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)
“Santi!” I gasp, clutching his shoulders as he laughs heartily. It’s such a lovely sound.
“You looked too comfortable,” he says simply. “Thought I’d make things a little more interesting.”
I shake my head, though no matter how hard I try, I can’t shake the wide smile from my face.
“You’re impossible, you know that?”
“And yet, you don’t seem to mind,” he counters, carrying me with an ease that reminds me just how strong he is.
He moves through the apartment as if he’s been here a hundred times before, pausing at the doorway to my bedroom. It’s hardly surprising given that it’s such a small space - it’s not really as if there’s a possibility for him to get lost, or confused.
He pushes open the door, and the soft glow of the bedside lamp casts the room in a warm, inviting light.
I feel my cheeks flush as he steps inside, still holding me close.
“You can -” I start, but he silences me with a kiss, setting us gently on the bed.
He’s perched on the edge of it with me on his lap, my legs draped over his thighs and my hands still clinging tightly to his shoulders.
It’s impossible not to notice the way his body feels beneath my hands. Solid, strong, and defined in a way that makes my pulse quicken. My fingers brush against the firm planes of his upper arms, and I can’t help but marvel at the sheer strength he carries so effortlessly.
His chest rises and falls steadily, and as I shift slightly, I’m acutely aware of the toned muscles beneath his shirt, sculpted from relentless training and the physicality of the game. I’ve seen plenty of photos of him without a shirt on - thank you, internet - and for someone who has never paid much attention to rugby before, I suddenly appreciate the sport in an entirely new way.
He notices my lingering touch and leans back just enough to look at me, his eyes practically dancing with amusement.
“What?” he asks, a playful smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.
I shake my head, a blush creeping up my cheeks. “Nothing. Just... rugby might not be as boring as I thought.”
He laughs. The sound is low and rich.
“Good to know I’m changing your mind. Want me to give you a crash course on the game sometime?”
“Maybe,” I tease, running my hands along the hard lines of his shoulders. “But I think I’m enjoying this part more.”
“Fair enough,” he murmurs, his voice softening as he presses another kiss to my lips, the heat between us igniting again. He pulls back when I moan into his mouth, brushing a strand of hair from my face even as I move forwards to chase his lips. “I can stop if you want me to,” he says.
The sincerity in his tone sends a rush of warmth through me. I shake my head as I fist my hands into the collar of his shirt and use my grip to attempt to pull him closer towards me.
“I don’t want you to stop,” I whisper.
His arm slips around my shoulders to pull me closer, and as we resume our passionate kiss, I move to straddle his strong hips and muscular thighs. His hand traces slow, lazy circles on my back as our tongues dance, and I pull away for a moment to catch my breath, though I don’t go far.
“You’re full of surprises, Santi,” I murmur, my voice barely above a whisper.
“Good ones, I hope?” he asks, his voice equally low.
I nod, my fingers brushing against his jaw. “The best.”
He kisses me again, and this time it’s unhurried, like we have all the time in the world. His touch is gentle, reverent even.
But like everything with us, it begins to heat.
At some point, we shift positions so that I’m lying on my back with Santi hovering over me. My legs remain wrapped around his hips, and I gasp - then giggle lightly - as his lips move from mine and his teeth nip at the sensitive skin of my neck.
“Santi,” I hum, shuffling myself slightly on the bed beneath him, my body restless from the way he’s been teasing. ”Please.”
I watch through hooded lids as the muscular man above me rocks back on his knees, pulling his face away from the crook of my neck so that he can look me right in the eyes. His size is abundantly clear from this position, and as he slowly peels his shirt away and reveals the toned, tanned skin of his chest and abdomen, I feel my stomach clench.
He licks his lips, the sight causing me to whimper. “What do you want, Olivia?” he asks.
His voice thick with lust, and I arch my back beneath him, inadvertently lifting my hips in offering.
“You,” I respond without hesitation.
In a heartbeat, his lips are on mine once more.