Total pages in book: 115
Estimated words: 110351 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 552(@200wpm)___ 441(@250wpm)___ 368(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 110351 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 552(@200wpm)___ 441(@250wpm)___ 368(@300wpm)
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.