Chapter 7
7
T he sun had not yet risen when Elara woke up. She had barely slept all night, unable to stop thinking about kissing Grace. It had been madness, pure madness, the way she had nearly lost control. It took every ounce of restraint not to drag Grace into the nearest closet and rip off anything blocking her way to kissing, consuming every inch of her. Walking back to their room was torture. Every step closer to that damn bed, every step closer to being alone with Grace.
She both wanted and feared that moment when the door would close behind her. The soft click of the door was like a bell ringing through her body, and she almost gave into temptation. She knew without a doubt that if she looked at Grace in that dress for one more moment, she would do just that. It would be all too easy to slide her hand up that slit and hike Grace’s dress up around her hips. The only thing that stopped her was one thought:
It’s not real. This is just a game. The kiss was just part of the game. It’s not real.
Before Elara could look up, before she could lose hold of that one thread of control, Grace had stormed away. Grace’s anger was palpable, her spine rigid as she walked away. Elara could only watch as Grace grabbed her belongings and went to the bathroom.
Elara fumed over her idiocy. Grace was probably angry with her for taking things too far. She should never have lost control in the first place. What had she expected? Still, as they lay in bed, Elara could not rip her gaze from Grace, wishing she could reach out and hold her once more.
Now, she waited for the sun to rise as she stared at Grace next to her. Like her, it was clear Grace had not been able to sleep much last night. She had tossed and turned, twisting in the blankets until she couldn’t take it anymore and threw them off of her. Now, they faced each other.. Grace’s normally messy curls were in a veritable disarray, and her fuzzy purple sweater had ridden up throughout the night, now resting just beneath her breasts. She should be appalled by the mess, but all Elara could think about was laying her hand on the soft curve of Grace’s stomach. Everything about Grace was soft, full, and utterly alluring. She couldn’t help but remember the way those soft curves felt against her as they kissed last night. Or the way she inhaled sharply before the kiss was deepened.
Elara quietly groaned in frustration, straining to close off her growing attraction. She felt like a teenager again. This was insanity. It’s not like she hadn’t slept with other women. In fact, she had bedded her fair share of them. It had simply been too long; that’s all that this was. Grace didn’t want this, not really. Elara had to remember that nothing between them was real. Was Grace even gay?
Eventually, Elara got out of bed and went for a run at the resort gym. She needed to do something, anything, to get all of this…energy out. On her way back to the room, Elara stopped at the concierge desk and requested entirely too much food be sent upstairs, along with Grace’s favorite cappuccino.
When Grace woke up, their breakfast spread had been set up on the counter in the foyer—the smell of eggs, bacon, and something buttery hanging in the air. Elara watched as she sleepily looked over in confusion. Grace sat up, her hair sticking straight up in places, and Elara smiled.
“I ordered breakfast. I needed lots of carbs and protein after my run this morning. Plus, we will be outside a lot today. You’ll need your energy as well.”
Grace padded over while rubbing her eyes and then looked up at Elara. She momentarily paused, jaw slack as she took in Elara in her tight running clothes. She sported leggings and a thick jacket unzipped, exposing her matching sports bra. Elara watched as Grace audibly gulped and averted her gaze, which landed on the breakfast buffet.
“Umm…are we expecting guests? There’s enough food for five, maybe six, people!”
Elara held out the paper cup with Grace’s cappuccino. “Well, I wasn’t sure what you liked, so I got one of everything. I also may have been a little hungry when I ordered.”
Grace shook her head and snatched the cup from Elara’s hand. “If I eat all of this, you will have to cart me out of this room”—she pointed at Elara—“and it will be all your fault.”
Elara chuckled as she grabbed a plate with an omelet and snatched a croissant from the pile of assorted breads. “That’s only if I don’t eat it all first.”
The chime of Grace’s laugh filled the room, making Elara’s smile grow wider. Grace grabbed a plate with waffles and hefted some eggs and bacon on top. “So outside, huh? What’s the plan today?”
Elara’s smile grew mischievous. “Snowmobiles.”
Grace turned, eyes wide and jaw slack. “Snowmobiles?”
“Snowmobiles.”
Grace pointed at herself and then Elara. “ We? We are going on snowmobiles?”
Elara got just a little too much pleasure in watching Grace squirm as she taunted, “What’s the matter? Never ridden a snowmobile?”
Grace plopped down on the chair next to Elara, dropping her plate unceremoniously on the table. “Ride a snowmobile?! I can barely drive a car. I’m going to get myself killed.”
At this, Elara lost her control and outright cackled. Grace sat back, shocked having never heard Elara laugh like that before.
Wiping a tear from her eye, Elara continued, “It’s not so bad. You’ll get used to it.”
Grace held up her fork and waved it at Elara. “I swear to god Elara, if I’m dying on a snowmobile today, I’m taking you with me.”
Elara laughed again, the feeling of it filling her chest. “You’ll be fine.”
Grace was, in fact, not fine.
Elara shook her head as she surveyed the damage. They hadn’t even made it past the instructor’s first few steps before Grace somehow miraculously set the snowmobile careening into the resort wall.
Grace had tears in her eyes as she professed her guilt. “Oh my god, I am so sorry. I cannot believe I did this. I can pay for any repairs. I don’t know how it got away from me so quickly.”
The instructor looked appalled as he looked back and forth between Grace and Elara, as if he could read in their expressions to know how he should react.
Elara stood, dusting off her hands on her pants. “It’s fine. Minor damage only. Nothing that can’t be repaired.”
Grace wrung her hands as she continued apologizing, “I’m so sorry. I’ll pay for repairs.”
Elara shook her head and waved off Grace’s apology. “It’s fine . Please don’t worry about paying for anything. I own the place, remember?”
Grace looked utterly petrified at the disaster before her as she turned to the instructor. “I probably should stay behind, huh?”
He scoffed. “Well, I’m certainly not letting you drive one of these off into the woods. You’ll have to ride along with someone.”
Grace stumbled through excuses as to why she should stay behind, but Elara cut her off. “No chance. You’re riding with me. Let’s go.”
Grace huffed as she unsteadily walked with Elara back to the group. The instructor continued his quick safety lesson as the group donned their gear. Elara turned to Grace, watching her hand tremble as she put her helmet on. Unable to stop herself, she reached out and helped Grace.
“Hey now, it’s okay. Take a deep breath. What’s done is done. Please don’t worry about that snowmobile. I can’t tell you how many tourists damage those things every season. It’s not a big deal,” Elara reassured.
Grace looked up at Elara, relief washing over her face.
“Really?”
“Yes, really. Now, stop worrying and try to have fun. Snowmobiling is thrilling. I’ll be driving, so you have nothing to worry about. Just hold on tight.”
Grace closed her eyes, gathering her courage as she repeated, “Hold on tight.”
Elara smiled. “You got it. When I turn, lean into the turn with me. Just follow my lead.”
The snowmobiles roared to life, sending clouds of white powder spraying into the crisp morning air. The cold bit at Elara’s face, but it was invigorating. With Grace seated behind her, arms hesitantly wrapped around her waist, Elara gripped the handlebars and eased them forward. The engine hummed beneath them, vibrating through her gloves, and the snow crunched under the tracks as they glided out into the open terrain.
They followed the group along a narrow trail, flanked by towering, snow-covered pines. The wind sliced across her cheeks, sharp and refreshing, but Elara barely felt the chill. All she was aware of was Grace, pressed against her back, clinging a little tighter than necessary.
When they hit a gentle slope, Elara felt Grace shift, leaning with her as instructed, her warm breath brushing against Elara’s neck despite the cold. The sensation sent a spark down Elara’s spine—unexpected and almost unsettling.
“You okay back there?” Elara called over the hum of the engine.
Grace’s helmet tapped against hers as she leaned forward to respond. “Still alive!”
Elara couldn’t help but smile, something warm unfurling in her chest. She revved the engine a little, just to see if Grace would squeal—and she did, a startled laugh spilling from her lips. The sound was bright and unguarded, and it made Elara’s heart twist.
As they picked up speed, the world around them transformed into a blur of glistening snowdrifts and pine branches weighed down with frost. Every turn made Grace shift closer, her arms tightening instinctively, her body moving in sync with Elara’s. The pressure of Grace’s hands on her waist and the way her thighs pressed into hers sent Elara’s thoughts scattering, making it hard to focus. The touch was innocent, yet it felt intimate—too intimate for something that was supposed to be fake.
They caught up with the rest of the group in a wide-open meadow, the sun reflecting off the untouched snow in a blinding shimmer. Elara slowed the snowmobile to a stop, feeling Grace’s arms relax but not let go. Cate and her husband glided past them, laughing effortlessly, followed by James and his wife, picture-perfect in their matching winter gear.
Watching her siblings, Elara felt a familiar pang—jealousy, resentment, and that old ache of never quite being what her family wanted. Cate with her happy, chaotic family, and James with his glamorous wife—both fitting neatly into the Silver family mold. And here she was, still trying to convince herself and everyone else that she belonged.
A glance toward her mother caught Margaret’s gaze, and Elara’s stomach tightened. Her mother’s polite smile never wavered, but her eyes flicked to Grace with quiet judgment. Elara’s jaw clenched. No matter how well Grace played her part, it would never be enough. Elara would never be enough.
Grace leaned closer, sensing the shift in Elara’s mood. “You good?” she asked softly, her breath warming the edge of Elara’s ear through the helmet.
Elara exhaled slowly, forcing her tension to melt with the cold. “Yeah,” she replied, softer than she intended. “Let’s keep going.”
They started the snowmobile again, weaving through snowy hills and shadowed forests. Elara’s mind drifted as they rode, but Grace’s presence was constant—a steady warmth against the winter cold. For once, Elara didn’t feel entirely alone.
By the time they returned to the lodge, the sun was dipping low, casting the snow in shades of gold and lavender. Grace dismounted with a breathless grin, snowflakes caught in her hair. Elara watched, her heart doing a strange, unsettling dance in her chest.
Elara silently helped Grace out of the safety gear, savoring the way her fingers could lightly touch Grace’s throat as she unclipped her helmet. Elara quietly took the helmet, assessing every inch of Grace’s face, hoping for some sign that she wasn’t alone in this feeling. Grace silently looked up at her, an unspoken question in her eyes Elara couldn’t quite decipher.
Victor chose that moment to walk up, breaking their reverie. “Well, Elara, I have to give it to you. This was an outstanding choice today. A near-perfect outing”—he looked pointedly at Grace—“if it weren’t for the mishap at the beginning.”
Grace’s face fell, and Elara felt the shared moment between them dissolve into nothingness.
Later that evening, Elara found herself standing in the suite’s foyer waiting on Grace again. Standing in front of the floor-length mirror, she inspected her reflection. Smoothing down the lapels of the charcoal-gray velvet blazer, Elara felt more than a little pleased at the way the black slacks and matching black shirt complimented the blazer, making her look as if she had stepped out of the ashes of a fire extinguisher. Her normally straight chin-length hair was slicked back, accenting the diamond earrings that shone bright in comparison. Every piece was expertly chosen, dripping in exquisitely intricate detail, down to the silver embroidery on the cuffs of her black sleeves.
Unable to keep still, Elara drifted over to the bar and procured the most expensive bottle of whiskey. She poured herself a dram and took a small sip, savoring the way the warmth flooded her chest and calmed her nerves. It was unsettling how nervous each dinner made her. Every moment she was alone with her family was a risk to their charade. She couldn’t decide what would be worse, their disappointment in her lies or the shame of her willingness to stoop so low. There was no pleasant outcome for being caught.
That was why she couldn’t fail. They couldn’t fail. Her family may be suspicious of Grace’s background, but she was relatively confident that they no longer questioned the validity of their relationship. Elara took a larger sip from her crystal glass and sighed as the warmth spread further.
Elara heard Grace before she saw her. The soft click of heels drew her attention toward the bedroom, where Grace stood in the doorway. Every thought emptied out of her head as her gaze darkened in desire. The deep v of the velvet dress plunged daringly to the base of Grace’s rib cage, offering a devastating view of her ample cleavage. The burgundy fabric, so dark it looked like red wine spilled across the night sky, hugged her waist before fluttering open with every step, teasing glimpses of her legs. Long sleeves clung to Grace’s arms, lending the gown an elegant restraint that made the tantalizing flashes beneath it all the more intoxicating.
Elara stood stock-still, summoning a miraculous effort to regain control. Unable to tear her gaze away, she brought the glass to her lips and drained every drop of whiskey. Turning sharply from Grace, she placed the empty glass on the bar and strode toward the door. The rapid click of Grace’s steps behind her was like a key twisting in a toy soldier, winding her tighter and tighter into a ball of nerves.
Reaching out, Elara rested her hand on the door handle, the long fingers gripping it tight. She paused, taking a moment to breathe, hoping to cool down the fire in her veins, but all she could smell was Grace. The faint lavender scent of her soap and her nutty perfume filled her nose, making her head spin. She needed space, fresh air, anything that would cleanse her of the insane impulse to turn around and pull Grace into her. Elara shook her head and opened the door, standing back to allow Grace to pass. She coldly looked back at Grace and motioned to the hallway as if to say after you.
Grace’s cheery demeanor was gone, replaced by something Elara could not decipher. She could feel Grace’s eyes assess her own expression in turn, and Elara hoped she could not see the desire hidden beneath her icy mask. Grace stepped near enough for her heat to radiate into Elara’s bones, though still not stepping through the threshold, and locked eyes with her.
Unable to take the tension any longer, Elara gave up on her attempt at manners and turned on her heel, rushing into the hallway and nearly jogging to the elevator.
Unlike the past few nights, Elara could not wait to step into the dining room and greet her family, her earlier anxiety about their ruse being discovered replaced by the burning desire to touch, kiss, and hold Grace. She was like a moth drawn to the assured destruction of the delicious flames of a well-stoked fire. No matter how she schooled her expression, no matter how cold she willed her exterior to be, her insides burned exquisitely.
She attempted to freeze out her insanity with business discussions or family arguments, but her gaze could never stray far from Grace. Her light, her warmth, her smile. She knew she wasn’t the only one drawn to her that evening. In her usual indomitably cheerful way, Grace had managed to charm everyone at the table. Even her mother had a genuine smile on her face as Grace regaled them with another story—this one about her Aunt Lucy.
“You know, my father wishes he could claim my creativity came from him, but we all know it was my kooky Aunt Lucy who made art seem like a living, breathing being to be worshipped. I don’t think I’ve ever seen her without some mark of her art, be it paint on her clothes or charcoal staining her fingers.
“But the funniest example of her art marking her was when she decided to do a performance piece commenting on society’s demands to put on a brave face. She painted her face like a sad clown and walked around her campus. She intended for her project to last a week, but after slathering on the paint every day for seven days, she had stained her face! She ended up stuck with a shadow of her sad clown makeup for a month!”
The table roared with laughter, but the only laugh Elara could hear was the bright peal of Grace’s. Elara caught herself staring and quickly looked away. She scolded herself and silently reminded herself that Grace was here because she was being paid to be here, not because they were actually in a relationship.
The dinner continued in relative peace, her parents lavishing in the attention for their anniversary celebration. Victor’s eyes were glassy, and Margaret’s face was flushed with the effects of too much champagne. In fact, nearly everyone glowed, as if the bubbles of the champagne had contained sunshine itself. Elara felt her cheeks warm with a flush similar to her mother’s and realized that maybe she was actually enjoying herself.
Trying to avoid being alone with Grace for too long, Elara chatted with the guests until the crowd had dwindled down to just the immediate family. Cate yawned as she stood, her husband excusing them for the evening. Elara turned to Grace, and their gazes met, making her heart flip as she admired how beautiful Grace looked in that devastatingly tempting gown. Gone was the unsure fumbling and questioning eyes. For the first time this week, Grace looked comfortable, happy even. A warm smile spread across her face, and Elara answered with a small one in return.
Winding through the halls, the two walked in companionable silence toward the suite. Even though they hadn’t spoken a word since they left the dining room, Grace’s smile continued to exude light and happiness, lifting Elara’s spirits in turn. Every few steps, Elara would peek out of the corner of her eyes to catch a glimpse of Grace’s radiance. When they finally reached their suite, the soft click of the door closing behind them seemed to break the spell of silence.
Grace turned toward her, her smile turning sheepish. “That went well, I think. I never thought I would see your parents laugh.”
Elara chuckled, “Honestly? Neither did I.”
Grace giggled, but her eyes swelled with vulnerability. “I’m still not sure they like me, but I think they may be convinced we are together, don’t you think?”
Hearing Grace voice her insecurities, Elara stepped closer to reassure her. “They liked you. Everyone did.”
Grace’s brows pulled together, her smile slipping and chin dipping as she confessed, “I’m just not sure I’m… I don’t know…posh enough for them. I feel like no matter how many fancy dresses I wear, they will somehow still see through that and realize I don’t belong.”
Elara’s heart cracked watching the light drain from her eyes as she delved deeper into her insecurities. Unable to stop herself, Elara stepped closer and tipped Grace’s face up as she looked deeply into her widened eyes.
Elara’s hand lingered underneath Grace’s chin as she looked into Grace’s eyes. In the glassy sheen over Grace’s hazel eyes, she could see every insecurity she had ever felt around her family reflected back at her. Sorrow clutched at her throat, making her voice raspy as she spoke.
“Don’t worry about them. I thought you were perfect,” she whispered. “You are perfect.”
The heat of Grace’s body washed over Elara, drawing her even closer. She could feel the way Grace’s pulse fluttered gently beneath her fingers. Their air was thick with tension as their breath mingled. In a half-hearted attempt to stop herself, Elara whispered, “Grace?”
Grace’s lips parted as she quietly gasped, and Elara found herself surging forward, closing the distance between them. Their lips crashed together, the kiss immediately spiraling in a heated frenzy into insanity. Before she could think better of it, Elara found herself pushing Grace back against a wall, her left hand clutching the fabric at the base of her spine. Her right hand shifted down from Grace’s chin, spreading across her neck and grasping possessively as Grace sharply inhaled. Elara took that opening to deepen the kiss, wanting to devour her, to taste every inch of her.
Grace’s hands shifted beneath Elara’s blazer, pushing it off her shoulders. Shifting to let the charcoal fabric fall from her arms, Grace began deftly working at the buttons on her shirt. As soon as Elara’s hands were freed from the blazer, she wrapped her arms around Grace’s back, cupping her ass as she lifted her up. Grace’s legs hooked around her hips as Elara shifted them closer to the counter. Placing her down gently, Elara’s hands drifted down Grace’s legs, finding the gap in the wrap dress and pushing it aside to feel soft, creamy thighs still wrapped around her. Elara trailed her kisses down the side of Grace’s neck as she continued to inch her fingers along her inner thighs. She gently rubbed the lace panties, finding Grace soaked and ready for her.
Grace moaned and wrapped her arms around Elara tighter, her fingernails biting into her back. The pain mixed with pleasure, making Elara moan in turn as she pushed Grace’s lace underwear to the side revealing her pussy- wet and wanting. Grace moaned lightly and opened her legs wider. Elara took that as the consent she needed and she took the fingers of her right hand and began to push them inside Grace curling them upwards as she did so. Elara watched as Grace’s head tipped back as she cried out, soaking in every moment of her pleasure. Elara added a third finger that slid in so easily and began to thrust in and out of Grace. Fucking her was the sweetest pleasure. Elara’s eyes stayed locked on Grace as she writhed on her fingers.
“God, you are so beautiful, Grace.”
As Grace writhed faster and moaned louder, Elara closed her mouth over her’s, swallowing the moans as if she could swallow the sound itself and keep that pleasure to herself. She could feel Grace begin to tighten around her fingers, and Grace began to cry out.
Gasping, Grace moaned and begged, “Elara, I…I’m close.”
Elara continued her sweet torture increasing the pace with which she was fucking Grace and moving her thumb to put pressure on Grace’s swollen clit.
She wanted to feel Grace’s orgasm so desperately. She wanted to give Grace the ultimate release.
Grace’s moans grew louder than ever, her lips mere centimetres from Elara’s. Her breathing quickened and Elara’s fingers squelched inside of her just one more time before Grace’s orgasm crashed through them both like a tidal wave. Grace cried out loudly and Elara could feel the reverberations of her climax through her fingers, up her arm, between her own legs.
Fuck. It has never been like this before.
It was the most incredible feeling she had ever felt.
Before a word could be spoken, Elara wrapped her arms around Grace, picking her up once more and carried her over toward the bed.
Grace’s hungry hands began to work at the remaining clothes, stripping Elara naked as they stumbled forward. Elara kissed her collarbone as she unzipped Grace’s dress, pushing it aside, and watched it pool to the ground. Her eyes hungrily took in Grace’s curves, naked except for those lace panties. Elara gently lowered Grace onto the bed and slipped the last remaining fabric down her legs. Elara stood at the edge of the bed, hungrily drinking in the visage of Grace’s curves, the way her nipples peaked.
Grace leaned up on one elbow and huskily asked, “Are you going to stare all night or are you going to join me?”
Elara knelt on the bed, opening Grace’s legs with her hands as she did so and moving between them. All she could see was Grace’s wet and tempting pussy opening before her like a flower.
Elara’s mouth was watering at the sight and she knew exactly what she wanted next. She dipped her head between Grace’s legs and took Grace in her mouth, licking long stokes from bottom to top to taste her entirely, sucking Grace’s excited labia into her mouth, circling Grace’s full clitoris with her tongue before pulling it into her mouth and suckling.
She dipped her tongue lower, pushing it deep inside of Grace, parting Grace’s labia with her hands to give her tongue as much access as possible.
The taste of Grace was earthy and sexy and Elara couldn’t get enough. She made out with Grace’s pussy as though it was her mouth. Kissing, licking, sucking, taking from her.
Grace’s moans were going crazy, but as much as Elara was doing this to please Grace, she was mostly devouring Grace to please herself. Because she wanted this pleasure more than anything. To be lost in the taste and smell of Grace.
And she did lose herself in it.
Elara felt Grace’s body begin to tense and her breathing become shorter and she knew she was close. Elara felt close as anything to her own orgasm without even being touched.
Eating Grace’s pussy with all her pent up enthusiasm was turning her on more than anything else ever had.
As Grace’s orgasm exploded into her mouth, a sweet gush of fluid flooded her mouth. She swallowed and lapped some more, pulling her face into Grace as tight as it would go. And just as she did that, her own orgasm crashed through her, wave after wave of release that she had needed so desperately.
Eventually she stopped licking when it was clear Grace was done and she just lay there, her face still buried between Grace’s legs, her mouth and cheek still resting against Grace’s pussy.
Grace didn’t move her away and neither of them spoke. She felt Grace’s hand reach to stroke her hair, as though giving her permission to stay there. So she did stay there. Breathing in the sweet scent of Grace’s pleasure. She felt tears beading in the corners of her eyes and blinked them away.
She would just lay still here some more.