The words barely left Santana’s lips and William crashed his lips against hers. There was no way he’s going to let another man touch his baby girl. They were made for each other and he’s going to make sure Santana knows it too. He needs her, every part of him needs her, and the mere thought of letting her go and be fulfilled by someone else – well, he simply can’t stomach that.
He reached behind her and grabbed a handful of her plump ass with both of his hands. Roughly, he pulled her flush against him, effectively stopping her teasing. If she wants to play, then he’ll play with her. There’s nothing more satisfying than satisfying Santana. If in the process of doing so, he can drive home the point that she belongs with him and him only? All the better.
“You had your chance to say no, baby girl.” He growled lowly.
“You’re mine. You hear that? Mine.”
The kiss manifested many things; Daniel was a distraction, a temporary and hunk fill-in for William. The one scooping her up by her ass and kissing away any doubt - even just for a short while - she was **his**. When he pulled away, she pulled him back. Just enough so he could talk, and she could continue to get her fill.
It had been so long. So she clung, unabashed in her whines and grabbing one of his hands to bring to her lips.
Santana has not said no - or yes, verbally - so she chose to continue that pattern, answering by pushing one of his long fingers (a foreshadowing to what’s between his legs) past the seam of her fat pout. She got a few moments to suck and tease his finger with the thought of possible future endeavors in mind in the way she wrapped her tongue around it, and sunk her cheeks in. That was until he took over.
When he growled the ‘mine’, her neat half-up, updo was disheveled between the grip of his fist from him lurching her head back far enough she could look at him directly when he said it. A swift tug of dominance smoothed by the spark in his eyes. It was wild - happiness, love, lust, primal need - vibrated in the sea of blue, and Santana was lost in it. Ready to obey—
“Tana…,” it was her cousin Sarah. Older, devoted Catholic, and absolutely loved to be the bearer of bad news. “We’re winding down. You have like 45 minutes.” Santana snapper away from William, like she’d been caught. “Okay, I’ll be out in like thirty.” She took a slow steady breathe, “I need to say some prayers and be alone with God. Thank you, Sarah!” She practically sang to get her the hell out of there.
2087
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