raw I can’t help but squirm.
“I want you to come again.” His velvety voice cloaks me. “Let go entirely. It will find you. Give in to the sensations. Stay out of your head.”
His words wrap around me like a spell.
He pinches my nipple gently, circles my clit. His cock roots me to him. In this position, the stretch, the pressure along my front wall is perfect. Grounding.
I clench him tightly and let go. Repeat. Lie back and allow my subtle movement to align with my breath.
“Yes, Rosa. Release for me.”
There’s no thrusting. No pounding. His fingers tease and coax my clit and nipple while I clench.
Like wildfire, it whooshes through me. An electric sensation from my toes up through my core. I come with a shattered gasp, breath torn from me like silk through fingers.
Santiago’s arms remain banded around me. Fingers on my clit. Light pinches to my nipples. His mouth pressing kisses along my neck as I shake and shudder. This intensifies the situation as aftershock after aftershock rolls through me. I sob softly, unable to hold it in.
When the spasms finally recede a bit, I slump back, every part of me trembling. He kisses my shoulder, my neck, my jaw and then lips as his hands run up and down my soaked skin.
“Rosa,” he whispers. “See? You were made for this. For me.”
His sentiment isn’t sweet. Or even romantic. It’s the truth. It’s like I’m reborn. His cock filling me. My body fluttering around him. Every nerve ending alive and rewired. Muscles sore in the best way.
My heart is cracked wide open. Santiago lives inside me. With me. Literally and figuratively.
The man was put on this planet to show me I was never meant to go without this.
I never will again.