Chapter 30 Santino #2
It’s raw, desperate, every ounce of need we’ve been holding back for weeks exploding in this moment.
Her tits bounce with every thrust, and I yank her dress down, freeing them so I can suck on her nipples, teasing them with my teeth until she’s whimpering, her pussy tightening around my cock.
Her hands grip my hair, pulling me closer, and I’m lost in her—the slick heat of her, the way she moans my name like it’s the only thing keeping her grounded.
“Harder,” she gasps, her voice breaking as she grinds down on me, taking me deeper. “Fuck me harder, Santino.”
“Anything you want,” I growl, my hands gripping her ass as I slam up into her, the rhythm fast and punishing. The car rocks with us, the windows fogging up, but I don’t care—nothing exists except her pussy milking my cock, her moans filling my ears, the way she’s falling apart for me.
I slide one hand between us, finding her clit and rubbing tight circles, and she cries out, her body trembling as she gets closer. “Come for me, Liana,” I rasp, my lips against her throat. “I wanna feel you come all over my cock.”
That pushes her over the edge. She screams my name, her pussy clenching so tight it drags me with her, and I come hard, spilling inside her with a groan that feels like it’s ripped from my soul.
We collapse together, panting, her body limp against mine, my cock still twitching inside her as we try to catch our breath.
Her head rests on my shoulder, her breath hot against my neck, and for a long moment, we just stay there, tangled in the front seat, the air thick with the scent of sex and sweat. My hands stroke her back, her hair, grounding myself in the feel of her as my heart pounds.
“Fuck, Liana,” I murmur, pressing a kiss to her temple, my voice hoarse. “I’m never letting you go, even if it kills me.”
She laughs, a soft, sated sound, and tilts her head to look at me, her eyes still hazy with pleasure but warm with love. “Good way to go, though, right?”
“The fucking best,” I say, brushing her hair back, my thumb tracing her swollen lips.
She laughs softly, the sound breathless and satisfied. "We steamed up the windows."
I look around and realize she's right—the windows are completely fogged over, obscuring the view in every direction.
I grin, wiping a streak through the condensation with my thumb. My cock’s still half-hard inside her, twitching with every clench of her pussy.
She shivers when I pull out, a soft whine escaping her lips. I tuck myself away, but the sight of her—dress pushed up, tits out, thighs spread and glistening—makes my dick throb again already.
"Your car is going to smell like sex," she points out with amusement in her voice.
"I don't care," I tell her honestly, because I don't care about anything except the woman in my arms. “I’m never cleaning it again if it smells like you.”
She turns her head to look at me, her eyes soft and happy in a way I've never seen before. "Hi," she says simply.
"Hi." I touch her face gently, looking into her eyes and seeing my entire future reflected there. "I love you."
The words come out before I can stop them, raw and honest and carrying everything I feel for this incredible woman.
She goes very still, her eyes widening. "What?"
"I love you, Liana." I cup her face in my hands, making sure she can see the truth in my eyes. "I'm completely in love with you."
Tears fill her eyes as she stares at me. "Santino—"
"I need you to know that," I continue, needing her to understand. "Before anything else. Before we talk about what happens next. I love you—not the alliance, not the business. You. The woman who drives me insane."
She laughs, and it’s half sob, half genuine joy. "I'm in love with you too," she says, her voice shaking with emotion. "I've been trying not to be, but I can't help it."
We stay like that for a while, wrapped around each other in the front seat of my car, and slowly, carefully, we start to talk about everything that matters.
“I talked to your father a few days ago.”
She draws back to look at me, surprised. “What did he say?”
"He made it very clear that if you ever married, it would be your choice and yours alone. No alliance, no contract."
"You were okay with that?" she asks, searching my face.
"More than okay," I tell her honestly. "I don't want your business, Liana. I never should have agreed to take it in the first place." I brush hair back from her face tenderly. "You should run the Costa family. You were born to do it."
"And the Marcello family business?" she asks carefully.
"I'll run mine, you'll run yours," I say, laying out the future I've envisioned. "We'll figure out how to work together as equals."
"Equals," she repeats, testing the word on her tongue. "I like that."
“Will you marry me?” I ask her.
“Marry you? Are you serious? Is this a proposal?”
“Yes, of course, I want to marry you, Liana,” I say with absolute certainty.
She blinks at me in astonishment. "You do?"
"Yes, if you'll have me." I brush hair back from her face again, needing to touch her.
"I know we should do this properly—date, take our time.
But I don't want to wait. I know what I want. I want you as my wife, my partner, my equal. I want to be your husband and your protector. I’ll ask you again.
Will you marry me? As soon as possible?"
“Let me think about this,” she says slowly, and I can see a smile starting to form on her lips. "Our mothers have already planned everything. The flowers, the dresses, the venue. It's all still ready and waiting."
"From the alliance wedding?" I ask, hope sparking in my chest.
"Yes. Mama kept everything, just in case." She laughs softly. "She had hope even when I didn't."
"We could get married soon," I say, the plan forming in my mind. "We wouldn't have to wait."
"Your Nonna is getting old," Liana says softly, her expression thoughtful. "She wants to see you married. Your mother told mine."
"Then let's not wait," I say with growing conviction. "Let's get married now. Make our families happy. Make ourselves happy."
She looks at me intently, searching my face for any doubt. "You're sure? You really want this?"
"I've never been more certain of anything in my life." I kiss her deeply, pouring everything I feel into it. "Will you marry me, Liana? I love you and I want to spend the rest of my life with you."
"Yes," she says, kissing me back hard. "Yes. Let's do it. Let's get married for real. And you're okay with me running my family business? Really okay with it? Not just saying you are?"
"I'm more than okay with it—I'm proud of you." I mean every word from the depths of my soul. "You're brilliant. Watching you work, seeing you in your element. You're incredible."
Tears shine in her eyes as she looks at me. "You really mean that."
"Every word," I confirm without hesitation.
She kisses me again, with a desperation that matches my own.
"I'm sorry," she says when we finally break apart. "For manipulating you. For playing games. For not trusting you enough to show you who I really was."
"You had every reason not to trust me," I remind her gently. "I was taking your birthright."
"Still, I should have been honest," she insists.
"And I should have asked, should have cared enough to look deeper." I touch her face reverently. "I'm sorry too. For not coming when you texted me. For waiting three hours before even checking on you. For failing to protect you when you needed me most. I’ll never forgive myself for that. Never."
"You eliminated the Benedettis," she points out.
"Only because I couldn't stand the thought of them still being out there, still being a threat to you." I hold her closer, needing her to understand. "I love you, Liana. And I'm going to spend the rest of my life making sure you know it."
"I’ll hold you to that," she says with a satisfied smile.
We sit there in the foggy car, wrapped around each other and content to exist in this perfect moment, but eventually reality intrudes.
"We should probably get dressed," I say reluctantly.
"Probably," she agrees, but neither of us moves immediately.
"Your father is going to kill me," I observe.
"My father gave you permission to pursue me," she reminds me with amusement. "This is pursuing."
"This is definitely more than pursuing," I say, and she laughs in response.
"He'll get over it," she assures me.
We finally get dressed, awkward in the cramped space of the front seat, laughing when we bump heads and when her elbow hits my ribs and when we can't find her other shoe. It's imperfect and messy and absolutely perfect.
When we're finally presentable, I adjust my seat back to the driving position while Liana fastens her seatbelt, her hair a mess and her dress rumpled, looking thoroughly satisfied.
I drive back toward the city, slower this time, taking the long way because I'm not ready for this night to end.
"Dinner tomorrow night at my place?" I ask, already planning our next date.
"Yes, where we can actually talk," she agrees.
"I'll pick you up at seven," I promise.
"Seven," she confirms, leaning against my shoulder comfortably. "And Santino?"
"Yes?" I glance over at her.
"Thank you. For the gifts, and for the framed lettuce photo."
I laugh at the memory. "You liked that?"
"I loved it," she says. "It was perfect."
"I have more ideas," I tell her, my mind already spinning with possibilities. "For dates, for surprises, for making you smile."
“Do you have a bed?” she asks. “A bed would make me smile.”
“I thought you liked making out in my car?”
“Oh, I do, but you’re not the only one with ideas,” she teases.
I pull up to the Costa estate, and I walk her to the door like a gentleman, even though we're both still rumpled from the car and anyone with eyes would know exactly what we've been doing.
"Goodnight, Liana," I say, not wanting to let her go.
"Goodnight, Santino." She kisses me, soft and sweet and full of promise. "I love you."
"I love you too," I tell her, meaning it with every fiber of my being.
She disappears inside the house, and I walk back to my car, getting in and sitting there for a moment in the darkness. I can't stop smiling as the reality of everything that just happened washes over me.
Liana Costa loves me, and I'm the luckiest bastard alive.