“Santi!” she shrieked, laughing as Santi said something about his bed being too far, and his condoms being in the room and how he couldn’t wait. He laid her carefully on the bed, big enough for Kira to miss that the room was just as bare as the living room. He smiled down at her, straining cock and all, and hell if it wasn’t her favorite smile. He looked truly, truly happy.
“I’ve wanted you too, you know,” she said, smiling, before she kissed him. “Ever since you tried to steal my onigiri.”
There wasn’t much to be said after. He took off his own underwear, his cock stiff and ready. But before Kira could hand him the condom, he shook his head and grabbed her ankles, pulling her closer to where she was kneeling. He traced a little circle around the thatch of hair. Santi was relentless in chasing her pleasure, licking her slit, sucking on her clit as his fingers curled and stroked deeper inside her, listening to her cries of pleasure, the insistent little tugs she made on his hair.
Kira’s entire body tensed, and she braced her feet on the bed as her back arched, as she anchored herself on him. Her pleasure built, and built, until it burst into thousands of stars and constellations, destinies mapping out and fading before she could properly process them.
“Oh...my,” she said between shaking breaths, but stopped short of the last word because Santi looked like he wanted to go there. He was grinning when he licked his lips, when he put his fingers in his mouth and sucked before he moved over her, placing a chaste, sweet little kiss on her forehead.
Of all the things this man could do to undo me,Kira thought, smiling.
“Do you want water?” he asked, and she shook her head in response.
“I want you.” She shook her head, twisting a little so she could reach his cock, rubbing it up and down a few times. Santi groaned when she touched the head, and she spread the little bit of precome on the tip. “I want it from the back.”
Then she turned over so her back was facing him, looking over her shoulder, his face caught between excitement and disbelief.
“I knew you would be insatiable,” he told her, rubbing his nose against the side of hers. “It must be a Gemini thing.”
“Oh Santi,” she laughed. “You know so little about the stars.”
When he finally slid on the condom and entered her from behind, his hands splaying up and down her back, her hips raised, her cheek pressed on the pillow as she grabbed his sheets for dear life. She loved that he wasn’t shy about thrusting into her, about kissing the back of her neck, of saying how much he liked this, this delicious rhythm of the two of them, together. Neither of them held themselves back, the silence in the room filled with their gasps and cries and moans, the slick, wet sound of him speeding up then slowing down, making the moment stretch, longer, longer.
But Kira needed more. She pushed an arm up, wondering how the hell she was supposed to balance herself if she needed...needed...
“Kira,” he said, doubling over so he could grasp her twitching hand. “What do you want?”
“My clit,” she gasped as the new angle allowed him to enter her deeper. “Santi, I need... I need...”
He didn’t have to be told twice. Adjusting his position, he freed his right hand and used that to brush past her belly, the thatch of hair between her legs and into her slick folds, wet as they clenched with his every thrust. She lifted her head to gasp.
“Tang ina,” she said, looking over her shoulder, and Santi kissed her hotly, fiercely. “More.”
And she appreciated that he didn’t ask questions, already knew what he had to do (because she certainly didn’t), placing his foot on the bed, using that leverage to thrust harder into her, and fuck, yes, that was it.
Her hands gripped the bedsheets so tightly she was sure they would tear. But still she met him for every thrust, gripped his body when he coaxed her upright so they were both kneeling. Kira had to place an arm over her breasts to keep them from bouncing too hard. And it wasn’t very long before she clenched around his fingers, his cock, swearing at every star and universe she could remember, because, thank you! Thank you for this, for him and her, and the space for them to do this. Moments later, he came too, gasping in her ear, saying her name, saying she was perfect, and this was wonderful.
But most importantly, that he was happy.
I want to stay here in Lipa.
In the end, the answer came to him as easy as making love to Kira. That holding her close, kissing her, being inside her was as easy as it was to admit that he wanted to stay. That he could give up Manila and all its conveniences entirely, because he was happy here.
“You’re gripping me a little tight there, Sants,” Kira said, but she was smiling as he mumbled an apology, and kissed her fingers. They’d opened the windows to let in the cool December—well, January now—air, and he was holding her hand as she caught her breath again. She assured him she was fine, and repositioned herself so she was lying on top of him. Her arms were flat against his bare chest, her chin resting on the backs of her hands as she looked at him. He could almost see the wheels in her brain turning.
“Something on your mind?” he asked, loosening his grip on her but keeping his hand there, stroking the soft skin of her waist.
“Was not staying an option?” she asked him suddenly, and Santi was a little floored. He’d forgotten how tight-lipped he’d been about the whole staying-in-Manila thing. He mentioned it to her once or twice, but he really didn’t want to hash it out with someone who was a huge, huge factor in his decision to stay. “I mean, I know your Lolo has some kind of mega-grudge against Lipa for some reason...”
He chuckled. If only it was just that.
“I was made to understand that running Hotel Villa was a punishment,” he explained to her, and the truth sounded too ridiculous when he said it out loud. He hadn’t done anything wrong. Had done nothing to deserve that kind of scorn. But he’d gotten it anyway, for daring to run Carlton the way it should be. “That the only way I could earn back my grandfather’s love, and stay in Manila with my family, was to make Hotel Villa a success. And then when I did that, he...asked for something else. Something I can’t give.”
Because the Laneways wasn’t for Santi to hand on a silver platter. His grandfather had asked for the impossible, and Santi was slowly learning that it was okay for things to be that way. That he wasn’t the asshole for letting go.
“So Lipa is...a second choice,” Kira said slowly, and he could hear the pain in her voice, saw her wince. She looked lovely in the dark of the morning. And he could read every expression that crossed her face.
“No,” Santi said, cupping her cheek, brushing his finger over it. He raised his head so he could kiss her, assure her that it wasn’t the case. “I don’t think it ever was a second choice. Lipa feels like the right choice.”
