Page 29 of Faking It with the Ice Queen

Grace didn’t look away, her hand giving Elara’s a slight, reassuring squeeze. “The expectation to be perfect all the time. To be tough, even when people assume she doesn’t feel any pressure at all. But I know how much she puts into everything she does—how much she cares about her family.” She looked directly at Elara, her gaze so open, so unguarded, it made Elara’s heart clench. “She has a kind of strength and dedication that deserves a lot more appreciation.”

A quiet fell over the table, her family’s expressions shifting as they absorbed Grace’s words. Elara felt the heat rise in her cheeks, the praise unexpectedly making her feel exposed, almost vulnerable. She straightened, looking away, feeling as though the intensity of Grace’s gaze might burn through her.

Grace leaned closer, her voice a low murmur just for Elara. “You don’t have to keep proving yourself to everyone, you know. You’re allowed to just…be yourself.”

Elara swallowed, a flurry of emotions she couldn’t place stirring within her. For a fleeting moment, she wanted to say something real, to let Grace see a glimpse of what lay beneath. But that feeling scared her—scared her enough to make her pull back.

“Thank you, Grace,” she said, her tone polite, controlled. She slipped her hand out from Grace’s grip, turning her attention back to her plate, doing her best to ignore the pang of regret that came with her detachment.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Grace’s expression falter, a flicker of disappointment that made Elara’s heart ache. But this was how it had to be. She couldn’t afford to be drawn in, not when every instinct screamed at her to keep her walls up.

Yet even as she distanced herself, she felt the fracture forming, the strange realization that Grace had seen her, really seen her. And as much as she tried to shut it out, Elara couldn’t ignore the terrifying truth: part of her didn’t want Grace to stop.

As the dinner continued, Grace tried to catch Elara’s gaze, her hand reaching out to linger on Elara’s arm, but Elara didn’t look up. Instead, she fixed her eyes on her plate, her jaw tight, and gave only a curt nod in response. Grace’s hand slipped away, her fingertips trailing over Elara’s sleeve, but Elara stayed firmly in her own space, her posture straight and rigid.

Grace shifted slightly, her face falling for just a moment before she recovered, smiling warmly as she engaged Elara’s brother in conversation. But every now and then, Elara noticed Grace glancing her way, confusion in her eyes.

Moments later, Grace tried again, this time making a lighthearted remark to Elara.

“You know, your family has a taste for these multi-course dinners. I don’t know how you keep up!” she teased, her voice cheerful.

Elara merely glanced at her, gave a tight smile, and then turned her attention back to her father, as if she hadn’t even heard Grace’s comment. The warmth Grace had tried to bring to the table hung in the air, unanswered.

Grace’s smile faltered. Elara felt a pang of guilt as she saw Grace withdraw, her expression briefly clouded with hurt. Yet she couldn’t bring herself to soften, not now, not when every word of praise from Grace felt like a crack in her carefully constructed walls.

Later, Grace made one more attempt to close the distance, reaching for Elara’s hand under the table. But as soon as Grace’s fingers brushed against hers, Elara pulled her hand away, folding it carefully in her lap. She kept her gaze fixed on her wineglass, determined not to let Grace see even the smallest hint of her own inner conflict.

Grace sat back, hands resting awkwardly in her lap as she looked around the table, clearly searching for some other way to bridge the gap Elara had opened between them. Elara didn’t look up, instead turning to her sister-in-law with a question about her latest project, making a point to lean into the conversation as if Grace wasn’t there.

Grace was quiet for the rest of the meal. Elara forced herself to keep her focus on her family’s voices, her plate, anything other than the hurt glint she’d caught in Grace’s eyes. But even as she kept her back turned, she felt the weight of that wounded silence pressing down on her, leaving her questioning whether her walls could really hold.

Elara and Grace stepped into the elevator together, the silence between them thick and heavy. The doors slid shut, enclosing them in a small space that amplified every breath, every heartbeat. Elara fixed her eyes on the numbers above the door, watching them climb, but she could feel Grace’s presence beside her—an electric pull she couldn’t ignore.

Neither of them spoke. The awkwardness from dinner lingered, mingling with the charged silence of the elevator. Grace stole a glance at Elara, her lips parting as if she were about to speak, then hesitated, catching herself. Elara felt the brief flicker of Grace’s gaze, the warmth of her standing so close, and fought the urge to turn, to reach out, to explain herself—or maybe just to end this silent standoff.

The numbers ticked upward far too slowly. Elara’s hands balled into fists at her sides, her pulse quickening despite herself. She could still feel the sting of Grace’s confusion, her disappointment. But layered beneath it was something else, something harder to resist—a heat she knew she couldn’t keep ignoring.

The doors opened on their floor. Elara stepped out first, her strides brisk, though she sensed Grace following a step behind her. When they reached the door to their suite, Elara stopped, feeling Grace’s breath at her shoulder as they waited in tense silence. She fumbled briefly with the key card, and in the quiet, she could hear Grace shift behind her, a subtle, nervous movement.

The door clicked open, and Elara walked into the suite, Grace right behind her. She moved to turn, to break the ice with some cool, dismissive comment—but then, without thinking, she looked at Grace.

In the dim light of the room, Grace’s face was open, her eyes filled with a mixture of confusion and something else—something that mirrored Elara’s own tightly held feelings. Grace looked hurt, yes, but there was a longing there, raw and unmistakable, as if she were daring Elara to take a step forward.

And before she could talk herself out of it, Elara did.

In one swift movement, Elara closed the distance between them. Her hands found Grace’s shoulders, and for a brief moment, she hesitated, her control wavering. She could see Grace’s lips part, her breath catching. Then Elara leaned in, her mouth finding Grace’s, and all the tension, the frustration, the confusion burned between them.

It wasn’t a gentle kiss. Elara’s lips were hard, almost punishing, driven by a mix of desire and resentment, a need to silence her own doubts. She felt Grace respond, her hands pressing into Elara’s back, pulling her closer, as if she wanted to bridge the chasm Elara had created. But even in the heat of the kiss, Elara kept herself guarded, her hands gripping Grace’s shoulders with a desperate intensity, as if trying to keep herself from giving in completely.

For one suspended moment, they were locked together, breathing each other in, a tangled mess of fire and frustration.Then the kiss turned into something more, a fight for control and a fight for love, the tension ebbing and flowing between the two as if waging a war between two pressed lips. Elara felt herself being worn down by the ocean of emotions flowing from Grace, and refused to lose her last line of defense.

Turning into stone and flame, an impenetrable wall and a fire consuming, Elara shifted Grace to stumble towards the bed, moving her lips down her neck to nip and consume while she built her walls back up. She continued her trail of kisses as she deftly unzipped and undressed Grace, leaving her bare skin on display. Elara’s hands dug deep into her soft skin, soaking up each drop of warmth as she left her mark. She lifted Grace and plopped her down on the bed, pushing her back against the mattress.

Grace gasped, her eyes wide as Elara crawled over her, caging her in between her arms. Elara continued her caresses down Grace’s body, stopping to pay special attention to her breasts. Elara kissed and licked and nipped her way down to Grace’s hips, savoring the way she squirmed beneath her. She placed her hands on both of Grace’s hips, pinning her to the bed as she kissed her inner thighs and then finally that sweet heat of her soaking pussy. Elara lavished her, sucking her labia and her clitoris until she felt Grace tremor with pleasure. She kept her hands strong on Grace’s hips, not letting her squirm and rock, pinning her with pleasure. When Grace finally screamed out her name, shaking with the orgasm that rocked through her, Elara moved off of the bed and stood at the end of the mattress.

She looked down at Grace, sweaty and breathless, still coming down from the intensity of her orgasm and felt an insatiable need to hold her, to make her scream over and over. But as Grace looked up and held out her hand in a silent request for Elara to come back to bed, she felt that stone wall close up, shackling her to her control. She could see Grace’s browsfurrowed in confusion and then contort in pain as she realized Elara would not be joining her. Elara’s throat tightened up as she turned on her heel and walked to the bathroom, locking the door behind her.

12

---