And it really shouldn’t have been pleasant, Santi suddenly kissing her, because she had longganisa breath and butter on her fingers, but he did anyway, his hands on her face like he needed her to breathe.
“So are you,” he said, and Kira sighed deeply, letting her relief rush in.
“Longganisa breath,” she warned him, crinkling her nose.
“Really?” Santi asked, blowing in her direction, and ugh, he had it, too. “Didn’t notice.”
He pushed her down slightly, so she was leaning on the arm of the chair, and Kira opened her eyes to the sight of Santi’s face, still a little lost, worried, with a blanket of stars behind him. Kira pressed her hand to his cheek, making him look down.
“I love you, Anton,” Kira said. “I love every part of you.”
He kissed her again, and Kira poured her feelings into it. She wanted him to feel like it was safe to confide in her, that she could be a safe place for him as he had been for her.
He kissed the juncture between her jaw and neck, trailing his lips lower and lower to the valley of her breasts, licking and sucking at the crest of her curves. He licked her cleavage and tugged her sports bra up, like he needed more of her.
“May I,” he said, and it was more a plea than a question. “Kira, may I—”
“Please,” she said, taking the band of the sports bra that her boobs had buried and pulling it up and over her head.
Her bra had barely made it to the floor and Santi was already on her, squeezing one breast, flicking the nipple while his mouth did the same to the other. Kira gasped and shifted her hips to sit up higher, and Santi followed hungrily, nipping at the curve. Kira braced her feet on the lounger as she reached for the hem of Santi’s shirt (he was wearing a Kurama shirt from Uniqlo, because of course he was) and helped him take it off.
“Hay, ka-gwapo,” she sighed, because he really was. The moonlight softened the harder planes of his face and his body, and he just seemed to glow.
“You, too,” he told her, and he smiled, truly and fully. And it was good to know he was here with her. That they had this, at least.
“Come here,” she said, tugging the hem of his shorts so he could brace his arms beside her head. He kissed her forehead, and it was so tender and sweet that tears actually pricked her eyes this time. She wanted Santi to know how loved he was, how loved he made her feel.
Her shorts came off, then her underwear, then his shorts. He had a condom, because they bought some on the way, and slipped it on. Santi rubbed his cock against her thigh once, twice, and his fingers mimicked the motion on her clit, and Kira hoped to god Tita Ria wasn’t home because there was no way she could keep her cries of pleasure to herself.
“Santi,” she gasped. “I need you.”
“I’m here,” he said, taking a hold of himself and positioning himself so he could slip inside her, and it felt wonderful. Nobody had ever filled her the way he did, could make her feel so connected to another human. Kira wrapped her legs around his waist as they thrust into each other. They both liked it like this—a little rough, a little urgent, vigorous. Kira bit down on his shoulder and he groaned, thrusting a little harder. She squeezed her thighs and he cursed and swore.
“Tang-ina,” he moaned, which was probably the most Batangueño he’d ever sounded. “Kira, Kira, tang—”
“Mmm.” She smothered the rest of the curse with a kiss, grabbing his butt and using that as leverage to shift them both. Santi scooted higher on the lounge, and her legs went higher. At this point Kira was sure the stars she was seeing weren’t the ones in the sky.
She could feel it, that all-too-familiar buildup inside of her, could feel that Santi was close, too. So Kira slowed slightly and put her hand on his cheek, getting his attention again. He looked down at her, dazed. She smiled, and waited.
He smiled back.
“I’m here,” he promised, catching her lips in a kiss. “I’m here.”
They moved together slowly, a bridge in the song, a moment together before they resumed their earlier speed. There was no need to drag this out more, no need to reassure each other. Now they could just feel, and be.
And when Santi’s orgasm came, he started shouting and groaning, Kira dug her nails into his skin as her own release followed. Santi collapsed on top of her on the lounge, scooting down a little so his head was on her chest. Kira ran her fingers idly through his hair, looking up at the starry sky, waiting for their breaths to even out as the waves crashed against the shore beyond.
“Oh, I’ve been meaning to tell you,” Santi said, as Kira’s eyes lazily fluttered. The sea breeze did wonders for her sleep. “I looked up my birth chart. I’m a Virgo Sun, Cancer Moon and a Scorpio rising. I don’t know what any of that means, but, there you go.”
“Wha—oh my god,” she said, laughing when she realized what he was saying. “That makes so much sense.”
Santi’s hands gripped her waist and he pressed a kiss to her stomach. And they both knew that things were only going to be much more difficult before they became better. But as long as they were together, they were going to figure it out.
Chapter Fifteen
January 29
Café Cecilia
