Page 80 of My Spanish Love Affair

“You’re welcome, Olivia,” he murmurs. “You deserve so much more than this.”

I swallow hard, his words stirring something deep inside me. There’s so much sincerity in his tone, so much warmth in the way he’s looking at me - like I’m the only thing in the entire world that matters to him.

I reach out, my fingers lightly tracing the edge of his definedjaw.

“This is already more than I could have ever imagined,” I say softly.

He smiles that crooked, boyish grin that always makes my heart skip a beat; but then his smile fades slightly as his gaze drops to my lips, then to the necklace, and then my lips once more.

The air between us shifts, thickening with something heavier, more intense, and my breathing hitches.

Santi’s hand slides up, cupping my cheek, his thumb brushing over my skin.

“Olivia,” he whispers, and I don’t hesitate for a moment longer as I close the distance between us, pressing my lips to his in a kiss that starts soft but quickly deepens.

His other hand comes to rest on my waist, pulling me closer until I’m sitting in his lap once again. His lips leave mine, trailing down my jawline and brushing against the sensitive spot just beneath my ear.

“You’re incredible,” he murmurs, his voice low and rough, sending shivers down my spine as his stubble tickles my skin.

I tilt my head back slightly, giving him better access as his lips continue their slow, torturous path. My hands slide up to his broad shoulders, gripping the soft fabric of his t-shirt as I try to steady myself against the flood of sensations coursing through me.

His strong hands grip tightly at my hips from where I’m fully straddling his waist, my knees sinking into the plush cushions of the couch on either side of him.

“Santi,” I whisper, my voice shaky and breathless.

“I can’t get enough of you,” he says, his words muffled as hishands slide down back, kneading at the flesh of my ass over my soft yoga pants. “Can’t help myself around you.”

I shake my head, my fingers tangling in the dark hairs at the nape of his neck as I kiss him again.

“That goes for both of us.”

Our kiss heats, growing more desperate by the minute, and I feel a low groan rumble through his chest. His fingers brush against my bare skin and leave a trail of heat in their wake as he pushes the fabric of my t-shirt higher with a slow, deliberate motion, and my breath hitches as his touch sends sparks shooting through me.

I raise my arms so that he can lift the material over my head, leaving me completely exposed above him.

His large hands immediately move to paw at my breasts, and I sigh in soft pleasure as his fingers dance over my nipples.

When he looks up at me, his green eyes are dark with an intensity that makes my heart race.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispers, his lips brushing against my collarbone as he peppers kisses over my skin. “So fuckingperfectfor me.”

“You’re not so bad yourself,” I tease, though my voice wavers slightly from the rush of emotions swirling inside me.

I run my hands down his chest, feeling the firm, muscular planes beneath his shirt.

That needs to go.Now.

I nudge at his shoulders so that he pulls back enough for me to yank his own shirt over his head. The fabric slides away, revealing the kind of physique you only see in magazines or professional athlete highlight reels, and I greedily drink him in from this new angle.

He’s like a work of fucking art.

His broad shoulders and chest are defined, every line and curve of muscle sculpted to perfection. The light above us serves to highlight the dips and ridges of his torso whilst contouring his hard, muscular abs, leading down to the sharpVat his hips.

My hands skim over his chest in admiration.

“See something you like?” he teases.

I roll my eyes, though my cheeks flush all the same. “Maybe.”

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