Chapter 23
Chapter Twenty-Three
GRACE
The platinum wedding band Christian slipped on my finger a few hours ago glints in the muted light as I thrust my fingers into his thick, soft strands and lift myself up to watch him eat me out. He does something with his tongue that lifts my pelvis off the bed.
“God, Jesus, don’t stop.”
I feel his grin, and he repeats the action.
His enthusiasm for licking my pussy is unrivaled.
Not that I’ve had many men down there, but enough to know Christian isn’t faking his enjoyment.
His grunts and moans mingle with my own, and I swear I lose all feeling in my legs.
The swell in my lower abdomen starts out as a flutter, growing in weight and intensity.
One draw of his teeth over my clit, and I climax, chanting his name over and over.
I clamp his head to me, and he keeps on licking and nibbling until I’m a writhing, sweaty mess.
“You must’ve had a lot of practice at that.”
He rests his chin on my mound and gazes up at me with an impish grin and those dark brown eyes of his that I’m damn sure have tempted many a woman into his bed. A burning sensation spreads through my chest.
I hate the thought of him with other women, and I hate that I hate it. This man is not mine, and I’m not his. This is temporary, and no amount of mindboggling orgasms is going to change that fact.
Remember what he did. Remember what you’re here to do.
He drops kisses along my hipbone, my abdomen, my breasts. Reaching across me, he opens the bedside drawer and emerges with a silver packet. Tearing it open with his teeth, he rolls it over his erection, his eyes never leaving mine for a second.
“You are beautiful, my sweet Duchess, and I don’t just mean physically. There’s something about you that I can’t put into words.”
I’m not sure what to say to that, so I say nothing. Instead, I wrap my arms around his neck and draw him close to me, pulling him in for a kiss. Feelings course through me—scary feelings I can’t let myself acknowledge. He pushes inside me in a single thrust, groaning as my walls clamp around him.
“Feel so good,” he mumbles. “Best ever, Grace. Best fucking ever.”
I lose myself in the press of his body, the smell of his skin, the hitches of breath and incoherent mutterings.
Closing my eyes, I pretend he isn’t who he is, I’m not hiding who I am, and this is real.
That we married for love, not for convenience in his case and revenge in mine.
That this isn’t going to end in disaster with me possibly on the run for my life, clutching the truth in my hands, hoping it was worth the sacrifice.
He shifts his weight, making a little space between us, and flicks my clit without breaking stride. His bicep bulges with the effort of holding his weight on one arm, and his abdomen ripples as his core holds him steady. I reach between us, feathering my fingertips over each ridge of muscle.
Bracing himself on both arms again, he angles his hips, and with every inward thrust his groin grazes my clit.
His mouth clamps over my nipple, and he sucks.
This time, I get no warning of my impending climax.
I see stars, actual stars, and every bone in my body melts, leaving me limp and coated in sweat.
Christian groans through his own release, collapsing onto me for less than two seconds before rolling off to one side. He braces one hand behind his head and caresses my inner thigh with the other.
“Fuck, that was…”
“Incredible,” I offer.
“I’m not sure there’s a word for it.” He brushes his thumb back and forth. “I want you to do something for me.”
I shift onto my side, and he does the same. “What?”
Capturing a lock of my hair, he wraps it around his finger. I hope that isn’t symbolic, because that’s how I feel. Like he’s wrapped me around his finger, and I know that when I’m forced to wrench free, it’s going to hurt like hell.
“Stop mentioning the whole boredom thing. I don’t like it.”
I frown. “Why not? It’s true, isn’t it?”
“I’m not sure that it is, no. Not anymore.
I’m catching feelings over here, and I’m not interested in an antidote.
You’re different. I’m different when I’m with you.
” He unwinds the lock of hair and picks up another, repeating the action.
“You make me feel as though I can be myself around you. I don’t have to pretend. ”
It takes a second for the comment to land, and when it does, I’m stunned. “Why would you need to pretend anything?”
“Because.” He hitches a shoulder. “It isn’t easy being a part of this family.
I’m surrounded by brilliance, expectation, and a dozen other things that keep me on my toes in case I drop the ball somewhere along the way and royally fuck up.
It’s happened before, and I managed to fix it, but I might not be so lucky next time. ”
My heart starts pounding, going from a post-sex ninety beats a minute to one eighty in the space of a second. Could he be talking about Nexus? Do I dare, after what happened the last time I mentioned it, bring it up again?
I cup his cheek and give him my full attention, hoping my eyes are shining with sincerity rather than deception. “Nexus?” I hold my breath, waiting for him to push me away, to launch out of bed and scream at me never to bring up that subject again.
A full five seconds pass, then he nods.
Holy Christ. Oh, my God. Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck.
Okay, breathe. Don’t push him. Coax him. Slowly.
“I can’t imagine how hard that must be for you.”
Another nod. He rolls onto his back and stares at the ceiling. I shuffle closer, resting my palm on his chest, right over his heart. It’s beating so fast. As fast as mine, but for different reasons.
“Christian, I know we married for convenience, but that doesn’t mean I’m not here for you.
For whatever you need. I want to be the person you turn to in times of trouble, your shoulder to lean on when the weight you carry is too heavy.
Your soft place to fall when the ground rushes up to meet you.
I’m sure you want to be the same for me, too. ”
Come on. Tell me. Spit it out. Share your secrets, your guilt. Put me out of my fucking misery.
His cheeks puff up as he blows out a steady stream of air. The oxygen in the room seems to vanish, or maybe it’s because I’m holding my breath. Electricity zips up my spine, and the hairs on my arm stand on end. I rub my palm over first one and then the other.
“You’re cold.” He pulls the covers over us.
“No, I’m fine. Truly. Go on. You were about to say.”
He slow blinks. Once, twice, a third time. A muscle flickers along his jawline.
“It’s… well, it’s difficult for me to talk about. I’d rather not. I hope you understand.”
Damnit. I’m not letting it go. Not that easily. “Whatever you did or whatever mistakes you made, your family will understand. No one is perfect.”
He huffs a laugh, but it lacks mirth. It’s weighted down with bitterness and acrimony. “You’re right about that.”
“Well, then. Maybe talking about it will help. I’m a good listener.” I smile.
“I know.” Pulling the covers closer around us both, he guides my head until I’m lying on his chest. “It’s been a long day. You must be tired.”
I get the message, deafeningly loud and crystal clear: I’m not telling you, so stop asking me. That’s fine. I have patience. I can wait for his confession. In the meantime, I’ll continue with the original plan.
He drifts off to sleep, his chest rising and falling with even breaths. Wide awake, I ease out of his arms, climb out of bed, and pad over to the door, glancing back over my shoulder before I quietly slip into the small sitting area adjacent to Christian’s bedroom and close the door behind me.
Inside my case, I remove a dressing gown and wrap myself in it, then fish around for the box of tampons.
When I saw the bag sitting by the couch, I almost had a heart attack until Christian mentioned he’d told the staff not to touch it.
Thank God. If they had, they could have discovered the burner phone and the USB drive.
I take out the phone, flicking my gaze at the door that leads into the bedroom. It remains shut.
The phone takes a minute to boot up. My pulse jackhammers in my neck. I’m taking a risk checking the phone with Christian in the next room, but I have this urge to connect with the real me through my brother.
A text banner appears on the screen. I swipe it to read.
Arron: As soon as you see this, message me back.
I open the messaging app and type out a quick reply.
Me: I’m fine. Everything’s cool. I’ll check in again tomorrow, but don’t worry.
I’m about to turn it off when Arron sends another text.
Arron: Thank God. At least we know it’s working. Please check in daily if you can.
Me: I promise.
I turn off the phone and replace it at the bottom of the tampon box, piling the tampons back on top.
Burying it underneath my clothes, I zip my suitcase and get to my feet.
Christian is still fast asleep when I return to the bedroom.
I’m about to get in bed when my gaze slides over his morning suit jacket lying discarded on the floor.
Could his phone be in there? Am I brave enough to look?
I crouch, peel open the jacket, and slide my hand into the inside pocket.
My fingers close around a hard, rectangular shape.
His phone. I sneak a look at Christian. Still asleep.
My heart is in my throat as I remove it.
The screen comes to light. It’s locked, as I expected it to be.
Padding over to Christian’s side of the bed, I hold the phone in front of his face.
It doesn’t unlock.
Of course, it doesn’t. Facial recognition software requires eyes open.
Damn. The keypad appears. Six-digit code.
There’s no chance of me guessing that in three attempts.
I shove down disappointment and return to where his jacket lies on the floor, replacing his phone where I found it.
It was a longshot, but worth a try. There will be other opportunities.
Besides, his phone is only one avenue. There’s still plenty of others for me to explore.
“What are you doing?”
I shoot upright that fast, I get a head rush. I stumble, wavering on my feet.
Shit.
I glance over my shoulder. “You scared me.”
Christian rubs his eyes then raises himself up on his forearms. “What are you doing with my jacket?”
It’s only then I realize I’m clutching the damn thing in my hands. Think fast. “I-I couldn’t sleep.” Christ, is that the best you can do?
“And my jacket will help with that?” He arches an eyebrow.
“No.” I force a tinny laugh. “I was picking it up, that’s all. Creases, you know.”
“I thought you’d be more concerned with creases in your wedding dress.”
He’s too sharp. And he thinks his family are smarter than him.
I. Am. Doomed.
“I am. I just… your jacket was closer.”
I am so bad at this. I’m going to get caught. It’s only a matter of time.
“Leave the jacket. Leave the dress. I’ll have the staff press them if you’re so concerned.” He peels back the covers and pats the mattress. “Come to bed. And lose the dressing gown.”
My knees knock together as I make my way back to bed, but he doesn’t seem to notice. I take off the dressing gown and drape it over the end of the bed. As soon as I’ve slid beneath the covers, Christian wraps his arms around me.
“Not tired, huh?”
“No. Strange place, strange bed, you know.”
“I have an idea that’ll tire you out.” He kisses my neck, my jaw, my lips. By the time he’s pulled me on top of him, he’s hard. Gathering my hair into a pony tail, he grinds his erection against me.
“That’s your idea, huh?” I can’t help smiling, partly because I just dodged a bullet, partly because this man somehow makes it easy to.
“Yeah, and if you do all the work, you’ll tire out faster.”
I chuckle. “You’re full of charm.”
“No, beautiful, I’m full of cum.” He laughs, and something unexpected and scary shifts in my chest. Sooner or later, I’m going to have to face up to the truth.
I am falling for this man. Hard.