Chapter 4: The Sea and the Stranger
The path down to the cove was little more than a goat track, winding through scrubby pines and thorny bushes that snagged at Marc's bare legs. He wore the scandalous bikini Gabi had tossed at him—a scrap of white fabric that barely covered anything and somehow managed to make the idea of swimming feel more exposed than walking naked through the villa had.
Gabi led the way, her own bikini a deep emerald that made her eyes look like they were lit from within. There was an impossible confidence in the way she moved, barefoot over rocks and roots, her shoulders squared as if she owned the island itself. Which, Marc reminded himself, she likely could if she wanted to.
"Can you slow down?" he called ahead, his voice catching as he nearly twisted an ankle on a loose stone. "I'm in a bikini and unfamiliar terrain. This is dangerous."
"Life's dangerous, babe." But she slowed, turning to offer him a hand. Her fingers wrapped around his wrist, and she pulled him up a small embankment with surprising strength. "Besides, you're doing great."
"I feel like I'm doing the opposite of great."
"You look great. That's what matters."
Marc shot her a look, but the words died in his throat when they crested the final rise. The cove opened up before them like a secret, a crescent of sand so white it seemed almost artificial, glowing under the morning sun. The water was a shade of turquoise he'd only ever seen in pictures, impossibly clear, revealing dark shapes of ancient stone just beneath the surface. Jagged cliffs rose on either side, draped in bougainvillea, the crimson flowers stark against the pale rock.
"Jesus," he breathed.
"Told you." Gabi was already kicking off her sandals, her toes sinking into the sand. "Didn't think I'd find a place this perfect on my first try? The island's full of hidden spots like this. You just have to know where to look."
Marc pulled out his own sandals, padding after her across the warm sand. The sensation was familiar, but somehow different. Lighter. The sand shifted between his toes, the sun already warming his shoulders.
The breeze caught him, and he felt something alien—the whisper of fabric that barely covered his ass. He'd never worn anything this small in his life, and he couldn't shake the feeling that the world was watching him, waiting for him to make a misstep.
"Gabi, seriously. How do women wear these things?" He tugged at the thin straps at his hips. "This is basically a napkin with strings."
"Emphasis on the string," Gabi said, grinning. "But look at you. You're rocking it."
"I'm not rocking anything. I'm surviving."
"That's the same thing at this level." She grabbed his hand, pulling him toward the water's edge."Come on. I want to show you something."
The beach felt strange under his feet. He paused, shifting his weight, hyperaware of the sensation of sand against the exposed skin of his inner thighs. The bikini felt like a dare, the cut high and provocative, the fabric of the bottoms thin and clinging.
Gabi looked back, already knee-deep in the crystal water, her shadow rippling over the ancient stones below. "What's wrong?"
"Nothing's wrong. I just—" Marc looked down at himself, at the strings and the fabric and the body that was still so unfamiliar. "I feel like everyone can see me. Like I'm on display."
"Everyone right now," Gabi said, spreading her arms wide, "is us and maybe a few seagulls. No one's watching, baby. Just relax."
Marc took another tentative step, then another. The water was shockingly warm—like bathwater, silky against his calves, his knees, his thighs. He waded deeper, letting the turquoise swallow him up to his waist, watching his hands make ripples in a body that still felt borrowed.
He pressed his arms together, feeling the softness of his own forearms, the give of flesh where his pecs had been. "This is going to sound insane," he said.
Gabi treaded water, watching him with those sharp green eyes."Try me."
"If I think about her too much—Julia, I mean—I get dizzy. Like I'm looking at someone else's life through a window. But if I just..." He trailed off, watching a fish dart between the sunken stones. "If I just let myself move, act, feel, it's like she disappears and I'm just here. Just a person in a body."
"That's the thing about bodies," Gabi said. "They're just vehicles. The driver's the same."
"Until they're not." Marc shook his head, splashing water over his own shoulders. "I don't know. Maybe I'm overthinking it."
"Probably." Gabi grinned, splashing him back. "But that's what I love about you. You've always been the one who thinks too much."
They bobbed in the warm shallows, the sun climbing higher, when a voice called out from the beach. A deep, accented voice, rolling over the water like a wave.
"Kalispera! You found the secret spot."
Marc's head snapped up. A man was standing at the edge of the sand, tall and lean, with skin the color of burnt honey and hair the color of ink. He held two masks in one hand, snorkels dangling, and a smile that seemed to make the whole beach feel brighter. He was shirtless, his chest all smooth bronze lines, his shorts hanging low on his hips.
"You're early," Gabi called back, her voice warm and familiar. "I said ten, Nico."
Ten. Marc's stomach dropped."You told me to be here at ten," Nico said, wading into the water with an easy confidence. He was closer now, and Marc could see the dark stubble along his jaw, the crinkle at the corners of his dark eyes. "You know me, always impatient." His gaze slid to Marc, a flicker of interest that he didn't try to hide. "And you brought a friend."
"Not a friend," Gabi said, swimming a little closer to Marc. "A guest. Marc—I mean, Julia. Julia, this is Niko."
Niko's smile widened, white teeth flashing against his tan. "A beautiful name for a beautiful woman." He gestured to the masks in his hand. "I was going to show Gabi the ruins. There's a sunken temple out there, just past the shallows. You can swim right through the old columns."
Marc's heart hammered. He felt his own hand flutter to his chest, pressing against the skin over his heart, as if that could slow it down. "I don't—I'm not much of a swimmer."
"Then this is a good day to learn." Niko was already turning, wading deeper, his body moving through the water like it was made for it. "Come. I'll show you."
Gabi nudged him. "Go."
"Gabi—"
"He's harmless." She was already swimming after him, her strokes elegantly effortless. "And he knows this island like the back of his hand. You'll love it."
Marc hesitated, the water lapping at his chin. He could feel Niko's eyes on him, warm and curious and impossible to read. Inside, a battle raged.
I'm a man, he thought. I'm in a woman's body. This is insane.
But then he moved, following them out of habit, and his own body reacted to the water in a way it never had before. The salt cradled him, buoyant, and he felt an unexpected flash of something that might have been freedom.
They swam out past the shallows, and the stones beneath them resolved into shapes—columns, broken and green with algae, an archway that might have been a door, a shattered statue lying on its side. Sunken ruins. A temple swallowed by the sea. Staggered structures looming in the greenish light, the water so clear he could count the barnacles on the stones from ten meters up.
"This is incredible," Marc heard himself say, his voice thin with wonder.
"The whole island was once part of a bigger landmass," Niko said, floating on his back, his voice echoing faintly off the stones. "Earthquake, thousands of years ago. The temples fell into the water, and the sea claimed them." He turned, treading water smoothly, his gaze fixed on Marc. "There's an old story that says if you swim through the temple's inner chamber, you'll be blessed with a second chance."
"A second chance at what?"
"At love." Niko's eyes glinted. "At life. At whatever you need most at the time. The island has a way of giving people what they need, not what they want."
Gabi laughed, surfaces beside them, seafoam beading in her hair. "Don't listen to him. He spins stories like a fisherman spins lies."
"It's true." Niko's voice had dropped, softer now, a strange sincerity in it. "I've seen it. People come to this island broken; they leave whole."
Marc looked at the temple's dark archway, the shadowed inside where the light barely reached. Something cold whispered across his spine, and he wasn't sure if it was the water or the story.
"Have you gone through it?" he asked.
Niko shook his head. "I'm still waiting for the right moment."
The swim back was slow, languid. Niko kept close, his shoulder brushing Marc's more than once, his hand grazing his arm to steady him when a wave pushed them apart. Marc's own body startled every time—a flush of heat that ran through him like a shot, a strange flutter where his stomach used to be.
It's attraction, he thought giddily. I'm being attracted to a man.
The thought felt foreign and thrilling and terrifying, and he had no idea what to do with it.
When they reached the shore, Niko's hand found his lower back, warm and sure in the shallow water. "You did well," he said. "For someone who's not a swimmer."
Marc's own voice came out breathless. "Maybe I just needed the right teacher."
Niko's smile deepened. He opened his mouth to say something, but Gabi cut in, wading between them with a laugh plucked from the air itself. "Alright, you two. Let's not make me feel left out."
Niko laughed, peeling his gaze from Marc to answer her. "Never, Gabi. You know I have a weak spot for blonde hair."
"I know you have a weak spot for anything with a pulse."
"Not true. I have high standards." His eyes flicked back to Marc. "Exceptionally high."
The three of them collapsed onto the sand, Niko sprawled on his back with an easy confidence, Marc curled and aware, Gabi stretched out like a cat in the sun. Marc tried to control his breathing, the inexplicable pull in his chest turning his thoughts to static.
"Here," Niko said, pushing himself up. He held out one of the masks. "You should try the snorkel. There's a reef just past the cliffs. Parrotfish, sea turtles. It's like swimming through a painting."
Marc took the mask, his fingers brushing Niko's. The contact sent a shiver up his arm. "Maybe later."
"I'll hold you to that." Niko's voice was low, rough with a promise that could have meant anything.
Gabi had gathered the sunscreen, her movements slow, methodical, as she let her hands wander from Marc's shoulders to his chest, her eyes tracking Niko's gaze as he watched. "Let me reapply, babe. You're getting pink." She squeezed a line of cream onto her palm, then smoothed it over Marc's shoulders, her touch deliberately slow.
Marc tensed; Niko's eyes followed her hands, lingering on the curve of Marc's waist, the dip of his back. Gabi took her time, working the cream into his neck, down his arms, across his hips. Marc heard his own breathing quicken, felt something unfamiliar uncurl in his belly.
"Better," Gabi murmured, her hand sliding down his spine. "Can't have you burning on your first day."
Niko laughed, a low, rough sound. "First day? She's a quick study then. Most people need a few sessions to get comfortable." His eyes traced Marc's body with a frank appreciation that made Marc's cheeks flush. "But Julia seems like a natural."
"She is." Gabi's voice was warm, her hands still on Marc's skin. "Takes to everything I show her."
Marc's own voice came out rough: "I'm starting to feel like a show pony."
"Then start showing off." Niko winked, a flash of mischief in his dark eyes.
The air felt charged during the long walk back to the villa. Niko had lingered, his hand touching Marc's elbow as they parted, a brief gesture that felt heavy with meaning.
"He likes you," Gabi said, as if it were the most natural thing in the world."What? No. He was just being friendly."Baby. He looked at you like you were the last bottle of water in the desert." Gabi's smile had a knowing edge. "That man was not just being friendly."
"Gabi. I'm a man."
"You're a beautiful woman right now, and he has excellent taste, and you should enjoy it." She slung an arm around his waist, pulling him close. "Just for today. Let the world see you the way it's seeing you."
Marc's chest tightened, the strange fullness of his new breasts, the pull of the bikini's fabric against his skin. "I don't know how to do that."
"You've been doing it all morning." Gabi stopped at the villa's gate, turning to face him fully. "You swam through a sunken temple with a handsome Greek man, you let him look at you, and you only panicked a little.That's progress."
"A little?"
"A lot. But you're still standing."
The villa's bedroom was cool and dim, shutters half-drawn against the midday heat. Marc peeled off the damp bikini, his skin pricking with goosebumps in the air conditioning.
He stopped in front of the mirror, naked. Julia looked back at him—all soft curves and sleek muscle, a body made for summer days and salt water. He took his own hands and watched them roam over her frame, tracing the outline of what used to be so foreign.
"She's really beautiful," he said quietly.
"She is." Gabi had appeared in the doorway, still in her own bikini, watching him with an unreadable expression. "And she's turning you into a believer."
"I don't know what I believe anymore." Marc's voice was thick, raw with a feeling he couldn't name. "But I know I felt something out there. Something I've never felt before."Like what?"
Marc turned from the mirror, meeting Gabi's eyes. "Like being wanted. Not for what I do, or what I make, or what I can provide. Just for existing. For being beautiful."
Gabi's expression softened. She crossed the room, her hands finding his waist, her forehead pressing against his shoulder. "You are beautiful, Marc. All of you. Every version."
He let himself fall into her, arms wrapping around her, his face buried in her hair. A strange, quiet sob caught in his throat, but he swallowed it before it could surface.
"What if I don't want to be him anymore? What if I want to stay her?"
Gabi pulled back, her hands framing his face, her green eyes searching his. "Then we stay."
"The app—"
"Fuck the app. I'll delete it. I'll smash the phone. We'll figure it out."Marc swallowed. "You'd really do that? Give up the chance to have me back?"
"I'd give up anything to have you happy." Gabi's voice cracked, and she laughed, a thin, watery sound. "Even if that means sharing you with a Greek snorkeling instructor named Niko."
Marc barked a laugh, sobbing on the edge of it. "Gabi."
"Marc."
He kissed her then, salt and sunscreen and the faint taste of the sea, and she melted against him in a way that was familiar but new. When they finally pulled apart, both breathing shallow, she looked up at him and smiled.
"Still breathing, though.That counts for something."
He held her closer, his cheek pressed to hers. The beach, the temple, the question it raised—they all drifted somewhere south of his mind, a storm he'd stay under for a while yet. And as he held her, he felt the woman in the mirror watching them, her dark eyes alive and waiting, preparing to claim a future he wasn't sure he wanted to give her back.
"I don't know what I want," he said. "But I know I want to figure it out with you."
"Then we'll figure it out." Gabi pulled back, her hands sliding down to his wrists. "Starting tomorrow. Today, I want to take you somewhere."
"Where?"
"There's a spot on the north side of the island. A cliff you can jump off, if you're brave. The water's so deep it looks black." Her grin turned wicked. "I thought maybe you'd want to find out if Julia's a jumper."
Marc looked at himself in the mirror, at the stranger he was coming to know, and felt the flutter of a new kind of excitement.
"I think," he said slowly, "I just might be."
The words were still hanging in the air when Niko's voice rose from outside, calling up to the villa, his accent thickening with amusement: "Julia, you forgot your mask on the beach. I was going to bring it back, but I figured I'd see if you wanted to swim again before sunset."
Marc's pulse quickened. He looked at Gabi, whose grin had spread wide and knowing.
"I think that's your cue," she said, her voice grounded but warm.
Marc moved to the window, stepping into the slanted light, his heart hammering as he looked down at Niko, who was standing on the sand with the mask in one hand and a smile that seemed to hold the sun in its teeth. And for the first time since waking up in this body, Marc felt something click into place—a new self taking shape, a woman who was becoming more real, more wanted, more his own.
"Maybe I'll see you at the cliff," he called down.
Niko's eyebrows rose, pleasantly surprised. "The cliff? That's a big leap for a first swim."
Marc felt his own lips curve into a smile he didn't fully recognize. "I'm not the same person I was yesterday."
Niko laughed, rich and delighted. "Then I'll be there, Julia. I would hate to miss who you become next."
The sound of his name—her name—echoed in the air as Niko turned and walked back along the beach, leaving the mask on the table and something else entirely in its place. Marc stood at the window, watching him go, his reflection ghosting over the glass.
Gabi came up behind him, wrapping her arms around his middle. "You know, when I downloaded that app, I didn't think it would turn you into a local celebrity."
"I'm not a celebrity."
"You're the most beautiful woman on this island, and every man with a pulse knows it." She pressed a kiss to his shoulder. "Enjoy it. You've earned it."
He rested his hands over hers, watching the sun turn Niko's retreating figure into a long shadow on the sand. "I'm scared, Gabi."
"Of what?"
"That I'll like being her more than I ever liked being him." The confession felt like lead in his mouth. "That you'll like her more too."
Gabi was quiet for a long moment. Then she turned him to face her, her hands firm on his shoulders.
"I fell in love with a man named Marc," she said softly. "But I've also watched him learn to dance, to wear someone else's skin, to find joy in the sea and in the way a stranger looks at him. The version of you I love keeps expanding. It's not leaving him behind. It's making room."
Marc's throat tightened. "I don't want to lose you."
"Then don't." She held his gaze with a gravity that made everything else fade. "Whatever version of you shows up tomorrow, I'm still here. That's the deal, right? We figure it out together."
He breathed out, a weight he hadn't known he was carrying finally shifting from his shoulders."Together."
"Together." She stepped back, reaching for his hand. "Now come on. Let's go jump off a cliff before I lose my nerve."
The cliff path wound upward through scrubby pines, the earth crumbling underfoot in a way that made Marc's stomach clench. He could hear the sea below, a distant rhythm against the rocks, and the wind was picking up, whipping salt spray across his bare shoulders.
Gabi walked ahead of him, her hips swaying with that effortless confidence she carried everywhere. She was humming something—a melody he almost recognized—and every few steps she'd glance back at him with a grin that made his pulse quicken.
"You're quiet back there," she called over her shoulder. "Having second thoughts?"
"Having first thoughts, actually." Marc's voice came out thinner than he intended. "I'm starting to wonder if jumping off a cliff is a good way to end the day."
"It's a great way.Trust me." She stopped at the edge of the precipice, where the rock jutted out over a dark pool of water that seemed to swallow the light. "I've done it a hundred times. The fall's terrifying, but the water's like silk."
Marc edged closer, his bare toes curling over the rough stone. The drop looked endless, the water below so deep it was almost black, a void that promised nothing but cold dark nothing.
"What if I don't make it?" he heard himself say.
"Then I'll jump after you." Gabi's voice had gone soft, her hand finding his. "I'll always jump after you, Marc. Every time."
Something in his chest loosened. He looked at her—at the wind catching her hair, at the fierce certainty in her green eyes—and he felt the fear crack open into something brighter.
"You know," he said slowly, "I think I love you."
"I know you do." Her grin turned wicked. "I love you too. Now jump."
She didn't give him time to think. She grabbed his hand and pulled, and they went over together, falling into the void with a scream that was half terror, half joy. The air rushed past Marc's face, his stomach dropping, weightless and alive. The water hit him like a slap, cold and stinging, then swallowed him whole.
He sank into darkness, the world muffled and silent. For a moment, he felt a flash of pure, animal panic—the sense that he'd never reach the surface. Then his body remembered what to do, his arms and legs moving in a rhythm older than thought, and he broke through into blinding light.
Gabi surfaced next to him, gasping and laughing, water streaming from her hair."See?" she managed, treading water. "Silk."
Marc sputtered, treading water himself, his new body flushed from the cold. "That was fucking insane."
"That was perfect." She swam closer, her hand finding his waist. "You're perfect."
He kissed her, salt and cold and life flooding through him. The sun beat down, the cliffs held them, and for one endless moment, Marc forgot he was anyone else but the woman in Gabi's arms.
The swim back to shore was slow, languid, their bodies drifting together in the warm shallows. When they finally dragged themselves onto the sand, Marc collapsed on his back, chest heaving, staring at the sky.
"I feel different," he said quietly.
"That's because you are." Gabi propped herself up on one elbow, looking down at him. "You jumped, Marc. You didn't hesitate."
"I hesitated plenty."
"But you jumped." Her finger traced a line down his sternum. "That's what matters."
They lay there in the sun, the heat drying the water from their skin. Marc felt the weight of her gaze, warm and searching, and something stirred in his chest, a thread of anticipation pulling him toward her.
"What happens now?" he asked.
"Now?" Gabi's smile turned slow, secret. "Now we go back to the villa before I do something we'll both regret in the best way." She stood, offering him her hand. "And I have a surprise for you."
"A surprise?"
"Just trust me."
The walk back to the villa felt longer than before. Every step carried a new weight—anticipation building in Marc's chest, a low hum of electricity under his skin. Gabi kept throwing glances at him, her eyes dark and playful, pulling him along with a grip that brooked no argument.
They passed through the villa gates, the scent of bougainvillea thick in the warm air. Gabi stopped at the patio, turning to face him with a look that made him shiver.
"Go to the pool," she said, her voice low.
Marc blinked. "What?"The pool. Just wait there." She was already backing away, her grin sharp and wolfish. "I'll be right back."
"Gabi—"
"Trust me, baby. I know what I'm doing."
She disappeared into the villa, her footsteps echoing on the marble floor. Marc stood alone in the sun, his heart hammering, staring at the glittering water of the pool with a strange sense of unreality.
He sat down on the edge, his feet dangling in the cool water. The silence was thick, charged with something he couldn't name. He could feel his pulse in his throat, a heavy throb that seemed to grow louder with every passing second.
Minutes stretched, endless. He was about to go looking for her when he heard her footsteps behind him—light, deliberate, closing in.
"Close your eyes," she said.
He closed them.
Her hands found his shoulders from behind, sliding down his arms, her body pressing against his back. The contact made him shiver, a low thrum of warmth spreading through him. He felt her breath on his neck, hot and steady.
"You've been thinking about last night too, haven't you?" Her voice was a murmur, rough with meaning. "I can feel it. The way you move, the way you look at me. You want it again."
Marc swallowed. "I thought about you all morning."Good." Her hands slid down his sides, gripping his hips. "Because I can't stop thinking about the way you felt.The sounds you made. The way you cried out when I—"
She stopped, and he felt her shift closer. There was something pressing against his back, a hardness that hadn't been there a moment ago. His mind caught up in a beat of impossible confusion.
Gabi stepped around in front of him. Her eyes were dark with hunger, her lips curved in a smirk. And between her legs, strapped into place, was a thick, black silicone cock, standing proud against her flat stomach.
"Like what you see?" she asked, her voice dropping.
Marc's mouth went dry. Every nerve in his body seemed to fire at once, heat rushing through him like a tide. "Gabi... what—"
"I told you I had a surprise." She dropped to her knees in front of him, the dildo bobbing between them, her hands running up his thighs."Now strip. I want to see you."
Marc didn't think. He didn't need to. He pulled off the bikini top, the straps sliding down his shoulders, the fabric falling away. He shimmied the bottoms down his hips, kicking them aside, panting, naked and bare before her.
Gabi's gaze raked over him, slow and thorough. The look in her eyes made his breath catch, made the air feel hot and heavy in his lungs.
"You're so fucking beautiful like this." Her hands ran up his thighs, parting his knees. "Every inch of you. The way your hips curve, the way your skin tastes." She leaned in, kissing his inner thigh, her mouth leaving a trail of heat up his leg. "I thought about doing this all morning. Tasting you.Making you come undone."
Marc's head fell back, a desperate groan escaping his lips. Gabi's mouth moved higher, her tongue tracing a wet path up his thigh, teasing him, drawing it out until he was shaking with need.
"Please," he heard himself whimper. "Gabi, please."Please what?" Her breath ghosted over his cunt, so close he could feel the heat radiating from her mouth. "What do you want, Marc?"
"You."His voice cracked. "I want you. Fuck me.Please."
She grinned, slow and wicked, and then her mouth was on him, her tongue sliding through the slick heat of his folds. Marc cried out, his hips bucking into her face, his hands fisting in her hair. She lapped at him with a famished hunger, tasting him like she'd been starving since the last time.
"You taste even better than I remember," she breathed against him. "Sweet and fucking perfect. I could eat you all day."
"Then eat," he gasped. "Just don't stop."
She didn't stop. She devoured him with a ruthless, worshipful intensity, her tongue circling his clit with a precision that made him see stars. He was already close, the pleasure building like a storm in his belly, a molten, coiling pressure that screamed for release.
"Oh, fuck—Gabi, I'm gonna—"
"Not yet." She pulled back, leaving him teetering on the edge, throbbing and slick. "Not until I'm inside you."
Marc whimpered, a desperate sound. Her hand found the strap-on, stroking the length of it with deliberate slowness, her eyes holding his with a dark promise.
"Get on all fours for me," she commanded. "I want to watch you take me."
He moved without hesitation, turning around, planting his palms on the cool stone of the patio. He arched his back, offering himself to her, feeling exposed and raw and utterly alive.
Gabi moved behind him, her hands gripping his hips, the tip of the strap-on pressing against his entrance. He felt the pressure, the promise of fullness, and trembled with anticipation."Ready?" she asked.
"Yes," he breathed. "Fucking yes."
She pushed inside him. The stretch was shocking, a fullness that stole the breath from his lungs and replaced it with a molten, burning pleasure. Marc cried out, his hands clenching into fists, his body opening for her inch by agonizing inch.
"Oh my god—" His voice was thick, overwhelmed. "Gabi, you're so—"
"Shh." Her hips settled against his, flush, buried to the hilt. "I'm going to take care of you, baby. I'm going to fuck you so good you forget your own name."
She pulled back, slow, drawing the entire length out until just the head remained, and then slammed back in with a force that made him gasp loud and hard. The sound echoed off the villa walls, wanton and raw, mixing with the slap of skin against skin and the wet, obscene sounds of her driving into him.
"That's it," Gabi groaned. "Take it. Take every inch."
Marc could only moan, his mind dissolving into pure sensation. The stretch of her cock moving inside him, the rough pace she was setting, the filthy sounds filling the air—it was too much and not enough, a fever dream that felt impossibly real.
Gabi's hand came around his front, finding his clit with her fingers, stroking him in time with her thrusts. The dual sensations built him rapidly toward another peak, his thighs trembling as he hovered on the edge.
"Come for me," she growled, her voice low and coarse. "Come all over my cock, baby."Marc shattered. The orgasm ripped through him with a violence that nearly sent him collapsing forward, his body shuddering, a cry torn from his throat that was half sob, half scream. His walls clamped down around the strap-on, milking it as he rode wave after wave of mindless pleasure.
Gabi kept thrusting, fucking him through it, her grip on his hips bruising and perfect. She slowed only when his trembling subsided, pulling out of him with a wet, obscene sound that made him shudder.
He collapsed onto the warm stone, gasping, his body glowing with the aftermath. Gabi moved beside him, wrapping her arms around him, pulling him into her embrace despite the strap-on pressing between them.
"You okay?" she asked softly.
"Never better," he managed, his voice hoarse."Fuck, Gabi. That was—"
"I know." Her lips pressed against his forehead. "You're mine, Marc. Every version of you. And I'm going to make you feel this good for the rest of your life."
He curled into her, his face buried in her hair. The sun was beginning to set, painting the sky in shades of amber and rose. For the first time in days—weeks, years—he felt truly, completely at peace.
"I love you," he murmured.
"I love you too."