Page 62 of My Spanish Love Affair

Santi looks at me in confusion, and I nudge his chest a little firmer this time.

“Sit back,” I tell him, though he’s completely stoic. “Santi,” I say, laughter in my voice. “Sit back. I want to - I want to be on top.”

“You want to ride mehere?” he questions, arching a dark brow at my admission.

Still, as he speaks, he moves. I watch as Santi carefully lowers himself against what remains of the significantly mussed-up blanket and sand, and I bite down on my lower lip at the sight of him wearing only a shirt.

“You don’t care if anyone sees us?” he presses.

Despite what happened in the locker room, this sort of thing is not at all like me. Most of my confidence this evening comes from the knowledge that we’re tucked safely away in a very secluded, private area of beach so late at night.

I mean, we haven’t seen a single soul since we arrived some time ago, so what are the odds that anyone would actuallystumble across us now?

Still, I have an inkling that the thrill of having sex out in the open is as exciting for him as it is for me, so I shrug my shoulders as I move to straddle his hips.

“I say let’s give them a show to remember.”

Santi practically growls at that, pawing at my waist with a tight grip. I let out a sharp noise of surprise at his sudden grasp, though it drifts into a moan as he pulls me flush against the hard, thick outline of his cock.

There’s no more time for teasing - not when I’m so wet and ready for him - and I keep my eyes locked firmly onto his as I line the head of his cock against my slick folds.

Though all of my instincts have me wanting to squeeze my eyes to a tight close, I push through the feeling and keep our gaze locked intently as I sink down ever so slowly onto his cock.

“Holy… Olivia,” Santi breathes, his green eyes greedily drinking in the sight of me lowering myself further and further onto his length. “Fuck,baby.”

Once he is buried to the hilt inside of me, I give myself a moment to adjust. I’m still getting used to the stinging sensation of him spreading my folds despite the lubrication my arousal has provided.

It feels good, though - like a pleasurable pinch - and the new position has me feeling full of him in every which way.

After a moment, I let out a sharp breath and brace myself against his broad, muscular shoulders. Santi’s hands come to rest on either side of my waist, and he bunches up the fabric of my dress, effectively giving him a clear view of where we are joined together.

My cheeks flush crimson at the thought.

Pushing through that, I slowly lift my hips up, then down, up,then down, repeating the motion over and over again. I keep a steady pace as I slide along his cock, dragging out the delicious friction of him pushing in and out.

It feels borderline ridiculous to be working myself up to an orgasm again, but I’m confident that Santi will happily allow me to take all of the pleasure I can from him.

“Look at you, riding me,” Santi hisses. “Your perfect little pussy is so fucking wet. You’re glistening, Olivia - you know that? God, I’m so…”

He trails off, and my fingers lightly squeeze at the tense muscles of his upper shoulders. “I’ve been thinking about this all night,” I confess, my voice low.

“You have?” he asks, groaning as I bounce a little more rhythmically on his cock.

“Mmhm. Been thinking about how much I want you inside of me. How much… how much I wanted to ride you, just like this.”

“Oh yeah?” Santi says, his lips curving up in a smirk even as his breaths come out in ragged pants. “Well, I’ve been thinking about you non-stop since last week. Touched myself every night just thinking of how good it felt to fuck you.”

The thought of him thinking of me, never mind touching himself because of me spurs me on impossibly more. My walls flutter around his thick length as I pick up the pace, my eyes squeezing tightly to a close as heat floods through me.

“Santi - I - my god. That’s so fucking hot,” I tell him. “I love it. Love the thought of you touching yourself… for me.”

“Of course,” Santi pants. I begin to chase my orgasm in full swing now; no longer lifting myself up and down but rather moving back and forth in his lap, grinding my clit firmly down against his muscular physique with each roll of my hips. “I’ve done nothing but touch myself and think about you since the moment we met.”

“Oh,fuck,” I cry out, my head falling against his shoulder with a soft thud as I roll my hips faster and faster against his pelvis.

The feel of his thick cock filling me while my clit grinds against his body is almost too much, and my thighs tremble as familiar sparks of heat fly through me once more.

For the second time this evening, I’m on the brink of an orgasm - and on a beach, of all places.

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