🥊 Hate or Fate 💕 {Enemies to Lovers}

.47.

We spent the weekend exploring Gray's house and savoring each other. I'd never been so desperate for mind-altering pleasure that I absolutely had to have sex on a table, but that's what Gray did to me. And boy did he do that to me.

He took me in his kitchen, draping me over his expansive granite island to hitch up my hips and reach me at the right angle. That was before we tried to have a civilized meal at his expansive dining room table, which ended in us eating food off each other.    

We made love in his private studio after he tried to take pictures of my naked body draped in a sheet. He spread my legs wide and brought me to a quivering orgasm that lasted so long, I was experiencing tremors after we redressed.   

Gray's bedroom was a pleasure den for us to indulge in our most hedonistic desires. For example, he brought out a swath of crimson silk, a tie he must have worn at some point or another, and got on top of his bed with a wicked grin.

I bound his wrists and delighted in the way he bucked while I used my breasts to edge him closer and closer to release. 

Next, he tied the silk around my eyes to elicit sensations I didn't even know I was capable of while relishing every part of my body. Since I couldn't see what he was going to do next in his sensual games, my arousal was pushed to new realms of cataclysmic bliss.   

The culmination of everything was waking up out of a very pleasant dream (about Gray, surprise, surprise), only to realize, that I was already in his arms and he was pressed up against me, rock-hard, naked, and ready to fulfill my every need.

For two days, we holed up in his condo with the sole purpose of pleasuring one other. We talked about irrelevant things that popped into our heads and had long, intense conversations that ended in us feverishly peeling our clothes off.

Neither of us had a good suggestion for what to tell Elijah, so we agreed that he didn't need to know about us or our feelings (for now). 

No one did, in fact. Not Elijah, not Braxton, not work, not even Rebecca and Bart.

Gray listened to my concerns about how our budding relationship could hurt me professionally. If CD&R found out that I was sleeping with someone they hired for a campaign, I could lose my job, not to mention, the years of artistic credibility I'd worked to build at that place. 

He promised to try and keep his hands off me when we were at work, but we both knew that would be difficult.

Hell, it felt like the iron in my blood was somehow magnetically drawn to Gray's. Whenever we were in the same room, my heart accelerated according to his proximity. The closer he came, the harder it slammed into my chest, pumping a dizzying cocktail of endorphins and lusty pheromones through my veins.

His touch ignited my skin and sent shivers of excitement deep, deep into my core. The scent of him wormed its way into my brain, until all I could think about was, Gray.

It was actually a real problem. I was in grave danger of becoming addicted to his exquisite body and (insanely) talented fingers.

So much so, that I insisted that I leave his house and go back to Rebecca's apartment on Sunday evening.

I needed a night to figure out what the hell was going on in my lawless mind...and to ice down my vagina (honestly). I regretted the decision almost immediately but stuck to my guns out of my own stubborn principles.

"Alright, so who spills first?" Rebecca eyed me with satisfaction as I tried to sneak into her apartment by shutting the door with great care.

She'd been perched on her couch (also, my bed), in her cozy sweats, and nursing a cup of citrus-melling tea while waiting for me, apparently.

"How did your date go with Bart?" I asked, unable to keep the surreptitious grin off my face.

"You're really not going to at least tell me whether or not Gray could satisfy you like a man?"

"A lady doesn't kiss and tell," I sniffed, strolling into her living room with a slow determination to hide the ache between my bowed legs.

"Yeah, well," Rebecca eyed me like the cracked-out cowboy I was impersonating, then tossed her hair to snort and giggle at my obvious predicament. "Ladies also don't walk around like they got ridden hard and put away wet. So, spill it."

It was true, standing upright was a little more difficult than usual, having just been fucked into oblivion (several times in a row, in fact) over the weekend.

"He is more than capable of satisfying me," I admitted as I eased onto the couch. "I mean, I didn't know it could be like that."

"Good," a warm smile spread across her lips, lighting up Rebecca's face and somehow making her extra gorgeous. "So, do you like him?"

"My lady parts certainly seem to think so," I joked, unable to answer her honestly.

I hadn't had time to decompress or even think about my feelings, which were far stronger than I knew what to do with. All she had to do was hint at the subject and my heart erupted into nervous flutters.

"C'mon," she nudged my shoulder with hers. "Don't overthink this. Do. You. Like. Him?"

"Yes," I whispered as a gust of sparkly nerves swept through my belly. "I like him a lot more than I probably should, Rebecca."

"That's good," her mouth stretched into a grin that nearly overtook the lower half of her face. "Because that boy has had it bad for you forever, according to Bart."

"How are things with Bart?" I asked, side-stepping the knowledge bomb she'd just dropped. "Did you two do anything on this couch that I should be aware of?"

Rebecca giggled so hard that her entire body shook as she nodded her head 'no.'

"I have my own bed, chica," she reminded me, tossing a sexy wink in my direction. "And yes, we spent lots of time there together. I'm telling you, it's like fucking a gymnast! I feel like I deserved a gold medal after that dismount. I mean, he's not just hung, he's got stamina if you know what I mean."

"I'm tracking," I had to force my lips down to keep from cry-laughing while she went on.  

"At one point, I was upside down!" She exclaimed, "Legit, my ass was in the air while Bart flipped me around like we were doing a circus routine. I've never come upside down, but I'm going to do it a lot more in the future! We're talking years of upside-down orgasms I need to make up for!"