Page 107

Santiago closed the distance between them, cradling the back of her neck in his hand. His grip was soft, but the way he pulled her toward him was urgent. He brought their faces together, breathing, waiting. Not for long.

“Kiss me,” she whispered.

His lips landed on hers in an instant, and the whole world disappeared.

The Andes, the Guardianes, the tomb, the mission, the curse. Everything.

All that existed was the softness of her mouth and the heat of her body, pressed against his. She gasped, and he drank it in.

Afraid the feel of her would drive him wild, Santi focused on her mouth, tracing her lips with his own until they parted sweetly beneath his.

His left arm snaked around her waist, pressing every inch of her more firmly against him. He groaned as the new position pushed her breasts into his ribs, her hips aligning with his own.

Another gasp escaped as his tongue found hers. She raised her hands, grasping fistfuls of his shirt. He couldn’t draw his mouth away from her lips, her beautiful, intoxicating lips. He sucked her bottom one into his mouth, nipping at it gently. When that drew a whimper from her throat, he did it again.

Her hands moved down, finding the hem of his shirt and slipping underneath it. She drew her fingers over his stomach, across his chest, and around to his back. It felt like she touched him everywhere, and it wasn’t nearly enough.

He released his grip on her neck, threading fingers through her hair instead. He used this new hold to tilt her chin back and pepper her neck and jaw with hot, open-mouthed kisses.

Ali moaned.

The sound of it made Santiago’s hips pulse against her, and when her response was to arch harder against him, he let his other hand fall and grab a fistful of her ass.

Ali pushed against his torso, just enough to drag his shirt over his head. Her mouth found his collarbone, tongue drawing patterns across his skin. She pulled him lower so that her mouth could meet his shoulder, where she bit.

He groaned, reaching to pull her shirt off as well, but she stopped him.

“My tent,” she said, pushing against his abs so that he backed toward it. “Now.”

“I want to see you,” he breathed, kissing every part of her skin he could reach. He followed her, though, happy to let Ali take the lead.

“I want to feel you,” she responded, and any further protests escaped him.

They tumbled into her shelter, Ali taking a half second to zip it up before attacking him again. Her mouth was everywhere, sucking on his earlobes, nibbling his neck, returning to his lips again and again and again.

In the darkness of the tent, she allowed him to remove her shirt and sports bra, giggling breathlessly as it stuck before sliding all the way off her arms. His hands immediately found her breasts, full and heavy, her nipples stiff, begging to be touched.

He flipped them over, so that Ali was on her back, and lowered his mouth, hovering just above her sensitive flesh and expelling small puffs of air against her skin. She dug her fingers into his hair, trying to pull him closer.

Her body writhed beneath his, and it felt so good, too good. He was afraid he would make a fool of himself before they even began.

He grabbed her hands, placing a kiss on the inside of each of her wrists before pinning her arms above her head. She gasped and arched, her back bowing up from the floor, left breast grazing Santiago’s stubble.

He lowered his head and pulled that nipple into his mouth.

“Fuck,” Ali groaned, wrapping both of her legs around Santiago’s waist. He thrust against her, unable to stop himself, her panting little gasps spurring him on.

Santiago dragged his chin and cheek against the expanse between her breasts, letting his tongue trace a winding path from one nipple to the other. When he had her back inside his mouth, his grip relaxed, and Ali chose to pull one of her hands from his.

She used her newfound freedom to drag her fingernails across Santiago’s back, making him shudder. She tried reaching between them both, down to where he was hot and hard and pulsing, but he only shifted lower.

In the darkness, he allowed his mouth to guide him.

Santiago kissed her ribs, dragged his teeth against her stomach, and circled her belly button with his tongue. When he unclasped her pants and dragged them down, taking her underwear with them, Ali swore.

“Is this okay?” he asked, his words delivered against the dip of her hip.

“Please,” she begged, and Santiago took that as consent.