Lost Me Gained Regret

Chapter 442
Despite the effects of the drug, I was embarrassingly flustered.
In the next moment, he nibbled at me again, lightly. His eyes sparkled as he perfunctorily addressed the person on the other end
of the line, “Got it, wise beyond your years,” and then he hung up.
His lips found the corner of mine again, whispering, “May I?”
This man did it on purpose. He hadn’t asked before biting me.
My heart was pounding, and in a moment of boldness, I shut my eyes, wrapped my arms around his neck, pulling him closer,
and kissed him first,
I felt my ears burning up.
But it was okay. I could blame it on the drug.
Gregory seemed pleased. He kissed me gently, cherishing each moment, his voice low and husky, laughter spilling between our
lips, “Just friends?”
The question was a boomerang.
He’s been holding grudges since he was a kid.

My consciousness started to blur. “Mmm...”
“Mmm?”
He bit me lightly, pulling me back to a semblance of awareness, “How many ‘just friends‘ like me do you have?”
“None...”
My eyes were tightly shut, lost in his kisses, I murmured, “Only you, Gregory, only you.”
“When things went south, you didn’t call me. Even when you got your memory back, you kept it from me.”

Gregory’s lips brushed against my ear, “You really do treat me like a ‘just friend, colder than with your ex, much colder.”
My fingers tangled in his soft hair, trying to explain with the little lucidity I had left, “It’s not like that. It just so happened Bryant
was there too. I didn’t know who drugged me, couldn’t trust anyone else.”
“Oh...”
He chuckled, his hand slowly moving down, caressing the soft flesh of my waist. “Glad you finally decided to speak up; I thought
you were going to stay silent again.”
1/2
10.0
I knew he was referring to the past two years.
I decided to play the “mute” he accused me of being, staying silent.
His warm lips left my cheek, and for a long moment, there was no movement, the air thick
with tension.
Finally, a soft sigh filled the room, tinged with resignation.
He moved at last, his defined fingers gripping my ankle, slipping off my high heels.
He paused, as if checking for any blisters or sores from the shoes.
As my blurry eyes met his, filled with desire, I read the unspoken offer.
“Do you want to?”
Classic Gregory.
Outwardly rebellious, the quintessential bad boy.
Yet, he had been unwavering in his search for me for over two decades.
But his underlying motive was love, not possession.

Even now, presented with the perfect opportunity.
He still chose to sweep me up in his arms, pressing his lips passionately against mine before heading towards the bathroom.
“Your legs...”
The drug had hit me hard, slurring my speech into soft whispers.
It was clear how much the person who drugged me despised me.
Gregory, carrying me effortlessly, reassured, “Carrying you is no trouble at all.”