Chapter Thirty-Nine
M y eyes flutter open slowly, and the unfamiliarity of the space makes me blink in confusion.
I’m lying on a large, comfortable bed, the sheets cool against my skin. There’s a window open, and the incoming draft of air smells faintly of lavender. Somewhere in the distance, I can hear the faint sound of waves crashing and gulls squawking above.
I sit up with a start, not recognising any of my surroundings. I try to recall the events of last night, but I draw a blank after falling asleep on the journey.
It dawns on me then. Santi . He must have carried me in from his car.
I look around, the room coming into sharper focus. It's warm and inviting with light streaming in from an outside balcony. It’s furnished in a way that is traditionally Spanish, with a comfortable looking armchair in one corner, a dark oak dressing table perched by the bed and a small side table with a pitcher of water and two glasses.
But no sign of Santi.
I rub my eyes, trying to shake off the remnants of sleep. I didn’t mean to fall asleep for so long - it was just supposed to be a quick power-nap. It must’ve been a combination of the easy, peaceful drive, the exhaustion from the last few weeks and the calming atmosphere of the towns we passed through. The moment I closed my eyes, it all caught up to me.
I slide out of the bed and step over to the balcony doors, pulling them open to let the morning air wash over me.
The view from outside is incredible. Blue skies stretch endlessly to the sea that doesn’t look too far. The water appears calm, reflecting the first light of day.
After spending a few minutes basking in the warmth of the rising sun, I turn to look back at the room, wondering where Santi could be. I pad back inside and am just about to sit back down on the bed when I hear the soft creak of the door behind me.
There he is, standing in the doorway with a warm, familiar smile playing at the corner of his lips.
“Good morning,” he says.
His voice is low and gentle, as though he’s trying not to disturb the calm of the moment.
“Morning,” I reply, feeling a little disoriented but mostly at peace. “How long have I been asleep?”
He shrugs casually as he walks into the room, his presence filling it completely. “It doesn’t matter. You clearly needed the rest.”
I laugh softly, a little embarrassed. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to fall asleep on you.”
“No need to apologise. You’ve been working hard. I’m just glad you could get some sleep.”
I raise an eyebrow. “How did I get in here, though? Did you… carry me in, or something?”
He laughs, a sheepish sound as he rubs the back of his neck .
“Maybe. I mean, I had to make sure you got to bed somehow, right? And you looked far too peaceful to wake up.”
“You’re unbelievable,” I say, my voice teasing but full of affection.
“I try,” he responds with a wink, walking over to the table and pouring out two glasses of water. He hands me one before sitting down beside me. “I hope you’re comfortable. I wanted this to be a nice, relaxing weekend for us.”
“It’s perfect,” I say softly. “I don’t even know where we are, but I already can’t remember the last time I felt this relaxed.”
Santi watches me for a moment, his green eyes softening.
“Good. That’s the point. I know things have been hectic, and I just want us to have time to breathe, to enjoy each other without all the noise.”
I can’t help but smile at how considerate he is. The way he’s thought of everything and knowing that he’s planned this for me - for us… well. It’s one of the reasons I fell for him in the first place, and why my feelings for him only grow stronger by the day.
“I really appreciate this, Santi,” I say, my voice filled with sincerity. “I’ve been running at full speed for so long, I didn’t even realise how much I needed something like this.”
“I know,” he replies, his voice low, almost in a whisper. “That’s why I wanted to make sure you had it.”
There’s a pause, the silence hanging between us in a way that feels intimate and comfortable. I’m about to say something else when his phone buzzes on the table, breaking the moment. He glances at it briefly before muttering a curse under his breath.
“Work?” I ask, sensing his frustration .
“Just some transfer stuff,” he says, grabbing the phone and glancing at the message. He sets it back down with a grimace. “I didn’t want to ruin this for us. But... there’s always something, isn’t there?”
I lean in, placing a hand on his strong arm in an attempt to offer him some comfort.
“Hey, you don’t have to explain. I get it. I know you’re always juggling a million things.”
He gives me a soft smile, but I can tell there’s a bit of tension still in his body.
“I just don’t want to waste this time with you. We’ve barely had any time just for us lately.”
“I understand,” I say, nodding. “We’ll make the most of it. Just because there’s a little work doesn’t mean we can’t have fun, right?”
He smiles, his eyes twinkling. “You’re right. And I’m not going to let anything ruin this weekend. It’s all about us.”
Santi’s voice is thick with promise, his green eyes darkening as he inches closer towards me. My pulse quickens at the sudden shift in the atmosphere, anticipation crackling between us like static electricity.
“Well, now that I’m awake and not drooling in the car, I’m all yours,” I say.
Santi inches closer and closer until we are so close that our breath intertwines. He doesn’t rush, though. He never does. Instead, he takes his time, drawing out the moment and letting the weight of his previous words settle over me.
He doesn’t kiss me. Not yet.
“Tell me,” I murmur, my lips grazing his as I speak. “What exactly does this weekend involve? ”
His mouth curves into a slow, knowing smirk as his fingers trail along my arm, featherlight, leaving a trail of heat in their wake.
The tension in the air between us thickens, the world outside this room fading into nothing. I barely register the sound of the distant ocean waves outside the window or the warm breeze slipping through the open balcony doors. All I can focus on is him: the way his breath fans across my lips, the way his strong, muscular body hovers over mine and the way his large hands are already setting fire to my skin without even touching me properly yet.
His presence is overwhelming, and I lower my body down onto the bed until I’m lay on my back with my head tilted against the pillows, my heartbeat hammering against my ribs. He follows me with ease, his hips pressing lightly over mine as his hands come to rest on either side of my head.
“You’re such a tease,” I tell him, my voice low and quiet.
His deep chuckle vibrates against my skin as he kisses the corner of my mouth, his nose brushing against mine.
“You love it.”
I do.
I love the way he takes his time, the way he makes me feel like I’m the only person in the world.
I love the way he watches me as if he’s trying to memorise every single reaction my body gives to his ministrations.
And I love that no matter how many times we do this, no matter how familiar we become with each other’s bodies, he never stops making it feel new.
Santi moves lower, pressing soft kisses along my jaw and down the slope of my neck. His lips linger at the sensitive spot just below my ear, and I shiver.
He notices, of course. He always does.
“Hmm,” he muses against my skin, his stubble tickling the exposed flesh. “I like that.”
I don’t get a chance to respond because his lips are back on mine, deeper this time, more insistent. One of his hands finally moves away from where it was propping him up above my head, sliding down my side and over the curve of my waist and then pulling me closer so that our bodies align.
I sigh into his mouth, my own hands lifting and threading through his thick, dark hair, tugging slightly at the wavy strands just the way I know he likes.
His answering groan is low and rough, vibrating through both of us.
He lifts his head just slightly, his forehead pressed against mine, his breathing uneven.
“I meant it,” he murmurs. “This weekend is ours. No interruptions. No distractions.”
I nod, my fingers tracing the sharp line of his jaw. “Just us.”
He hums in agreement, his lips brushing against mine once more before he shifts slightly, his weight settling against me in a way that makes my breath hitch. I can feel the hard, thick length of him pressing into my thigh, and my legs spread further to better accommodate his hips between mine.
“Now,” he says, his voice laced with mischief, “let’s get started, shall we?”
As he kisses me again, everything else ceases to exist. His lips move against mine with slow, deliberate precision, as if he has all the time in the world to unravel me and intends to use it.
His grip on my hip anchors me beneath him, and combined with the weight of his body and the heat of his skin… it’s all so intoxicating.
I arch into him instinctively, chasing the warmth he offers. He moans against my mouth, deep and low, and the sound ignites something desperate inside me.
“Santi,” I whisper, his name slipping past my lips in a wanton plea before I can stop it.
I buck my hips against his, searching for the delicious friction only he can bring.
He groans again as he leans himself further forwards, effectively pressing his body further into mine in a way that sends heat rushing through my veins. His large hand wanders from my waist and slides along my thigh, his touch deliberate and controlled, but I can sense the tension thrumming through him, can feel the restraint he’s holding onto by a thread.
“You drive me crazy, you know that?” he asks.
His voice is rough, his forehead pressing against mine as his breathing grows heavier.
I smirk, letting my fingers wander from his hair under his shirt so that I can trace the defined lines of his back, feeling the way his muscles tighten under my touch.
“ Good .”
His answering chuckle is dark, filled with something that makes my stomach flip.
“Oh, listen to you now. You think you’re in charge here?”
Before I can respond, he moves forwards again, his mouth dragging a slow, agonising path down my throat. He nips lightly at the sensitive skin just beneath my jaw and I gasp loudly, my fingers tightening against his back as he lingers there; teasing, tasting.
His lips move back up to mine, claiming, possessive. He kisses me like he’s trying to mark the moment, to brand it into my skin, and I match his urgency, my own need coiling tighter with every passing second.
We make quick work of shedding our clothes between hot, wet kisses. I roll over as Santi pulls off my shirt, only I completely over-estimate the amount of space that we have in the bed and end up halfway off the mattress. Santi catches me, of course, and I let out a laugh as I grab tightly onto his biceps -
And the pair of us end up down on the floor anyway.
Not that I mind, of course. Not even with the dark oak floor being so cold and hard against my naked back.
No, I can’t bring myself to care about anything other than the feel of Santi’s hot mouth pressing against my own right now.
I sigh as his large palms wander from around my waist to squeeze at the flesh of my ass, and I moan in approval as he digs his blunt nails deep into my cheeks and uses his firm grip to tug me flush against the hard length of his bare cock.
It isn’t always like this with him, and I very much enjoy having sex with Santi when he’s gentle, too; when he caresses me and moves himself softly against me, when he takes his time with me and drags out each thrust of his hips so that it’s all slow and sensual and full of care.
But my god, I love it when he’s rough with me. When he becomes like this: as though a switch has been flipped within him and something completely primal takes over.
It’s almost as if I’m looking right at the man who I see charging around and dominating the field, and the sight of that wild glint in his stunning green eyes sends a thrill through me like nothing else ever has .
Pinned beneath his muscular arms on the floor of the bedroom, Santi aligns my body against his so that he’s positioned perfectly between my slick folds. My eyes flutter to a close at the sensation of the head of his cock brushing against my clit, and he hisses as he grinds his hips against me, the sound low in the quiet of the room as he firmly slides his cock against the outline of my wet heat with ease.
“Santi, please,” I beg.
“I want to taste you,” he pants sounding somewhat pained. “I need to.”
I barely have the chance to process his heated statement when Santi dips his head to my chest and flicks his tongue over one of my nipples.
The sudden pleasurable sensation causes me to gasp in surprise, though my heart pounds relentlessly within my chest as he shimmies his way down my body.
It means that his cock is taken away from the place that I want him most, yet my thighs tremble with anticipation all the same.
Santi leaves behind a trail of wet kisses, darkened skin and nipped flesh from my breasts down to my pelvis; and I let out a long, loud moan as his hot breath fans over my exposed slit. His large hands snake around my waist, and he puts enough pressure on my body that when my hips instinctively buck upwards from his teasing, I can’t actually move anywhere.
“Do you want me to?” he asks, and I nod my head vigorously in confirmation, coherent thought evading me as he lets out another long breath - this time, directly over my swollen clit. “I can’t hear you.”
“Yes,” I answer, trying - and failing miserably - to writhe around beneath his strong grip .
He’s so close that I can’t help but try, for if he just eased his hold on my hips ever so slightly, then I’d be able to lift my ass into the air from the floor and finally connect his mouth with my dripping core.
Instead, Santi merely tuts as he nudges his nose against the inside of my thighs. A needy, frustrated whine escapes my throat at the realisation that he has moved his mouth away when he’d been so, so close to where I need him.
“You don’t sound like you mean it, Olivia,” he says, his voice calm, his voice monotonous - almost as though he’s bored . It’s infuriating. “Why don’t we try that again: do you want me to taste you?”
My clit practically pulses in excitement.
“Yes, Santi, please, ” I say “Oh, I want it - I want you to so, so badly; want to feel your tongue on me, need to have you now, I-”
I stop, then; the need to continue with my babbled pleas coming to an abrupt end as Santi obliges with my request.
I throw my head back against the floor as he uses the point of his tongue to lick over the entire length of my slit from bottom to top. His hands remain firmly on my hips to hold me easily in place as he repeats the motion over and over again, and I faintly hear the sound of him grumbling into my wet folds as I continue my attempts to buck against his mouth in search of more friction.
“Fuck, Olivia, stay still,” Santi says, and I let out a sharp breath as he sucks harshly on my clit to emphasise his words.
It’s instinctive, these attempts to move this way against him, but Santi wants me to keep still, and so I do my very best to fight the urge to buck my hips and shuffle my legs for as long and as hard as I possibly can. I try to distract myself instead, focusing on the feeling of warmth flooding through my thighs and down to my toes as his tongue swirls in small, tight circles over my sensitive, throbbing clit.
Even without the use of his fingers to penetrate me, I know that it won’t take long for Santi to pull me over the edge. He knows my body so well by now, and I squeeze my eyes tightly to a close as he works away at my wet core.
As much as I’m trying to keep the lower half of my body as still as possible to comply with his instructions, the rest of me is restless, and I’m desperate for something to ground me as he works me quickly up to a release, I need something to keep my body here on earth so that I don’t shatter into thin air; and so I snake my hands into his thick mop of dark hair and tug lightly on the strands, pulling his face tighter against my pussy.
He noses at my clit before sucking on it firmly in response to my movements, and I almost sob in relief as my orgasm pulses through me.
My chest heaves up and down dramatically while I ride out the waves of my release, and Santi removes his head from between my limp thighs and sits up on his knees before me. He releases his grip of my hips, and I watch through half-open lids as he lifts the backs of one of his hands up to his face and wipes away the remnants of my pleasure from his mouth and chin.
Fuck.
For half a beat, I think that Santi might have settled somewhat by having me come right against his mouth.
Yet, as I look up into his lust-blown green eyes, I can still make out that wild glint, and the thought of whatever it is that he’s going to do to me next has me biting down on my bottom lip.
His gaze follows the movement, and I listen to the sound of him heave out a long, low breath before he towers above me once more. He places his hands on either side of my head in order to support his weight and looks down at me for a moment.
For the first time in a long time, I see no softness in his gaze.
Still, there’s a part of me that knows that all I would need to do is summon him - nudge him away or shake my head or say no - and he’d return; my soft, gentle Santi, the man who loves me and cherishes me, the man who handles me with such care and tenderness.
But I don’t want that. Not right now. I want this part of him; I want the rough and the wild and the desperate, I want the unrivalled passion and the heated lust.
And more than anything, I want him to take me like this: spread out before him, pliant and willing, right here on the floor.
His eyes search mine, and for a moment, I wonder what he’s thinking. Whether he’ll break the silence, whether he’ll move at all.
And then he opens his mouth.
“I’m going to fuck you now.”
Before I can react, he thrusts his hips roughly against mine and buries his large, thick cock inside of me in one single, quick thrust. The combination of my arousal and his saliva serves as the perfect lubricant to ease his entry, and without warning, Santi allows his head to drop down to the column of my throat.
He lets out a low groan against my skin before he begins to pound into me with earnest, his thrusts clumsy and lacking any identifiable rhythm as he brutally fucks me against the hard surface.
My mouth falls open in pleasure, but no whimpers or moans escape my throat. Instead, I revel in the sound of his naked flesh smacking against my own with each sharp thrust of his hips.
My eyes had squeezed tightly to a close once again at some point, but they widen dramatically when Santi suddenly withdraws himself from deep inside me. I barely get the chance to whimper or really miss his cock, though; because before I know it, I’m being effortlessly flipped onto my side and then onto my stomach, presenting my ass up to him as my nipples brush against the cool floor.
Santi’s hands move to grip tightly to my ass cheeks once again, and he uses that grip on me to shift me quickly into the air. A surprised squeal escapes my lips, but I move compliantly and willingly onto my hands and knees before him, sighing in pleasure as he lines his thick cock against my entrance once more.
I’m caught off guard when he doesn’t plunge inside of me immediately, and I wait for a few seconds before I raise my head from the floor -
And my breath catches in my throat as my reflection peers back at me.
I had completely missed the mirror hanging on the wall next to the en-suite bathroom, and my cheeks flush with heat at the sight.
Santi’s green eyes meet with my own in the mirror, and I can’t help but appreciate how huge he looks behind me; this large man with his tanned skin and broad shoulders, taut biceps and defined abdomen.
Unfortunately, I can’t actually see his cock given that the tip of it is currently brushing against the entrance to my pussy, but I know that it’s a glorious sight to behold, too.
One of his hands remains tightly gripping my ass whilst the other begins to tickle its way up the length of my naked back, and I find myself shivering, almost cooing at the pleasurable feeling. His thick fingers find purchase in my long, blonde hair, and my eyelids flutter at the feel of him slowly but surely beginning to wrap the wavy strands around his broad wrist.
“What are you, Olivia?” he asks.
My eyes widen in surprise at his question, and I can’t help but look blankly at him in the mirror, uncertainty evident all over my features. He has never asked this question of me before, and in all honesty, I don’t actually know what he means, don’t really know where on earth he’s going with this, and -
Oh.
Oh. Of course.
I swallow thickly before I answer, speaking the words loud and clear, leaving no room for any doubt.
“I’m yours, Santi,” I say. “All yours.”
“ Fuck . That’s my good girl.”
He grins in approval, and then his cock is buried to the hilt of me once more.
This time, I do shriek as he fucks me from behind. I can’t help but gasp and pant as he pulls at my hair, using the strands wrapped around his wrist to control the movement of my head as he fucks into me with force. I fight the urge to close my eyes and instead keep them open as he tugs my hair back, and I don’t miss the way that the muscles of his tensed biceps flex as he pulls me further back towards him.
I cry out when the thick fingers which have been buried in my ass cheek move to snake under my waist so that they can pinch at my engorged clit, and my thighs tremble almost violently as Santi uses his grip on my hair to pull me further and further upright, until my back is positioned against his sweat-dampened chest .
The change in position leaves me on only my knees before him.
Since I’m no longer using my hands to support my weight on the floor, I wrap my slender fingers around one of his broad forearms and dig my nails into his flesh as his hips snap rapidly against mine.
I grin wickedly as he thrusts himself impossibly harder against me, his green eyes locked onto mine in the reflection as he brings his lips to my ear.
“You’re mine, Olivia,” he says as he continues to pound himself into me, his fingers still dancing over my swollen clit. It’s impossible to freely move my head due to the tight hold that he has on my hair, but I nod it as enthusiastically as I can. “You hear me? Mine. And I - shit, Liv, I’m close. I’m - I’ll -”
Despite my usual, natural shyness, something has possessed me, and I can’t seem to be able to pull my gaze away from his reflection. I lick my lips at the sight of his chiselled jaw clenching as he focuses on pounding into me, my mouth suddenly dry.
“God, Santi, yes, ” I say, a hint of euphoric laughter in my voice as his hips begin to stutter in their movement. “Come for me, please. I’m yours. I’m all yours, all yours -”
He pants loudly as he snaps his hips roughly against me, and I watch in delight as Santi’s resolve finally snaps.
He spills himself deep within my walls with a primal grunt as his thumb presses down firmly onto my swollen clit, and I can’t help but sigh in pleasure as I tipple over the precipice, too.
Each pulse of my walls warms me from the inside out, and my eyes finally flutter to a close as my abdomen clenches and unclenches as a blissful heat washes through my body.
I sag against his chest - exhausted, and well and truly spent - and Santi removes his sticky fingers from between my soaked folds so that he can use his forearm to support my weight and keep me upright against him.
We really are a sight to behold in the reflection; both of our bodies covered in sweat, my hair damp and his mussed, a delirious grin on my lips and a knowing smirk on his mouth.
Santi’s nose gently brushes against the column of my throat as he inhales deeply before he litters an array of kisses over my neck and shoulder. He holds me steady for a few more seconds, before he finally releases his hold on my body, removing his semi-hard cock from inside me.
The evidence of his release quickly follows and pools onto the floor beneath me, although Santi just laughs as I scrunch my nose at it.
He slumps back against the bed, and a small giggle escapes my lips as he reaches for my waist and tugs me into his lap. His arms wrap around me, holding me close, and I melt into him, my body still humming with warmth.
His fingers trace lazy circles over my back, his breathing slow and content, and for a long moment, we just exist like this—wrapped up in each other, the quiet aftershocks of passion still lingering between us.
He keeps his green eyes locked onto mine in the reflection of the mirror as he presses a chaste kiss to the underside of my jaw, his lips warm and soft against my skin. I sigh happily, letting my head rest against his shoulder, my fingers idly stroking over the ridges of muscle along his arm.
“I love you,” he breathes, nuzzling against my sweat-dampened skin. “You good?”
I laugh lightly at that, turning around in his arms so that I can look right at him rather than his reflection.
“Good?” I tease, raising my hands to the nape of his neck and tugging at the strands there. “I’m wonderful, Santi. I… I’m yours.”
His eyes darken slightly at my words, a slow, satisfied smile curving his lips as he leans in to steal another kiss. But just as his hands start to wander again, I wrinkle my nose and push lightly against his chest.
“ You , mi amor, need a shower,” I say, laughing as I run my fingers through his messy, sweat-damp hair. “Desperately.”
Santi groans, rolling onto his back and dragging me with him.
“Are you saying I stink?” he asks, mock-offended, though the glint in his eyes tells me he knows exactly what I mean.
I bite back another laugh. “I’m saying you smell like victory and sin, and while that’s a very appealing combination, I’d rather not sit in it.”
“Fine, fine,” Santi chuckles, squeezing my waist. “But only if you join me.”
I pretend to consider it for a moment. “I suppose I could make that sacrifice…”
His grin is pure mischief as he moves to stand.
“Oh, princesa, I promise you - it won’t feel like a sacrifice.”
“Oh yeah?” I respond, smiling as he extends a hand and helps me stand, too. “In that case - I’ll race you!”
“Hey!” Santi calls after me as I scramble out of the bedroom and down the hall towards the main bathroom.
There’s an en-suite in the room, but I have no doubt that the shower in the main bathroom will be larger and more accommodating for two bodies - especially when one of those is a professional rugby player - and I laugh in delight at the sound of him rushing to follow as I sprint along .
He manages to reach me quickly enough - just as I’m about to step underneath the hot spray of water - and I shriek loudly as Santi wraps his muscular arms around my waist and pulls me tightly against his damp chest.
“Caught you,” he breathes into my ear, and my giggle stop abruptly as my eyes widen in a mixture of surprise, delight and disbelief at the feel of him growing hard against my flesh.
Again?
Already?!