Chapter 22
Chapter Twenty-Two
CHRISTIAN
Since arriving back at Oakleigh, it’s been a whirlwind of greeting guests, doing the rounds, and looking at my watch while figuring out how much time has to pass before I can grab Grace and get the hell out of here.
I’m still smarting over the conversation in the car, and I can’t figure out why. She said nothing untrue or that we hadn’t agreed on, yet the way anger and, yes, hurt, swelled inside me took me by surprise. It’s still there, simmering away beneath my skin, which, frankly, is ridiculous.
I seek her out, my gaze landing on her standing in a dim corner of the ballroom talking to Juliet.
Stunning was a pitiful word to say to her at the altar.
She’s so much more than that. It isn’t just how pretty she is, or her smoking body, with the perfect curves I itch to get my hands on. It’s… well, it’s her. Grace.
My Duchess.
My wife.
A warmth spreads through my belly, unexpected but not entirely unwelcome. She nods at something her friend says, their conversation appearing quite serious, which, from what I’ve seen of Juliet so far, isn’t the norm. I’m about to head over there when Grace scans the room and our eyes meet.
I get hard in about one point three seconds.
She blushes, her teeth gliding over her bottom lip, and ducks her head as those long eyelashes of hers sweep down.
This right here is what’s so damned attractive about her.
One minute, she’s sassing me with copious amounts of wit, and the next, she’s giving off shy vibes.
The combination of the two diametrically opposed personalities will be the death of me.
Crooking my finger, I beckon her to me. She stands her ground and mirrors the move.
I smile. Well played, wife. I can’t resist the pull, though, caught as I am in this woman’s orbit.
If I think back to the first time I saw her gliding past me in that gold dress, I was a goner from the start.
She’s so different from every woman I’ve ever known.
After sidling through the crowds, I finally reach her and take her hand, pulling her to my side. “My turn to steal her away, Juliet.” I tug, leading Grace to the dance floor. “One dance to please the masses, then what do you say we get the hell out of here?”
“Don’t we have to cut the cake or make speeches or something?”
“Can’t do those things if we’re not here.
” I slide an arm around her waist, and we sway to the music.
“Haven’t you worked it out yet? I’m a rule breaker.
” She stiffens, only for a second, but it’s noticeable.
“Don’t worry. The only person who’ll get in trouble with the old man is me. He already loves you like his own.”
“It was lovely of him to give me away. It touched me deeply.”
“I wasn’t sure how you’d take it. Can’t have been easy for you today only having Juliet here.”
“No,” she murmurs. “It wasn’t.”
“Well, don’t worry. You have a huge family now.
You’re a De Vil forever.” I laugh. “That makes it sound like a life sentence. Although, in some ways it is.” I lean back so I can look into her eyes.
It’s so much easier for me to read her when I do that.
“I hope you’ll be happy here, Grace even after, as you pointed out earlier, this inferno between us cools. ”
Her gaze flicks from one eye to the other, then drops to my mouth. “I’m sure I will be.”
Lowering my head, I kiss her, but not like I want to. I’m too conscious of the open stares, and I’m actually a pretty private guy. The things I want to do to Grace are not for prying eyes. I’m not Tobias, who thinks of sex as a spectator sport.
“Ready to sneak out?”
“More than ready.”
“Then, let’s go.”
With her hand firmly in mine, I power through the guests, beelining for the door.
If anyone gets in my way, they’re likely to be mown down.
Someone calls my name as I reach the stairs, but I ignore them.
By the time we get to the second floor, the noise tapers off.
As instructed, the staff have muted the lighting throughout my apartment and turned down the bed.
Grace’s solitary suitcase, which honestly broke me a bit, is propped up against the sofa.
She deserves the world, and I’m going to give it to her.
This intense lust between us might not last forever, but I still want to shower her with all the things she’s never been able to afford for herself.
“I had the staff bring up your bag, but I told them not to unpack in case you didn’t like the idea of strangers touching your personal items. But if you want them to, I can have them do it in the morning.”
She angles her head to one side. “You’re a good man, Christian. A thoughtful man. I wouldn’t have liked my personal things riffled through by strangers, so thank you.”
“Ready for my halo any day now.”
“Let’s not overdo it. We don’t want you to get a swelled head.”
“No. My swelled dick is more than enough.”
Her eyes automatically track south. It’s when they linger and she licks her lips that I can’t hold back.
I snap a hand around the back of her neck and yank her to me.
My mouth smashes down on hers, teeth clashing, tongues fighting for the upper hand.
Kissing Grace is heavenly. More than that, it’s an out of body experience.
My entire body tingles, my stomach dipping and rolling with each sweep of her tongue and each little groan that echoes in her throat.
Her hands burrow beneath my morning jacket, roving over my chest and my back as if she wants to tunnel beneath my skin.
I release her, my chest heaving. Reaching into her hair, I remove the pins holding it in place one by one and watch as it gently falls in soft waves around her creamy shoulders.
“Beautiful,” I murmur.
Her dress is one of those without zips or buttons, and I’m all for it. I slide the straps over her arms, and the entire thing slithers to the floor and gathers around her feet. Kicking off my shoes, I simultaneously shrug off my jacket and toss it behind me.
The freedom is all Grace needs. With deft fingers, she has the buttons of my shirt undone within seconds, my tie unknotted, and my torso bare. The feel of her tits squished up against me causes a thirsty groan to rumble through my chest.
She wastes no time taking off my trousers and boxers.
This is different from last time. Then, she seemed happy to cede control to me.
Now? Well, now she is firmly in control.
And I’m clearly not going fast enough for her, because she unfastens her bra with one hand and rolls down her knickers with the other.
“In a rush?”
“Yes,” she gasps, clawing at my skin like an alley cat defending its territory. “Problem?”
“Christ, no. I’m all yours.”
One shove of her hand to the center of my chest, and I fall back onto the bed.
She’s on me a second later, caging me with her thighs.
My dick is pointed north, so hard the crown is a deep purple, the veins along the shaft more pronounced than I’ve ever seen them.
I grip my length and squeeze, moaning at the fleeting relief.
Grace pushes my hand away and replaces it with her own.
“Your hand makes my dick look huge.”
She giggles. “Such a male thing to say.”
“It does, though. I think we should walk around like this all day. I’d be a legend in my own time.”
Her giggles turn into a belly laugh. “Christian. I’m trying to be serious here.”
“Why? Sex should be amusing. It’s far more fun that way.”
“Okay, let’s see if you’re laughing when I do this.” She lowers her head and sucks the crown into her mouth.
“Fuck, not…” I gasp when she sticks her tongue in the slit. “Not laughing.”
Jamming my fingers into her hair, I hold on for dear life as she licks and sucks and nibbles, and that small hand rubs my dick with the exact amount of pressure to make me see fucking stars.
The tickle starts in my balls, shooting up my spine and sizzling along my shaft. I’m close. Any second, I’m gonna—
“Coming,” I grit out, wrenching her off me just in time. Jet after jet of cum sprays her chest and neck and when the jets lessen, the last drops dribble down her hand. I’m out of breath, gasping for air. “Jesus. Christ, Grace. Fuck.”
A dribble of cum slides from her neck, landing on the curve of her breast. Scooping it up with her finger, she slides it into her mouth, sucks, then releases her finger with a pop. “Tastes faintly of champagne.”
I forget how to close my mouth. There is something incredibly sexy about a woman tasting the cum you’ve sprayed all over her body. Words stick in my throat, and I open and shut my mouth at least three times.
“Excellent fish impression you’ve got going on there.” Grace giggles.
It takes a second for me to flip her on her back and straddle her. Bending my head, I lick my cum off her chest. “Tastes like cum to me.”
“You clearly have an untrained palate. We are what we eat and drink, and you’ve had a glass or two of champagne.”
God, I fucking love how she banters with me. I’ve never been with a woman where I’ve had this much fun both in and out of bed.
Using my palm, I rub the rest of my cum into her skin. She arches an eyebrow. “Are you marking me?”
“Yes.”
“Warning off pretenders to your crown?”
“There are no pretenders. You, wife, are mine.”
“Until you bore of me.” Her eyes twinkle, and although I know she’s messing with me, every time she brings up what I said, I want to reach into my throat and rip those words out of my voice box. Regrets are pointless, but I fucking regret ever saying that.
“Shh.” I run my hand from her neck to her abdomen as I scooch down the bed. “I’m about to see if your cum tastes of champagne.”
The hiss she makes as I sweep my tongue over her pussy is a sound I can’t imagine ever tiring of. That boredom I predicted is a long fucking way off.
If it even comes at all.