My legs dangled for a moment before lifting, wrapping around him as I arched my hips toward him.
His gaze on me, Santi reached between us, grabbed his cock, slid it up my slick cleft, then tapped the heavy length of him against my clit until I was whimpering and writhing once again.
Only then did he slip his cock back down, then press inside of me.
Slow.
So achingly slow.
I felt every inch of him stretching me as he felt my walls tightening around him.
I swear we both nearly came right then and there before Santi shook his head for a second, gaining back his control as he started to thrust inside of me, slow and steady at first. Then gaining in momentum.
Until, suddenly, he pulled out of me.
A loud whine escaped me, making a small smile tease at his lips as he pulled me down off the counter, turning me until my back was against him, then slamming back inside me as he leaned back against the counter. His arm anchored around my belly as my head leaned back against his shoulder, eyes closing for a moment to enjoy the new sensation before the need overtook me completely again.
Santi stayed completely still for a moment as my hips started to move in slow circles, as I drove myself back up.
Only when I was whimpering and moaning again did he start to thrust into me as his other hand slid up my leg, slipped between my thighs, started to work my clit as he fucked me faster and faster.
"Come, Alessa," he growled in my ear, a rough, savage sound as he fucked me faster still, as his finger applied more pressure to my clit.
And just like that, I did.
Crying out his name.
If it weren't for the arm anchored around my stomach, I was pretty sure I would have slid right to the ground with the sudden weakness of my thighs.
"Fuck, Alessa," Santi growled, thrusting harder into me as my walls clenched around him. "Oh...fuck," he hissed as he slammed deep, his body shuddering as he came.
I was pretty sure we both shook in the aftermath for a long moment, our hearts slamming, our minds and bodies so overwrought with pleasure that it was impossible to think, let alone move.
"Baby," he murmured, his hand grabbing my jaw, turning it, turning me just enough so he could seal his lips over mine.
His lips weren't hard or hungry.
They were soft, sweet, deep, passionate.
Trying to communicate something.
And something within me recognized it, responded, as I turned fully, my arms going around his neck, pressing my body to his as a warm sensation flooded my chest.
After, I pressed my head into his neck for a long moment before I realized that the sweat was starting to dry, making the cool spread over my body.
"Hey, Santi?" I called.
"Yeah?" he asked, seemingly half distracted by sifting his fingers through my hair.
"We're both naked."
"Mmmhmm."
"In the kitchen," I added, lips curving up.
"Yeah," he agreed.
With a small chuckle, I arched my head up to look at his face.
"What if Avi wants a drink?" I asked, making his eyes widen a bit as a laugh moved through me.
"Right," he said, pulling suddenly away, leaning down, and scooping me right off my feet.
I'd never been carried by a man before. Not like that. Not cradled to his chest like something important, like someone special.
I felt a strange sensation then. It was something like a squeezing in my chest as I rested the side of my face against his warm skin, as my eyes closed to really soak in the feeling as we moved through the living room, down the hall, then into the master bedroom where he lowered me down on his fancy sheets.
He pressed a kiss to my lips, short, but sweet, before pulling fully away.
"One minute," he demanded, moving around the bed toward the master bath.
Did I watch that amazing ass of his while he walked away?
Damn straight, I did.
But then he was behind a closed door, and I was shuffling up and under the blankets, feeling more exposed than was normal for me.
I'd never been someone uncomfortable with their nudity. Especially toward someone who'd already seen me naked, had enjoyed my body with me.
But there was a strange sort of vulnerability coursing through me right then. It was a tender thing, something I knew would hurt if pressed too hard, if not treated with the utmost care.
The thing was, that made no sense.
I was not the 'with utmost care' kind of woman.
But, still, there seemed no denying it.
Which was why I pulled the blankets up to my neck and curled carefully on my side, facing away from his side of the bed, wondering if maybe the smartest thing to do would be go back to my room, put some space between Santi and me and the strange cocktail of emotions moving through me right then.