53 | My Friend, My Lover

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Past lives couldn't ever hold me downLost love is sweeter when it's finally foundI've got the strangest feelingThis isn't our first time around— Past Lives by Borns

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Past lives couldn't ever hold me down
Lost love is sweeter when it's finally found
I've got the strangest feeling
This isn't our first time around
— Past Lives by Borns

Past lives couldn't ever hold me downLost love is sweeter when it's finally foundI've got the strangest feelingThis isn't our first time around— Past Lives by Borns

Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.

The gentle scent of vanilla filled my nose as I exited Gray's bathroom, calming the erratic pounding of my heart. The villa's housekeeper had prepared a fresh set of clothes for me on the bed — a pair of undergarments and an oversized shirt.

I slipped into the clothes and crawled under the sheets.

I wanted to wait until Gray arrived. Until I was sure that he was safe. I was physically and mentally exhausted — starving, too — but the concern kept my mind running with thoughts that only amplified my worries.

A gentle knock on the door pulled me back from my thoughts.

"Hey, it's me," said the person on the other side.

The voice was enough to jolt every life force in my body to attention, and I hurriedly rolled out of bed as Gray walked in. Before I could fully take in the exhaustion in his face, he rushed towards me and slammed his lips to mine, nearly knocking all wind from my lungs. I hardly had a moment to react when he pulled away.

"There's food ready downstairs," he muttered. "Go and eat something."

"Are you okay?"

"I'm fine, baby. I'll join you for dinner after a shower."

He was out of my sight in a heartbeat, leaving me slightly bewildered as I struggled to register that he was finally here. He was here and safe. I followed him to the bathroom. He stood under the shower with his head down, and eyes closed, his chest rising and falling gently. My eyes dropped to the scar on his stomach as I stripped out of my clothes.

I stepped under the shower with him and wrapped my arms around him from the back. He kept silent as my hand traveled down his stomach and to his semi-hard dick. I stroked him slowly.

"I'm sorry," I muttered.

He spun around to face me, and I raised my head to look at him. Droplets of water traced his sculpted face. His eyes were gentle, but the firmness was as clear as day.

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