Chapter 10

Chapter 10
“Santino…” I whisper, breathless, as his lips trail hot kisses down the curve of my neck.

Each press of his mouth ignites my skin, like sparks catching dry leaves. If he burned me alive with this heat, I’d welcome it. So long as he doesn’t stop, so long as his mouth stays on mine.

He pulls away slowly, his eyes dark and full of promise as he unbuttons his shirt. “The counter. Now.”

I blink, confused, until he gestures with a tilt of his head toward the polished edge of Bar La Lupa’s counter. My fingers tremble as I try to unzip my dress while walking.

“Don’t take it off,” he growls. “I like how you look in it.”

He’s shirtless now, and the sight of his inked chest steals what little composure I had left. I want to touch every mark on his body, trace every inch of him with my fingertips. But he’s on me again, kissing me harder this time, gripping my waist like I might slip through his fingers.

“I want you from behind, Colina,” he whispers, his voice a dark lullaby.

A gasp escapes me as he spins me around. My back meets his chest, and I feel his breath near my ear.

“Hold onto the counter,” he commands, stopping me when I try to face him. “Do what I say—or I’ll punish you.”

He lifts my dress in one swift motion, and then I feel something cold graze my skin. “What is that?” I ask, breath catching.

Santino slides his fingers into my panties without warning, stroking between my folds with a knowing touch. “Just trust me, bella. Let go.”

My fingers dig into the marble countertop, my breath shuddering as he toys with me. His finger slides inside me, slow and purposeful, making my thighs clench.

“So fucking wet already,” he murmurs. “Tight too.”
He moves his finger, curling, then adds another, stretching me open while my body pulses around him.

“You like being finger-fucked, don’t you?”

“Y-yes,” I whimper, my voice breaking as pleasure spreads like wildfire.

He pumps deeper, harder, and I lose my breath entirely, moaning his name against the counter. “Don’t stop… please, don’t stop.”

One hand gropes my breast, squeezing it roughly while his fingers thrust into me in rhythm. “I don’t plan to.”

My legs threaten to give way. I cling to the counter so hard my knuckles ache. “S-Santino!” I cry out.

He pulls his fingers out, leaving me gasping. “Honeyed perfection,” he growls before licking them clean, eyes locked on mine.

He tugs down his black briefs, revealing his thick, veined cock. I can’t look away. It’s all I want—him buried inside me.

“Turn around, Princess,” he commands.

He grabs my waist, bends me over slightly, and shifts my panties aside. Then he pushes inside me in one glorious, deep stroke. A groan tears from both our lips.

“Fucking hell, Colina.”

He thrusts into me with a force that knocks the thoughts right out of my head. I’m spiraling into him, his rhythm wild, unforgiving, perfect.

“No one will ever touch you but me. You’re mine. Only mine.”

Yes, yes—I want nothing else.

His cock fills me completely, his thrusts relentless. My legs tremble with each movement. My fingers dig into the counter’s edge as I struggle to stay upright. But he doesn’t stop. He grips my neck, then yanks a handful of my hair, pulling it back just enough to hurt. I love it.

A moan catches in my throat. The mix of pain and pleasure is exquisite.

“Santiiiino,” I sob, my legs shaking uncontrollably.

Then he stops. Withdraws. I gasp, desperate for release. Before I can complain, he spanks me hard and flips me around to face him. His skin is slick with sweat, strands of hair stuck to his forehead, and he’s never looked more devastatingly beautiful.

He kisses me, hungry and rough, while his fingers work the zipper of my dress. It falls at my feet, leaving me in nothing but panties.

I slide my hand down to his cock, wrapping my fingers around it. He groans into my mouth and steps back.

“So fucking gorgeous,” he murmurs, eyes scanning my bare body.

He sits on the couch and spreads his legs. “Take those off and come here.”

I step out of my red panties and walk toward him, slow and deliberate. His eyes never leave mine.

“Ride me.”

I straddle him, guiding his thick length to my entrance, and then I sink onto him. We moan together as he fills me. My walls clench around him tightly.

“Move for me,” he growls.

I begin to ride him, grinding, lifting, and slamming down again. He groans, sucking one breast into his mouth while teasing the other. My head falls back, his hips rising to meet mine. He’s so deep inside me it makes me delirious.

“Tell me you’re mine,” he pants.

“I’m yours… Santino, I’m only yours.”

He growls and grabs my hips, slamming up into me harder. I rock back against him with reckless need, our movements syncing into something primal and perfect.

“You’re so fucking hot,” he mutters, eyes locked on mine.

“This… you… it’s all so good,” I gasp.

His legs tighten beneath me. “Hold on.”

I loop my arms around his shoulders as he pistons into me from below. I scream, nails digging into his skin.

He slams into me again, and again, until my body bursts into waves of release. He finds my clit and rubs it hard, sending me soaring higher. I scream his name as my orgasm rips through me.

He follows, groaning my name as he spills inside me, his hand still stroking me as we ride out the last pulses of pleasure together.

I collapse against his chest, shaking and breathless.

“You did so fucking good, Princess,” he murmurs into my ear, kissing my neck.

We sit like that, tangled and dazed, catching our breaths. Then his phone begins to ring.

Santino hisses and stands up, frustration in every movement as he walks over to where his pants lay. He digs his phone out, his naked backside on full display.

“Who the fuck keeps disturbing me?” he growls.