I stared deep into his eyes, and I could see his love for my mom. If Mom were here, I knew she would want me to forgive him; she always believed in second chances. In her last letter, she wrote that I could trust him, that he would love me as much as she did. And I believed that.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered. I had no right to blame him for the tragedy that shattered our lives. I swallowed hard. “What happened to Mom… it wasn’t your fault.”
He smiled. “Thank you,” he replied. “I needed to hear that.”
A warm smile broke through the sorrow as I moved across the room and wrapped my arms in his embrace. When our bodies connected, I finally let the tears flow, cleansing the hurt I had held inside for so long. My father held me tightly, whispering gentle reassurance that everything would be okay and that we would navigate this pain together.
And in that fragile moment, I soaked in his warmth and comfort and believed he might be right.
My fingers glided across the keys as I played “It Will Rain,” the lyrics echoing my feelings for Gigi. I only wished she would trust me and allow me the chance to mend what had been broken between us. To let me cherish her like the queen she was.
I paused, sensing her presence, but then continued playing without even turning to look over my shoulder.
The closer she got, the more the intoxicating scent of a lush bouquet of roses reached my nostrils. I reached the chorus and raised my head, drawn to her captivating eyes that sparkled with an unspoken connection. She stood at the edge of the piano, leaning slightly forward, her chin resting delicately on her fist, her gaze fixed on me.
Fuck me.
My heart skipped a beat at the sight of her. Gigi’s beauty was breathtaking. Each moment she was near deepened my longingto kiss her cupid’s bow lips. But for now, I let my fingers do the talking, expressing my love through the language of music.
Singing the lyrics to the chorus in Italian, I saw her genuine smile and a glimpse of the old Gigi. “I didn't realize you could sing,” she said, her voice filled with surprise.
“There’s much you don’t know about me,” I replied. Her smile turned wistful, acknowledging the truth in my words. We shared a moment as I continued to play and sing, my eyes never leaving hers.
“Yeah, I guess not,” she whispered.
As I completed the final verse of the song, tears welled up in Gigi’s eyes as she absorbed my confession. I wanted to wipe away her pain, to fix what I had broken.
The room fell silent as our eyes locked, each moment stretching into eternity. I held my breath, captivated by her every move as she gracefully strode toward me. Gigi’s presence was electric, and as she sat beside me, our legs touching, I couldn’t suppress a low groan. Being this close yet unable to touch her was torture. But Mya’s words played over and over in my head:“Be patient and don’t be an asshole.”
Her hands hovered above the piano keys, and as she began to play “Halo,” it felt as if our souls were conversing through the song. With each note, she inched closer, and I couldn’t resist positioning her between my legs.
My fingers traced the delicate line of her neck. In a bold move, I leaned in, my lips brushing against her skin. She trembled, but her fingers continued dancing across the keys, a smile playing on her lips.
Driven by desire, I inched closer, our bodies melding together. I wrapped my arms around her, the piano keys beneath my fingertips. Our hands moved in sync, creating a harmony of heartbreak, a whispered hope for a second chance, and a promise of forgiveness.
Being this close to her, surrounded by the intoxicating allure of her floral scent, made my heart thump like a drumbeat. A glimmer of hope fluttered in my chest, effortlessly dispelling the darkness that tainted my soul.
I whispered into her ear, “What if I told you I could play all night just to keep you right here where you belong?”
She responded by leaning back into me, her soft hair skimming against my face, and my dick hardened. She felt it, too, because the little vixen rubbed her ass against it.
She began to play “Always Remember Us This Way.” I wondered if it was her subtle way of reminding me that she hadn’t forgotten how we made each other feel before the night she was taken from me.
Seizing the moment, I pulled my hand away from the keys and caressed her thigh. She took a sharp breath but kept the rhythm going. I ventured further, my fingers slipping beneath her leggings. I paused, awaiting her response, and noticed her biting her lower lip, one of her telltale signs.
With a playful smirk, I delved deeper, sliding my fingers beneath her panties. I nuzzled her neck, my breath hot against her skin, as I teased her clit with my fingers. Damn, she was soaked. I groaned softly, feeling her arousal.
My fingers worked between her pussy lips, slowly penetrating her warmth. With each deliberate thrust, her body responded, arching toward me, inviting more. My pace quickened, and her breath became ragged.
“More,” she whispered, her hand guiding my fingers deeper inside her.
She moved her body sensually, rubbing against me, and I struggled to maintain control. My lips and tongue traced her neck, desperate to explore every inch of her body. Finding her sweet spot, I felt her tremble.
“Yes, oh, god,” she moaned. I covered her mouth with my other hand, holding her close to my chest as I fucked her with my fingers.
“Damn, baby,” I said, my voice thick with want. My own desire spiked as I felt her climax building. “Let go.”
My angel was losing herself in ecstasy, her body responding to my every touch, and it was turning me the fuck on. Her ass was rubbing against my groin, and my hips bucked into her, meeting her rhythm.
