Chapter Nineteen
T he following weeks fly by in a blur of work, laughter, and stolen moments with Santi.
Between my lessons and his rigorous training schedule, we’ve carved out pockets of time that feel like they belong to us alone - dinners at charming restaurants, long walks through the city and quiet nights spent talking until the early hours.
Thankfully, we haven’t had any further near-misses. It probably helps that I’ve stayed far away from his stadium. He’s been promising for days to take me to a private beach, though - one of his favorite spots just outside of the city - and tonight, he’s finally made good on that promise.
The salty tang of the ocean carries on the late evening breeze as Santi parks his car near the secluded stretch of beach. The soft crash of waves is already audible, mingling with the distant hum of crickets in the cooling night air.
We’d eaten dinner in one of the city’s fancier restaurants, the kind with crystal chandeliers and waiters in tailored suits. The atmosphere had been a sharp contrast to the quaint establishments we’d been frequenting; all elegant, polished, and undeniably upscale, and for the first time, I felt the weight of how different Santi’s life is from mine.
It’s not just his fame or the luxuries that come with it. It’s the way he seems at home in these spaces that feel so foreign to me.
And yet, despite the grand setting, he’d kept the night so… well, normal . He’d teased me about my fumbled attempts at conversing fluently with him in Spanish, leaned closer to whisper crude jokes and listened intently when I told him more about my students and the exam prep we’d been doing.
(Although I absolutely did not mention the hero task, and how he’d been the topic of conversation).
As we step onto the cool sand, one of his large hands finds mine, and I instinctively smile at his touch.
The sky is painted in deep shades of navy and indigo, the stars glittering above like tiny diamonds scattered across velvet as we make our way onto the beach.
“You weren’t kidding about it being quiet,” I say, my sandals sinking into the soft sand as I follow him toward the water.
He glances back at me, his expression warm under the faint glow of the moon.
“Told you. Best spot in the whole city. It’s just us and the stars.”
It isn’t just us, though. Santi has come prepared, carrying a blanket slung over one arm and a small cooler in the other.
“What’s in there?”
“You’ll see,” he says, leading the way to a spot near the water where the waves lap gently at the shore.
I watch as he spreads out the blanket, patting a spot next to him.
“Sit,” he tells me, his voice softer now.
I hesitate for a second before I settle down next to him, tucking my legs beneath me. Santi opens the cooler and pulls out a bottle of expensive-looking wine and two plastic cups.
“Not the most glamorous, but it does the job,” he says.
“I thought you’re not supposed to…” I trail off, tilting my head as I watch him pour the wine.
“I can have one glass on a special occasion,” he says. “I’m not making a habit of it, don’t worry.”
“A special occasion?” I repeat, my brows furrowing.
My voice is quiet, and he doesn’t respond. I assume he doesn’t hear me, and I clear my throat as I glance out at the horizon where the moon casts a silver path across the water.
“It’s beautiful,” I whisper.
“It is,” he agrees.
But when I look back, he’s not looking at the water.
He’s looking at me.
The intensity in his gaze makes my breath catch, and I quickly turn back to the ocean, trying to collect myself.
“So,” I say, forcing a casual tone, “do you bring all your dates here?”
Fuck. Why did I just say that?!
Santi chuckles, the sound warm and unbothered. “No,” he counters. “Just the ones who accuse me of being mysterious and hard to figure out.”
I raise a brow, turning to face him. “Oh, so this is supposed to give me some kind of further insight into you?” I tease, lifting my cup to take a sip.
“Maybe,” he says, his tone light but edged with something more serious. “Or maybe I just wanted to share this beautiful place with you. ”
I lean back on my hands, listening to the rhythmic sound of the waves and feeling the coolness of the sand seeping through the blanket beneath us. Santi shifts closer, his tanned, muscular arm brushing against mine.
“You’re quiet tonight,” he says, his voice gentle as he turns to me. “What’s going on in that head of yours?”
I hesitate, swirling the wine in my cup.
“I’m just... thinking.”
“About?”
“About how easy this feels,” I admit. “And how that scares me.”
His expression softens. He reaches out, tucking a loose strand of hair behind my ear.
The gesture is so tender, so unexpected, and my breath catches in my throat.
“Good things are allowed to be easy,” he says, his tone steady as his green eyes search mine.
I blink, startled by the depth of his words. “You make it sound so simple.”
“It can be,” he says with a small smile. “If we let it.”
The warmth of his hand lingers near my face, and god do I want to believe him.
He leans in slightly, and my gaze flickers to his lips. I’m so sure that he’s going to kiss me -
Instead, he leans in closer and hesitates before our lips can touch.
His lovely green eyes search mine, and I swallow thickly under his gaze.
“You don’t have to be scared, Olivia. ”
The words hit me harder than I expect, and suddenly the tension shifts. It’s not broken, exactly; but it has softened.
Diffused, even.
“And, I want you to know that I mean it when I say you’re worth waiting for,” he says. “But honestly... I really hope I don’t have to wait too long.”
The admission catches me off guard. Before I can find a way to respond, he shifts again, lying back on the blanket with his arms folded behind his head.
“Now, are we going to talk all night, or are you going to help me find constellations?”
I roll my eyes, but I push back beside him all the same.
“You don’t actually know any constellations, do you?”
“Not a single one,” he admits. “But I’m excellent at making up stories about them.”
And he does. He weaves ridiculous tales about the stars above us, calling their names out in Spanish, and I feel a strange sense of peace settle over me.
Just as I begin to relax, he turns to face me again, propping himself up on one elbow. I arch a brow as I blink up at his handsome face.
“I’ve been thinking,” he says.
His shift in tone catches my attention. “Oh?” I say. “About what?”
“I don’t know if I’ve made it clear enough, but I admire you so much, Olivia. You’re brave, and smart, and stubborn -”
“Hey!” I cut in playfully.
“And you make me want to be better,” he continues, grinning at my interruption. “I don’t want it to sound like one of these lines you like to tell me I use, because I mean it when I say that I have never felt like this before. Honestly. Being with you, it’s not just easy. It’s... right . Like it’s the way things are supposed to be.”
My chest tightens, his words settling into places I didn’t realise were empty.
“I don’t want to just see where this goes anymore,” he says. “I want us to be something. Officially . So, Olivia Bennett, I was wondering. Will you be my girlfriend?”
For a moment, I can’t speak. All I can do is look at him.
And then I nod rapidly.
“Yes,” I whisper, a smile breaking across my face. “Yes, I - of course I will.”
He leans down to press a firm kiss to my lips.
Beneath me, the coarse texture of the sand presses against my hands as I brace myself, and one of Santi’s hands moves to cup my face, his thumb brushing tenderly over the swell of my cheek. His other hand finds purchase on my waist, and I use my grip on his shirt to pull him closer until there’s barely an inch of space between our bodies.
I can feel the strength of him - his chest solid against mine, his fingers pressing into my side - as if he’s afraid I might slip away.
Not likely.
My hands move on autopilot up to his broad shoulders before my fingertips graze the back of his neck. Our kiss deepens, his lips moving against mine with a heady mix of urgency and restraint, and I can tell that he’s holding himself back from giving in completely.
It’s not rushed, though. It’s deliberate, each movement measured as though he’s savouring every second .
Santi’s teeth catch my bottom lip in a sharp nip that sends a jolt of electricity through me, and I can’t hold back from gasping as the sensation goes right to my core.
The sound seems to undo something in him.
He leans further into me, and my legs part instinctively around him as his weight shifts until his jean-covered cock presses right against my panties.
The sand shifts beneath us as we move - the blanket no longer neatly laid out, but a crinkling mess under our bodies - and the tiny grains clinging to my legs and arms, a reminder of where we are: out in the open, under the wide expanse of stars.
But even that doesn’t feel real. The only thing that matters to me right here, right now, is him.
“Olivia,” he murmurs, my name a reverent whisper on his lips.
I open my eyes slowly, meeting his gaze. The intensity in those green depths makes my breath catch all over again.
I swallow hard. “This feels...”
“Perfect,” he finishes for me, and his lips brush over mine in the softest kiss yet.
I nod, unable to speak, and he smiles - a small, private smile that makes my heart twist.
Our kisses continue innocently enough for some time, though as always, they begin to significantly heat up.
“I’m not…” I whisper, though it’s difficult to speak when his lips are chasing mine. “Mmm. I’m not sure we should… do anything. You know. Here. ”
Jeez - it’s like the locker room all over again.
Despite my words, I find my head tilting to the side, lengthening my neck as he gives up on my lips and instead places hot, wet kisses down the column of my throat .
“There’s nobody around,” he reminds me, his stubble brushing deliciously against my sensitive skin.
At the same time, his large hand moves up from my waist and brushes over the outline of my breast, his fingers teasing my nipple through the thin material of my dress given that I’m not wearing a bra.
“It’s just us.”
His thick fingers trail agonisingly slowly towards my thighs, leaving a path of fire in their wake. My legs are still very much widely parted to accommodate his size between them, and Santi doesn’t so much as hesitate as he begins to tease me through the fabric of my panties.
“Just us,” I repeat, my voice trembling a little.
“Mmhm,” he confirms. “Which means you can be as loud as you want.”
My eyes practically roll back in my head at the sensation of him brushing his fingers over my panties with added pressure, and I squeeze them tightly to a close so as not to embarrass myself. My breathing falters, and although I’m almost convinced, there’s a part of me - the rule-abiding, sensible, teacher part of me - that just isn’t so sure we should be doing this here.
“I don’t know, Santi, I… we probably shouldn’t.”
My protest is weak, and I know that he knows full well just how little I mean those words, especially given that this isn’t our first rodeo being somewhere that we shouldn’t.
His fingers finally move to brush my panties over to one side, though his broad, muscular body manages to mostly protect me from the cool sea breeze.
I let out a sigh as he teases me with a feather-light touch.
“It’s just us,” he repeats his earlier words -
And when the pads of his fingers find my clit, all thoughts of protest disappear.
He rubs slow, steady circles over my sensitive flesh, and my legs fall open impossibly wider as I melt beneath his expert touch. With Santi seeming to instinctively know exactly what I need combined with the thrilling thought that we really shouldn’t be doing this here, I feel myself growing wetter by the second.
“Do you want me to stop?” he asks, his voice low and teasing, and his fingers come to a halt just as my breathing hitches.
I groan in frustration, my head tipping back against the blanket beneath me. The grains of sand shift under my body, cool against my heated skin, a stark contrast to the warmth radiating from where his touch lingers.
Fucking tease.
I open my eyes to the sky above. It’s a breathtaking canvas of glittering stars, but I can’t focus on their beauty. Not with Santi hovering over me and looking at me like that - eyes dark, lips curved in that infuriatingly smug smile, as if he knows exactly how much he’s driving me to the brink.
I blink up at the night for a moment, trying to ground myself. The salty tang of the ocean air does nothing to soothe the tension thrumming through me.
“No,” I finally manage to say through gritted teeth, narrowing my eyes at him as his smile deepens. “Don’t you dare.”
His laughter is soft and rich, a low rumble that makes my stomach flip. “I wouldn’t dream of it,” he murmurs, leaning down until his mouth is just a breath away from mine.
But he doesn’t kiss me. Not yet.
Instead, he hovers there, so close that I can feel the heat of him, his lips ghosting over mine in a maddeningly light tease .
My hands find their way to his shoulders, gripping the firm muscles beneath his shirt, desperate for something solid to hold on to.
“Santi,” I warn, my voice a mix of exasperation and need.
“Patience, mi cielo,” he whispers, his breath warm against my cheek. “Good things come to those who wait.”
I’m about to argue that patience is not something I possess at this moment when he finally closes the distance. His lips capture mine in a kiss that’s slow and deliberately heated.
The hand that isn’t settled between my legs slides up to cup the side of my face, and his thumb brushes against my cheek in a gesture so tender it steals what little breath I have left. Every inch of me feels alive, buzzing with a need I didn’t know I was capable of feeling.
“You’re sure you don’t want me to stop?” he asks, his voice low and teasing, though there’s an edge of seriousness to it now, like he’s giving me the chance to call the shots.
My answer is immediate, my voice steady despite the tremor running through me. “Not even a little.”
And this time, he doesn’t make me wait.
His fingers return to my clit, and my back arches in pleasure at the much firmer pressure of his touch. With my hips canting forwards as he draws tight, harsh circles over my sensitive flesh, my body instinctively grinds against his fingers in search for more friction.
Much to my surprise, the last thing I’m concerned about right now is sand. All I can think about is this: how good it feels to be touched by Santi, and how close I am to reaching my orgasm.
“Oh, fuck - don’t stop,” I pant, not caring how desperate I sound .
He listens intently and does exactly as I request, his steady rhythm not faltering even by a beat despite the involuntary jerks and thrusts of my hips. My arousal practically drenches his fingers and serves as a lubricant as he pinches lightly at my clit.
“That’s right, baby,” Santi breathes, his accent thick and audible over my squeal of pleasure. “Give me all that you’ve got. I want you to come just like this. Want to see that pretty pussy soaked just from my fingers.”
“Santi, please ,” I cry, my eyes squeezing impossibly tighter. “I need more. I need - I need -”
Shit. I don’t even know what I need, and now I’m babbling incoherently as the muscles of my thighs and abdomen repeatedly clench tightly and then release.
I’m so close, feeling as though I’m teetering on the precipice of something wonderful -
“Come on, Olivia,” Santi encourages. “I need to feel you. Give it to me. Now. ”
He swirls the pads of his fingers repeatedly over my clit at rapid pace, and I begin to see stars against the backs of my eyelids. I’m far past the point of being able to quieten myself or focus on the sounds that are falling from my lips, and I cry loudly into the night as pleasure consumes me.
Santi continues to murmur words of encouragement, and my heart races as his fingers continue their work, the slick, wet sound of my arousal filling the air -
And then he squeezes my clit tightly between two of his fingers, and I’m pushed over the edge with a stuttered gasp.
Burning heat explodes through me, my toes curling against the sand as my body jolts uncontrollably. I shake my head from side to side as my breath comes out in heavy, laboured pants, truly exhausted from the build-up to my pleasure .
My clit pulsates in time with my heartbeat, and my mouth is completely dry.
“Look at you, sweetheart,” Santi says when I finally open my eyes. I feel utterly delirious as I smile up at him. “You’re so beautiful.”
Despite the fact that I couldn’t even tell you what day of the week it is, I hum happily at his words of praise.
“My beautiful girl,” he continues, and I hum happily as he moves to kiss me.
I’ve been far too lost in my own pleasure to have noticed Santi removing his jeans and underwear, but the feel of the head of his cock nudging against my entrance is a welcome sensation indeed. It awakens something within me, and I grin against his lips as I push him backwards.
Santi looks at me in confusion, and I nudge his chest a little firmer this time.
“Sit back,” I tell him, though he’s completely stoic. “Santi,” I say, laughter in my voice. “Sit back. I want to - I want to be on top.”
“You want to ride me here ?” he questions, arching a dark brow at my admission.
Still, as he speaks, he moves. I watch as Santi carefully lowers himself against what remains of the significantly mussed-up blanket and sand, and I bite down on my lower lip at the sight of him wearing only a shirt.
“You don’t care if anyone sees us?” he presses.
Despite what happened in the locker room, this sort of thing is not at all like me. Most of my confidence this evening comes from the knowledge that we’re tucked safely away in a very secluded, private area of beach so late at night.
I mean, we haven’t seen a single soul since we arrived some time ago, so what are the odds that anyone would actually stumble across us now?
Still, I have an inkling that the thrill of having sex out in the open is as exciting for him as it is for me, so I shrug my shoulders as I move to straddle his hips.
“I say let’s give them a show to remember.”
Santi practically growls at that, pawing at my waist with a tight grip. I let out a sharp noise of surprise at his sudden grasp, though it drifts into a moan as he pulls me flush against the hard, thick outline of his cock.
There’s no more time for teasing - not when I’m so wet and ready for him - and I keep my eyes locked firmly onto his as I line the head of his cock against my slick folds.
Though all of my instincts have me wanting to squeeze my eyes to a tight close, I push through the feeling and keep our gaze locked intently as I sink down ever so slowly onto his cock.
“Holy… Olivia,” Santi breathes, his green eyes greedily drinking in the sight of me lowering myself further and further onto his length. “ Fuck, baby.”
Once he is buried to the hilt inside of me, I give myself a moment to adjust. I’m still getting used to the stinging sensation of him spreading my folds despite the lubrication my arousal has provided.
It feels good, though - like a pleasurable pinch - and the new position has me feeling full of him in every which way.
After a moment, I let out a sharp breath and brace myself against his broad, muscular shoulders. Santi’s hands come to rest on either side of my waist, and he bunches up the fabric of my dress, effectively giving him a clear view of where we are joined together.
My cheeks flush crimson at the thought.
Pushing through that, I slowly lift my hips up, then down, up, then down, repeating the motion over and over again. I keep a steady pace as I slide along his cock, dragging out the delicious friction of him pushing in and out.
It feels borderline ridiculous to be working myself up to an orgasm again, but I’m confident that Santi will happily allow me to take all of the pleasure I can from him.
“Look at you, riding me,” Santi hisses. “Your perfect little pussy is so fucking wet. You’re glistening, Olivia - you know that? God, I’m so…”
He trails off, and my fingers lightly squeeze at the tense muscles of his upper shoulders. “I’ve been thinking about this all night,” I confess, my voice low.
“You have?” he asks, groaning as I bounce a little more rhythmically on his cock.
“Mmhm. Been thinking about how much I want you inside of me. How much… how much I wanted to ride you, just like this.”
“Oh yeah?” Santi says, his lips curving up in a smirk even as his breaths come out in ragged pants. “Well, I’ve been thinking about you non-stop since last week. Touched myself every night just thinking of how good it felt to fuck you.”
The thought of him thinking of me, never mind touching himself because of me spurs me on impossibly more. My walls flutter around his thick length as I pick up the pace, my eyes squeezing tightly to a close as heat floods through me.
“Santi - I - my god. That’s so fucking hot,” I tell him. “I love it. Love the thought of you touching yourself… for me.”
“Of course,” Santi pants. I begin to chase my orgasm in full swing now; no longer lifting myself up and down but rather moving back and forth in his lap, grinding my clit firmly down against his muscular physique with each roll of my hips. “I’ve done nothing but touch myself and think about you since the moment we met. ”
“Oh, fuck, ” I cry out, my head falling against his shoulder with a soft thud as I roll my hips faster and faster against his pelvis.
The feel of his thick cock filling me while my clit grinds against his body is almost too much, and my thighs tremble as familiar sparks of heat fly through me once more.
For the second time this evening, I’m on the brink of an orgasm - and on a beach, of all places.
“Santi, I’m - close,” I tell him.
My jaw stutters as he angles his hips slightly, causing his cock to hit a deeper spot inside me that has me seeing stars.
“That’s it, baby,” he says in encouragement, using his grip on my hips to accentuate my movements. “Give me everything you’ve got. Want to feel you come for me, Olivia.”
I rock impossibly faster against him, and as he digs his heels into the sand, lifts his muscular thighs and begins to thrust in time with my rhythm, I tumble over the edge.
I practically shatter around him, clinging tightly to the material of his shirt in an attempt to ground myself as blinding heat fires through my entire body from head to toe.
As I ride out the waves of my orgasm, Santi continues to pound himself into me, his grip on my hips tight in order to keep me from falling as his hips snap upwards. It’s a testament to his excellent fitness, but I can barely appreciate any of it given that I’m practically floating from my second orgasm.
“You feel so good, baby - ah. So. Fucking. Good.”
Each word is punctuated with a harsh thrust of his hips, and finally, Santi empties himself deep inside me.
We sigh in unison as his throbbing cock releases his pleasure, and I keep our bodies connected as I fall against his broad, firm chest.
Santi releases his tight grip on my hips, and for a brief, fleeting moment, I feel a rush of emptiness as he pulls away just enough. But then his arms slide around my shoulders, pulling me down with him, and a small, satisfied sound escapes my lips as he falls back against the sand.
The sound of the ocean fades into a soft, rhythmic hum in my ears as I settle against him.
The sand is cool beneath us, but his body is warm and solid as it presses against mine. His hands trace slow, deliberate movements along my back, and I sink into him fully.
Time doesn’t seem to matter here. It’s just this perfect moment, suspended between the dark sky and the endless ocean.
Eventually, I raise my head slightly, my lips grazing his jaw before I look down at him. His eyes are closed, his face relaxed in a way that makes my heart flutter.
There’s something so real about him, something that feels raw and genuine, and for the first time in a long time, I wonder if I might be ready to let myself fall completely.
“You okay?” he asks.
I smile as I look into his now-open eyes. “Yeah,” I breathe, my voice quiet but certain. “More than okay.”
He chuckles, his thumb tracing over the curve of my shoulder.
I feel it again: that familiar pull to him. Like an invisible thread drawing me closer.
He shifts, pulling me in impossibly tighter, and I come to rest against his chest once more. The sound of his steady heartbeat is both comforting and relaxing, and my fingers dance over his shirt, wishing the night was warm enough that we didn’t need to wear clothes.
“You’re incredible, Olivia,” he murmurs, his words like a caress against the quiet air.
I smile into the darkness, my fingers curling into his shirt as I settle in. "So are you."
Tonight, I don't want to think. I don’t want to overanalyse. All I want is this moment with him - my boyfriend - on this beautiful beach under the Spanish sky.
As though he can read my mind, one of Santi’s large hands moves to cup my face, and he gently maneuvers my chin upwards so that he can kiss me for what has to be at least the hundredth time this evening.
This time, our kiss is slow and deep.
We stay there for a good while longer, the pair of us half-dressed and tangled up in each other on the beach. The stars above us continue to shimmer, silent witnesses to our embrace, and when we finally part, I feel lighter than I have in months.