Chapter 22 Grace
Grace
After leaving Katarina, I’d made a quick stop in the restroom to freshen up and put on some lipstick.
Speaking to Katarina had been terrifying, but I’m just as scared to face Duke.
I have to remind myself that he’s the one who taught me to use my voice.
A year ago, I’d told him in delicious detail what I wanted him to do to me, and I can do it again.
But as I step into his office, he doesn’t look pleased to see me.
I don’t think it’s just because his brothers are watching us.
I hurt Duke not once but twice yesterday.
First by setting up a date with Olly, and then when I rejected his offer.
I wasn’t there for him when he needed me. Is it too late?
“Sorry,” I say, my voice quaking. “I was told you were alone.”
“What I said was you could go in!” Ed calls from his desk.
I’m about to glare at him, but Duke speaks, making me jump.
“What do you want, Grace?” the Iceman asks.
I’m tempted to turn and run, but after my conversation with Katarina, I have to be prepared to fight, even if it’s with Duke. I hold his gaze. “I was hoping to tick a few things off my list.”
“Get the fuck out,” he growls.
The air gets sucked out of the room in an instant. I didn’t expect such venom.
Calder stands immediately and helps Rory out of his chair. “I think he means us,” he says, noticing my stricken expression.
My knuckle turns white as I grip the door tighter, waiting for Duke to correct him. When he doesn’t, I dare to step deeper into the room.
“I am sorry,” I say to Duke’s brothers. “But this is urgent.” I need to know if I can put things right between us.
“No need to apologize,” Rory says. “I hope that list of yours includes putting Duke in a better mood.”
“I hope so too,” I say in a low voice. I try to return Rory’s smile, but it’s impossible when I register his injuries. “I heard about your accident, but they said it was just a little bump. Are you OK?”
“A few cuts and bruises, that’s all,” he says, patting my hand.
“Then you can walk faster,” Duke orders from behind his desk.
When the door closes, Duke doesn’t move so I stay where I am too. I go to put a hand on my hip, then change my mind and settle for clasping both in front of me.
Duke’s jaw tics. “Explain.”
“My list,” I croak out. Either he’s tormenting me or I’m about to face my greatest humiliation. “I want to work on it.”
Duke sits back in his chair. He’s wearing a white button down and the open collar reveals taught muscles pulling at his neck. “You think you can walk in here and expect me to fulfill your every fantasy?”
I bite my lip. “That was kind of the idea, yes.”
“Well, I hate to disappoint you, Grace, but I have no intention of helping you with your list.”
The jolt of pain is like a thousand volts zapping through my veins. I blink away hot tears. “Duke–”
“Lock the door, Angel.”
My heart stutters. “But you just said…”
“Do you trust me?”
His eyes bore into mine. It’s not a simple question, not after everything we’ve been through these past weeks, but the answer falls easily from my lips. “Yes.”
“Then do as you’re told,” he replies too damn coolly. “We’re not starting with your list. We’re starting with mine. Now lock the door.”
My heart threatens to beat out of my chest. Duke still wants me. And I want to give him anything he asks. He’s suffered enough, but goddamn it, he scared the shit out of me and I want to kill him. Maybe later.
I fumble with the locking mechanism then wipe my clammy palms on my skirt as I face him again.
“Come here.”
I take a step, then another. I almost stumble when he swipes his arm across his desk to clear it.
Papers and a whiskey glass crash to the floor.
My insides twist and I’m panting, but so is he.
We’re almost within touching distance and at least one of us is going to explode with the tension growing between us.
“Stop,” he demands.
As he rolls up his sleeves, my chest rises and falls steeply, straining against the silk of my blouse. “Tell me what you want me to do, Duke, and I’ll do it.”
He wheels his chair back from his desk and places his hands on the padded arms. His fingers dig into the leather while his legs are spread, presumably to make room for what’s behind his straining zipper.
“Eyes up here, Grace.” My gaze flicks upward. “Take your blouse off. Slowly.”
I will my hands to stop shaking as I unfasten my blouse, one button at a time. We’re doing this. We’re really doing this. In. His. Office.
Silk fabric slides over my shoulders and floats to the floor. I don’t wait for the next instruction. I unhook my bra and let it fall too, Duke runs his thumb over his lips. I just know he’s imagining those lips on my skin.
I said I’d do whatever he wanted, but I didn’t promise to make it easy for him.
I skate my fingers over my exposed abdomen, trailing higher to palm my breasts.
I roll my peaked nipples between my fingers and thumbs and my core twists painfully.
When I groan, there’s no theatrics, no faking it. My legs are ready to buckle.
“I need you, Duke.”
“You’re going to have to wait for my cock, Angel,” he says and when I glare, he arches an eyebrow. His hands grip the arms of his chair again. “You need to pay your penance first.”
“My…” The words fade on my lips. OK. I deserve it. “Then tell me what you need.”
“Lift up your skirt,” he says on a rasp. “Let me see what’s mine.”
I roll my lips, fighting the smile as I wriggle my hips and pull up my skirt so it bunches around my waist.
“Fuck,” he groans, his fingernails almost tearing the leather of his armrests. “Angel, have you been walking around the office all morning with no panties?”
“Only the walk here from the restroom. I didn’t want anything coming between us.
Not ever again,” I reply, and the rush of emotion takes me by surprise.
I forget about being playful. I nearly lost him and I don’t want to think how differently today might have been if he wasn’t here. “I need you in my life, Duke.”
His muscles flex as if he’s about to leap out of his chair, but he stays where he is. “You have me, Grace, but I’m not rushing this.” He tips his head towards my desk. “Take a seat. Show me how much you need me.”
Stubborn bastard.
“Anything you say,” I whisper sweetly as I slip between his chair and desk.
I position myself between his legs, facing him as I reach my hands behind me to find the edge of the desk.
I’m further from the desk than I should be and make sure to bend forward as I stretch.
I’m leaning over his lap, my breasts dangling closer to his hands if only he stopped gripping the damn chair.
He growls. I smile.
After teasing him, I hoist myself up onto the desk, careful to keep my legs closed for now.
Once I’ve jiggled my hips so I’m fully seated on his desk, Duke rolls his chair forward.
He slips off one of my sensible-heeled pumps and rests my foot on his thigh, then does the same with the other.
As he opens his legs, he opens me too. My body thrums with pent up yearning.
I lean forward, blocking his view. “Kiss me, Duke. Please.”
His hands slide up my calves. “The first time I kissed you in this office, you said it was meh.”
I roll my eyes. “It wasn’t meh. You know it wasn’t meh. It was toe-curling perfection, only to be outdone by that kiss in the bar last night. That was just…”
I groan. Loudly. But Duke’s features are a mask of indifference. “It wasn’t enough to get you into my damn hotel room.”
“It was everything,” I insist. “You are everything, and if you don’t kiss me, Duke, I… I’m going to self-combust.”
He rolls his shoulders. “Then let’s put that to the test,” he says, pushing against my shoulders so I straighten up.
He drops his hands to my knees and my legs fall all the way open.
His jaw feathers and his breathing quickens as he stares at my center.
My muscles clench in reaction to his gaze as if he were trailing his finger through me.
“Look at the beautiful mess you’re making all over my desk.”
“Duke…” I whimper.
He strokes his thumbs on the inside of my knees. “Lie back, Grace. You don’t get to taste my lips until they’re covered in all your sweetness.”
As I rest back onto my elbows, Duke leans forward and lifts my legs so my calves rest on his shoulders. I brace myself as he leans forward and parts me with his thumbs. His gaze fixes on me as he runs the flat of his tongue slowly along the length of my quivering pussy.
“Damn, I missed the taste of you,” he groans, then takes another swipe. And, god help me, another.
He plays the tip of his tongue over and around my clit and my back arches.
Applying the perfect amount of pressure, he lathes me and I grind against his mouth.
His chair rocks back and forth in a steady rhythm, and as he works me, pressure coils tighter and tighter in my lower belly.
I press my trembling thighs to the sides of his head.
I need more. And I get more when his mouth seals around my swollen bundle of nerves and he sucks.
“Duke! I don’t… I can’t…”
He lifts his head. “We both know you can and you will. For me,” he counters, his glistening lips tugging into a confident smile. “But tell me when you’re almost there. Can you do that, Grace?”
My throbbing clit is already missing his tongue, and I’m biting down hard on my bottom lip. When I manage a nod, he clamps his mouth on me again. The tip of his tongue teases my clit with light flicks and I tip back my head with another cry.
A hand runs up my thigh to my center and he slides his fingers through my arousal. There’s pressure at my entrance and as I look down between my legs, I swear he’s grinning as he thrusts two fingers into me. My inner walls clamp around him and I grunt.