Page 23 of Faking It with the Ice Queen

So why did it feel like she couldn’t breathe?

Grace caught her eye again, the corner of her mouth quirking up as if to say,We survived.

Elara stood abruptly, her chair scraping back against the wood floor. “We’ll head back to the suite,” she announced, her voice cool and steady. She barely registered the murmured goodnights from her family as she turned on her heel and made her way toward the exit.

Grace scrambled to her feet, hurrying after her. As soon as they made it to the elevator, nudged her shoulder with her own. “Well, that wasn’t so bad, right?”

Elara gave a noncommittal hum. She didn’t trust herself to say more—not when her thoughts kept circling back to thewarmth of Grace’s body beside hers, the way Grace had smiled at her,as if she saw right through everything.

When they stepped into the suite, the door clicked shut behind them, muffling the outside world. Elara exhaled slowly, shrugging off her coat and hanging it with deliberate care, each movement an attempt to steady herself.

Grace tossed her coat over the back of a chair and flopped onto the couch, kicking off her boots with a sigh. “We deserve a drink after that,” she said, her voice light and playful. She leaned over the small minibar and pulled out two miniature bottles of tequila. “Celebratory shot?”

Elara arched a brow, though a reluctant smile tugged at her lips. “Why not?” She took the offered bottle, her fingers brushing Grace’s in a way that felt far too deliberate, far too intimate.

They toasted silently and knocked back the shot. The burn slid down Elara’s throat, warming her in a way that had nothing to do with alcohol.

Grace coughed, laughing at her own inability to take a shot, and leaned back against the counter, grinning. “Personally, I think we’re nailing this.”

Elara chuckled softly, the sound rare enough to make Grace’s grin widen. “I suppose we are.”

They poured a second drink—whiskey this time at Elara’s insistence—no longer just a celebration, but a way to linger in the quiet, away from the family’s judgmental eyes. As they sipped, the conversation drifted into safer territory: complaints about Elara’s brother, Cate’s wild stories, and the sheer ridiculousness of Eleanor’s fur coat.

But despite the ease of the conversation, Elara’s thoughts kept straying to Grace—her laugh, the sparkle in her hazel eyes, the way she sprawled so casually, so comfortably, as if she belonged here.

Grace leaned a little closer, her voice dipping conspiratorially. “Admit it, you had fun tonight.”

Elara smirked. “Fun isn’t exactly how I’d describe it.”

“Come on,” Grace teased, nudging Elara’s knee with her own. “You love this.”

Elara’s breath caught, though she didn’t know why. The teasing, the laughter, the proximity—it all felt too easy, too natural. She hadn’t realized how close they’d gotten until now, their knees brushing, their hands resting within reach.

She tilted her glass, watching the amber liquid swirl inside. “It’s going well,” she murmured, though she wasn’t sure if she meant the evening or something else entirely.

Grace leaned in further, her knee pressing against Elara’s now, the warmth bleeding through their clothes. Her voice dropped to a playful whisper. “You know, I think we make a good team.”

And just like that, Elara was done for.Too close. Too warm. Too much.

Her heart thudded against her ribs as she looked at Grace—really looked at her—and suddenly the space between them felt like a fragile thread, ready to snap. She didn’t know who moved first, only that suddenly they were toe to toe, close enough that she could see the flecks of gold in Grace’s hazel eyes.

Elara swallowed, her throat dry from the alcohol. “Grace?—”

Grace’s smile softened, a quiet dare lingering in her gaze. “What?”

Elara didn’t answer. She couldn’t. Instead, she took one step closer, closing the remaining distance between them. There was nothing soft in this kiss, not tonight. As soon as theirlips touched, Grace exploded. All of her light, her spontaneity, sparkled like a firecracker as she pulled Elara’s hair, making her gasp and deepen the kiss.

Elara’s world narrowed down to this moment, this kiss. She inhaled Grace’s sweet honey scent, filling her lungs as if she were drowning and Grace was her lifesaving air. The two stumbled back further, finding themselves pushed againstthat counter. Elara chuckled darkly as she remembered watching Grace squirm and open her legs in this very same spot last night. She began to kiss her way down Grace’s neck, biting and sucking at the crook, making Grace release that sweet moan she could not stop thinking about all day. But before she could attempt to reenact last’s night show, Grace leaned back, her eyes dark. “Bed. Now.”

Grace lightly pushed Elara backward, as she began to tear off Elara’s designer suit jacket. Her hands hurried as if she couldn’t undress her fast enough. Not one to hand over control, Elara leaned down and picked Grace up, turning toward the bedroom.

When she made it through the doorway, Elara kicked the bedroom door closed behind her as she gently placed Grace down. She ran her hands through Grace’s hair, and continued their exploration down until she found the laces at the back of the corset. Slowly, she turned Grace around and began to loosen the ties deftly. With each inch of skin exposed, she kissed and then gently bit her way down Grace’s spine, until at last the dress pooled down to the floor. Grace stood shaking, gasping, as Elara kneeled behind her and gently hooked her fingers under the lace thong’s waistband, and slowly tugged it down. She followed the trail of lace with yet more kisses and licks, paying close attention to every sensitive spot all the way down to Grace’s ankles.

Grace stepped out of her underwear, and turned back to face Elara, looking down with her lips parted and her eyes dark with desperation. She whispered, “Please.”

Elara smiled wolfishly as she gripped Grace’s thighs. “Please what? Use your words, Grace.”

Grace trembled as she stood bare, looking down at Elara fully clothed. “I…need… I…”

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