Unable to keep still, Elara drifted over to the bar and procured the most expensive bottle of whiskey. She poured herself a dram and took a small sip, savoring the way the warmth flooded her chest and calmed her nerves. It was unsettling hownervous each dinner made her. Every moment she was alone with her family was a risk to their charade. She couldn’t decide what would be worse, their disappointment in her lies or the shame of her willingness to stoop so low. There was no pleasant outcome for being caught.
That was why she couldn’t fail. They couldn’t fail. Her family may be suspicious of Grace’s background, but she was relatively confident that they no longer questioned the validity of their relationship. Elara took a larger sip from her crystal glass and sighed as the warmth spread further.
Elara heard Grace before she saw her. The soft click of heels drew her attention toward the bedroom, where Grace stood in the doorway. Every thought emptied out of her head as her gaze darkened in desire. The deepvof the velvet dress plunged daringly to the base of Grace’s rib cage, offering a devastating view of her ample cleavage. The burgundy fabric, so dark it looked like red wine spilled across the night sky, hugged her waist before fluttering open with every step, teasing glimpses of her legs. Long sleeves clung to Grace’s arms, lending the gown an elegant restraint that made the tantalizing flashes beneath it all the more intoxicating.
Elara stood stock-still, summoning a miraculous effort to regain control. Unable to tear her gaze away, she brought the glass to her lips and drained every drop of whiskey. Turning sharply from Grace, she placed the empty glass on the bar and strode toward the door. The rapid click of Grace’s steps behind her was like a key twisting in a toy soldier, winding her tighter and tighter into a ball of nerves.
Reaching out, Elara rested her hand on the door handle, the long fingers gripping it tight. She paused, taking a moment to breathe, hoping to cool down the fire in her veins, but all she could smell was Grace. The faint lavender scent of her soap and her nutty perfume filled her nose, making her head spin. Sheneeded space, fresh air, anything that would cleanse her of the insane impulse to turn around and pull Grace into her. Elara shook her head and opened the door, standing back to allow Grace to pass. She coldly looked back at Grace and motioned to the hallway as if to sayafter you.
Grace’s cheery demeanor was gone, replaced by something Elara could not decipher. She could feel Grace’s eyes assess her own expression in turn, and Elara hoped she could not see the desire hidden beneath her icy mask. Grace stepped near enough for her heat to radiate into Elara’s bones, though still not stepping through the threshold, and locked eyes with her.
Unable to take the tension any longer, Elara gave up on her attempt at manners and turned on her heel, rushing into the hallway and nearly jogging to the elevator.
Unlike the past few nights, Elara could not wait to step into the dining room and greet her family, her earlier anxiety about their ruse being discovered replaced by the burning desire to touch, kiss, and hold Grace. She was like a moth drawn to the assured destruction of the delicious flames of a well-stoked fire. No matter how she schooled her expression, no matter how cold she willed her exterior to be, her insides burned exquisitely.
She attempted to freeze out her insanity with business discussions or family arguments, but her gaze could never stray far from Grace. Her light, her warmth, her smile. She knew she wasn’t the only one drawn to her that evening. In her usual indomitably cheerful way, Grace had managed to charm everyone at the table. Even her mother had a genuine smile on her face as Grace regaled them with another story—this one about her Aunt Lucy.
“You know, my father wishes he could claim my creativity came from him, but we all know it was my kooky Aunt Lucy who made art seem like a living, breathing being to be worshipped. Idon’t think I’ve ever seen her without some mark of her art, be it paint on her clothes or charcoal staining her fingers.
“But the funniest example of her art marking her was when she decided to do aperformance piececommenting on society’s demands to put on a brave face. She painted her face like a sad clown and walked around her campus. She intended for her project to last a week, but after slathering on the paint every day for seven days, she had stained her face! She ended up stuck with a shadow of her sad clown makeup for a month!”
The table roared with laughter, but the only laugh Elara could hear was the bright peal of Grace’s. Elara caught herself staring and quickly looked away. She scolded herself and silently reminded herself that Grace was here because she was being paid to be here, not because they were actually in a relationship.
The dinner continued in relative peace, her parents lavishing in the attention for their anniversary celebration. Victor’s eyes were glassy, and Margaret’s face was flushed with the effects of too much champagne. In fact, nearly everyone glowed, as if the bubbles of the champagne had contained sunshine itself. Elara felt her cheeks warm with a flush similar to her mother’s and realized that maybe she was actually enjoying herself.
Trying to avoid being alone with Grace for too long, Elara chatted with the guests until the crowd had dwindled down to just the immediate family. Cate yawned as she stood, her husband excusing them for the evening. Elara turned to Grace, and their gazes met, making her heart flip as she admired how beautiful Grace looked in that devastatingly tempting gown. Gone was the unsure fumbling and questioning eyes. For the first time this week, Grace looked comfortable, happy even. A warm smile spread across her face, and Elara answered with a small one in return.
Winding through the halls, the two walked in companionable silence toward the suite. Even though they hadn’t spoken a wordsince they left the dining room, Grace’s smile continued to exude light and happiness, lifting Elara’s spirits in turn. Every few steps, Elara would peek out of the corner of her eyes to catch a glimpse of Grace’s radiance. When they finally reached their suite, the soft click of the door closing behind them seemed to break the spell of silence.
Grace turned toward her, her smile turning sheepish. “That went well, I think. I never thought I would see your parents laugh.”
Elara chuckled, “Honestly? Neither did I.”
Grace giggled, but her eyes swelled with vulnerability. “I’m still not sure they like me, but I think they may be convinced we are together, don’t you think?”
Hearing Grace voice her insecurities, Elara stepped closer to reassure her. “They liked you. Everyone did.”
Grace’s brows pulled together, her smile slipping and chin dipping as she confessed, “I’m just not sure I’m… I don’t know…posh enough for them. I feel like no matter how many fancy dresses I wear, they will somehow still see through that and realize I don’t belong.”
Elara’s heart cracked watching the light drain from her eyes as she delved deeper into her insecurities. Unable to stop herself, Elara stepped closer and tipped Grace’s face up as she looked deeply into her widened eyes.
Elara’s hand lingered underneath Grace’s chin as she looked into Grace’s eyes. In the glassy sheen over Grace’s hazel eyes, she could see every insecurity she had ever felt around her family reflected back at her. Sorrow clutched at her throat, making her voice raspy as she spoke.
“Don’t worry about them. I thought you were perfect,” she whispered. “Youareperfect.”
The heat of Grace’s body washed over Elara, drawing her even closer. She could feel the way Grace’s pulse fluttered gentlybeneath her fingers. Their air was thick with tension as their breath mingled. In a half-hearted attempt to stop herself, Elara whispered, “Grace?”
Grace’s lips parted as she quietly gasped, and Elara found herself surging forward, closing the distance between them. Their lips crashed together, the kiss immediately spiraling in a heated frenzy into insanity. Before she could think better of it, Elara found herself pushing Grace back against a wall, her left hand clutching the fabric at the base of her spine. Her right hand shifted down from Grace’s chin, spreading across her neck and grasping possessively as Grace sharply inhaled. Elara took that opening to deepen the kiss, wanting to devour her, to taste every inch of her.
Grace’s hands shifted beneath Elara’s blazer, pushing it off her shoulders. Shifting to let the charcoal fabric fall from her arms, Grace began deftly working at the buttons on her shirt. As soon as Elara’s hands were freed from the blazer, she wrapped her arms around Grace’s back, cupping her ass as she lifted her up. Grace’s legs hooked around her hips as Elara shifted them closer to the counter. Placing her down gently, Elara’s hands drifted down Grace’s legs, finding the gap in the wrap dress and pushing it aside to feel soft, creamy thighs still wrapped around her. Elara trailed her kisses down the side of Grace’s neck as she continued to inch her fingers along her inner thighs. She gently rubbed the lace panties, finding Grace soaked and ready for her.
Grace moaned and wrapped her arms around Elara tighter, her fingernails biting into her back. The pain mixed with pleasure, making Elara moan in turn as she pushed Grace’s lace underwear to the side revealing her pussy- wet and wanting. Grace moaned lightly and opened her legs wider. Elara took that as the consent she needed and she took the fingers of her right hand and began to push them inside Grace curling them upwards as she did so. Elara watched as Grace’s head tippedback as she cried out, soaking in every moment of her pleasure. Elara added a third finger that slid in so easily and began to thrust in and out of Grace. Fucking her was the sweetest pleasure. Elara’s eyes stayed locked on Grace as she writhed on her fingers.
“God, you are so beautiful, Grace.”
As Grace writhed faster and moaned louder, Elara closed her mouth over her’s, swallowing the moans as if she could swallow the sound itself and keep that pleasure to herself. She could feel Grace begin to tighten around her fingers, and Grace began to cry out.
Gasping, Grace moaned and begged, “Elara, I…I’m close.”