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)
“You ready for me, baby?” Santi asks.
He gently nips at my earlobe for good measure, and I can only nod my head up and down – my chin nudging against the skin of his broad, bare shoulder – since all coherent thought seems to have escaped me.
He chuckles as though he can read my mind before he enters me in one smooth motion, letting out a deep, guttural moan as his forehead drops against mine. My eyes widen at the intrusion, and I inhale a quick breath at the initial sting.
“Shit,” he hisses. It’s his eyes that squeeze to a close, now. “Olivia…”
It takes me a few seconds to adjust to his significant size. The feeling of his long, thick length stretching me has me wanting to crawl away and be pulled closer all at once.
I nuzzle my nose against his in a brief, soft sign of affection, and after a few beats of stillness, Santi pulls his hips back enough so that he almost leaves me empty before he pushes back inside once again.
I gasp against his mouth as he fills me completely.
“You feel so good, baby,” he murmurs. “So tight, so… So perfect.”
It’s a wonder how a man of his size and stature can be so careful and soft, so gentle and tender most of the time. Despite the strength that I know lives within his defined biceps and taught abdomen, despite the years of training and conditioning that has no doubt roughened him in many ways, Santi is so delicate in the way that he handles me.
And yet – and yet - as he fucks me now, it seems that he loses himself in the overwhelming pleasure of our union, and the lines begin to blur.
Buried so deeply inside of me, gentle is no longer a word I would use to describe him. It’s as if he’s reverting back to the wild, primal instincts that linger within him.
I love the way he nips at my exposed flesh, the way he snaps his hips harshly against mine and the way he digs his thick fingers into my waist and ass. He slams deeper and deeper with every thrust, and I grin in pleasure as he pounds roughly into me.
“Holy shit,” I hiss, a delirious little laugh escaping me.
I can’t believe how amazing it feels to be full of him, finally.
“Santi, you feel. So. Good.”
I curse softly when his thumb finds my clit once again, and now it’s his turn to huff out a laugh at the sound. As he hurriedly circles over it, I busy my hands in the dark hairs at the nape of his neck.
My thighs tremble around him from where my legs are locked around his waist, and as his thrusts become less precise and more sloppy, I sense that he’s close to his own release.
“Fuck, Santi, I need it,” I pant against his mouth, my own suddenly feeling quite dry. “Need you to come for me, please.”
Despite the overwhelming urge to close my eyes as pleasure floods through me, I force them to remain open, and I drink in the sight of his face hovering above mine. His forehead is damp with sweat, and his dark hair falls in soft curls over his face.
“You want it, huh?” he repeats.
I whimper as he pounds into me with emphasised force, a brutal rhythm that is as punishing as it is pleasurable.
“Want me to come inside of your tight pussy, Olivia?” I nod. “Say it.”
“I want it,” I tell him. “I want you to come inside of me, Santi. Please. Please, give it to me.”
Santi adjusts the angle of the snap of his hips ever so slightly, reaching an impossibly deeper spot within me.
I gasp at the sensation, my eyes squeezing tightly to a close, everything just becoming too much, too overwhelming.
I can tell that he’s close – so painfully close – and he leans forward, suckling on my lower lip before panting against my mouth.
“You ready?” he presses, and I nod my head quickly as I chase his lips. “You want it, now?”
“God, yes,” I hum. “I don’t just want it, Santi, I need it. I’m on the pill, I - please.”
“Whatever -” he pants, his large hands moving to hoist beneath my knees and part my legs impossibly wider for him.
The change of position admittedly stings a little, but I can handle it.
I’ll take anything if he’s the one that’s giving.
“Whatever you want, you’ll get,” he finishes.
“Santi, do it,” I practically beg. I’m beyond overwhelmed by the feeling of him stretching me as far as I can go, and the slapping sound of flesh on flesh fills the room. I’m overcome with the need to have him fill me entirely. “Please. Please. Give it to me, Santi. I need to feel it - need you to come for me, now -”