Chapter 9
9
G et it together. This is just the next part of the performance.
Elara stabbed at her salad, keeping her expression neutral as the conversation hummed around the table. Grace was laughing at something Cate had said, her hazel eyes glowing in the candlelight. Focus, Elara. She’d let things go too far, lost control of the situation—and herself—in the heat of that kiss and everything that followed. But it was just an act. That’s all it was. A necessary step to make the charade convincing. The sex doesn’t mean anything. I needed to make it believable. It’s fine. Everything is under control.
Except nothing felt under control. She could still feel the warmth of Grace’s skin beneath her hands, the way her breath had hitched in the dark. The sweet sweet taste of Grace’s pussy. And that maddening look on Grace’s face afterward— that was the part Elara couldn’t stop replaying. As if Grace had seen through her, peeled back every layer she used to keep herself distant and cool.
She shifted in her seat, feeling the weight of it all pressing against her: the family, the expectations, the charade. It’s working, she reminded herself, glancing down the table. They were buying it. They believed she was finally doing what they wanted—settling down, finding someone. The family pressure had eased, and the conversation had moved to safer ground. So why do I feel like I’m unraveling?
Her father’s voice broke through her thoughts. “You’ve made a good choice with this one, Elara,” Victor said, leaning back in his chair with the satisfied smile of a man who believed he was right about everything. “I’m proud of you for finally making the effort to settle down.”
Proud. That word twisted like a knife in her gut. For years, all she had wanted was to hear it—and now that it was here, it felt hollow, meaningless. He’s not proud of me. He’s proud of this image I’ve created. Of the lie I’m living right in front of him.
She forced a smile and nodded, lifting her wine glass to her lips to buy herself time. A hand slipped over hers, squeezing gently. Elara peeked at Grace, who caught her eye, a soft question lingering in her gaze. Elara looked away quickly. Don’t, Grace. Don’t look at me like that. This isn’t real.
The sooner you accept that, the better.
Not noticing the turmoil raging inside of Elara, Victor smiled and began to ask about recent market trends. James quipped in bringing up expansion plants and real estate acquisitions. Elara sat straighter, glad to be back in safe territory.
She leaned forward. “We’ve been considering a new property on the East Coast,” Elara said smoothly, seizing control of the conversation. “The market is showing promise, especially for boutique experiences.”
The conversations whirled around her, excitement in the air as the family volleyed questions and remarks as if it were a sport. However, Elara couldn’t help but find her gaze constantly shifting over to Grace seated beside her.
She looked beautiful as she smiled and laughed at something Grandma Elle said. She leaned forward, the corset top of her muted pink dress offering Elara a glimpse at her ample breasts. Elara’s eyes fixed on Grace, remembering the way she moaned when Elara had sucked and teased her nipples. The blood began to rush to her head, the buzzing in her ears drowning out the conversation around her. She shook her head, attempting to shake off the heat crawling under her skin.
Dinner wound down with the slow crawl of conversation and the clinking of wine glasses. Elara barely tasted the final course, too busy calculating how soon she could make her exit without arousing suspicion.
She folded her napkin and placed it neatly by her plate, glancing down the table at her parents, who were still deep in conversation. Victor had a satisfied look on his face, as if he’d just made a wise investment. Margaret gave her an approving nod, the subtle kind she reserved for moments when Elara did exactly what was expected of her.
Perfectly executed. Everyone is happy. Mission accomplished.
So why did it feel like she couldn’t breathe?
Grace caught her eye again, the corner of her mouth quirking up as if to say, We survived.
Elara stood abruptly, her chair scraping back against the wood floor. “We’ll head back to the suite,” she announced, her voice cool and steady. She barely registered the murmured goodnights from her family as she turned on her heel and made her way toward the exit.
Grace scrambled to her feet, hurrying after her. As soon as they made it to the elevator, nudged her shoulder with her own. “Well, that wasn’t so bad, right?”
Elara gave a noncommittal hum. She didn’t trust herself to say more—not when her thoughts kept circling back to the warmth of Grace’s body beside hers, the way Grace had smiled at her, as if she saw right through everything.
When they stepped into the suite, the door clicked shut behind them, muffling the outside world. Elara exhaled slowly, shrugging off her coat and hanging it with deliberate care, each movement an attempt to steady herself.
Grace tossed her coat over the back of a chair and flopped onto the couch, kicking off her boots with a sigh. “We deserve a drink after that,” she said, her voice light and playful. She leaned over the small minibar and pulled out two miniature bottles of tequila. “Celebratory shot?”
Elara arched a brow, though a reluctant smile tugged at her lips. “Why not?” She took the offered bottle, her fingers brushing Grace’s in a way that felt far too deliberate, far too intimate.
They toasted silently and knocked back the shot. The burn slid down Elara’s throat, warming her in a way that had nothing to do with alcohol.
Grace coughed, laughing at her own inability to take a shot, and leaned back against the counter, grinning. “Personally, I think we’re nailing this.”
Elara chuckled softly, the sound rare enough to make Grace’s grin widen. “I suppose we are.”
They poured a second drink—whiskey this time at Elara’s insistence—no longer just a celebration, but a way to linger in the quiet, away from the family’s judgmental eyes. As they sipped, the conversation drifted into safer territory: complaints about Elara’s brother, Cate’s wild stories, and the sheer ridiculousness of Eleanor’s fur coat.
But despite the ease of the conversation, Elara’s thoughts kept straying to Grace—her laugh, the sparkle in her hazel eyes, the way she sprawled so casually, so comfortably, as if she belonged here.
Grace leaned a little closer, her voice dipping conspiratorially. “Admit it, you had fun tonight.”
Elara smirked. “Fun isn’t exactly how I’d describe it.”
“Come on,” Grace teased, nudging Elara’s knee with her own. “You love this.”
Elara’s breath caught, though she didn’t know why. The teasing, the laughter, the proximity—it all felt too easy, too natural. She hadn’t realized how close they’d gotten until now, their knees brushing, their hands resting within reach.
She tilted her glass, watching the amber liquid swirl inside. “It’s going well,” she murmured, though she wasn’t sure if she meant the evening or something else entirely.
Grace leaned in further, her knee pressing against Elara’s now, the warmth bleeding through their clothes. Her voice dropped to a playful whisper. “You know, I think we make a good team.”
And just like that, Elara was done for. Too close. Too warm. Too much.
Her heart thudded against her ribs as she looked at Grace—really looked at her—and suddenly the space between them felt like a fragile thread, ready to snap. She didn’t know who moved first, only that suddenly they were toe to toe, close enough that she could see the flecks of gold in Grace’s hazel eyes.
Elara swallowed, her throat dry from the alcohol. “Grace?—”
Grace’s smile softened, a quiet dare lingering in her gaze. “What?”
Elara didn’t answer. She couldn’t. Instead, she took one step closer, closing the remaining distance between them. There was nothing soft in this kiss, not tonight. As soon as their lips touched, Grace exploded. All of her light, her spontaneity, sparkled like a firecracker as she pulled Elara’s hair, making her gasp and deepen the kiss.
Elara’s world narrowed down to this moment, this kiss. She inhaled Grace’s sweet honey scent, filling her lungs as if she were drowning and Grace was her lifesaving air. The two stumbled back further, finding themselves pushed against that counter . Elara chuckled darkly as she remembered watching Grace squirm and open her legs in this very same spot last night. She began to kiss her way down Grace’s neck, biting and sucking at the crook, making Grace release that sweet moan she could not stop thinking about all day. But before she could attempt to reenact last’s night show, Grace leaned back, her eyes dark. “Bed. Now.”
Grace lightly pushed Elara backward, as she began to tear off Elara’s designer suit jacket. Her hands hurried as if she couldn’t undress her fast enough. Not one to hand over control, Elara leaned down and picked Grace up, turning toward the bedroom.
When she made it through the doorway, Elara kicked the bedroom door closed behind her as she gently placed Grace down. She ran her hands through Grace’s hair, and continued their exploration down until she found the laces at the back of the corset. Slowly, she turned Grace around and began to loosen the ties deftly. With each inch of skin exposed, she kissed and then gently bit her way down Grace’s spine, until at last the dress pooled down to the floor. Grace stood shaking, gasping, as Elara kneeled behind her and gently hooked her fingers under the lace thong’s waistband, and slowly tugged it down. She followed the trail of lace with yet more kisses and licks, paying close attention to every sensitive spot all the way down to Grace’s ankles.
Grace stepped out of her underwear, and turned back to face Elara, looking down with her lips parted and her eyes dark with desperation. She whispered, “Please.”
Elara smiled wolfishly as she gripped Grace’s thighs. “Please what? Use your words, Grace.”
Grace trembled as she stood bare, looking down at Elara fully clothed. “I…need… I…”
Elara leaned forward and kissed the side of Grace’s knee, making her moan. “Tell me what you need, Grace.” She nipped just above the knee on her inner thigh.
Grace threw her head back, her eyes fluttering as she moaned out, “You.”
Elara turned to kiss the other inner thigh, and demanded, eyes dark, “You need me to what?” Her wolfish smile turned wicked, as she nipped the same spot she had kissed.
Grace’s face had turned red, her face flickering from embarrassment and desire as she looked down at Elara, until she finally uttered, “Eat me out. Now. God. Please.”
Elara kissed her thigh once more, before pushing her back onto the bed and praising her, “Good girl, Grace.”
Grace gasped. “Fuck. That’s hot.”
Still on her knees, fully clothed, Elara moved forward between Grace’s legs and kissed her way to the apex of Grace’s thighs. She paused and looked up at Grace’s face as she slid two fingers inside her slick core, watching intently as Grace moaned and writhed beneath her. She felt her own pussy pool with desire as she leaned down, finally giving Grace what she asked for.
She pulled her fingers out for a minute or two while she went to work with her mouth. The same as last night, devouring Grace with a hunger that had overcome her in a way she had never expected.
Although she had always enjoyed giving oral sex, it had never been something that had taken over her completely as her hunger to devour Grace did.
Grace tasted sweeter than last night on her tongue. She pulled Grace’s thighs wider with her hands so she could get her face pressed in as close as possible as she worked with her mouth and tongue.
As Grace’s moans increased in intensity, she added her fingers back in, pushing three fingers easily inside Grace eliciting a deep guttural moan as they entered her.
She licked and suckled as she pumped her fingers inside of Grace with such fervor as if she could devour every ounce of her pleasure. When Grace began to clench around her fingers, she glanced up, wanting to soak in the way Grace’s face twisted in pleasure. She moaned against Grace and in between licks said, “I want to hear you scream when you come in my mouth.”
She began to pick up the pace, hooking her fingers and pumping faster as she sucked Grace’s clitoris deep into her mouth and massaged it with her tongue. She felt Grace’s clitoris swelling in her mouth and that beautiful feeling lodged in her brain. Grace began to shake and finally screamed out in pleasure as she came with another sweet gush. Elara continued pumping and suckling, wanting to consume every moment of her orgasm. When Grace finished, she slipped her fingers out and popped them in her own mouth as she looked into Grace’s eyes. She licked and sucked the taste of Grace from her own fingers and enjoyed every second of it. She didn’t want to waste a drop of Grace’s pleasure.
“Fuck, Elara,” Grace moaned at the sight and leaned forward, pulling Elara up off her knees and onto the bed with her. Her painted nails stood out stark against Elara’s dark shirt as she made swift work of the buttons, desperate to gain access to her skin. Elara shifted, pulling off her clothes quickly as she straddled Grace. Finally getting Elara naked, Grace tried to wriggle out from beneath her, but Elara just chuckled as she kept her pinned down.
Again, she huskily demanded, “Tell me what you want, Grace.”
Determined, Grace slid her hands up Elara’s thighs, as she said, “I want to taste you. Please.”
“And how do you want me, Grace?”
A wicked look crossed Grace’s face as she blushed. “I want you to ride my face until you come.”
Elara clutched Grace’s face, leaning down as she pulled her face closer and said, “good girl,” before kissing her. Grace flopped back onto the bed and pulled Elara forward. Elara, flooded with desire at the mere thought of riding Grace’s face, positioned herself over Grace’s beautiful mouth.
She lowered herself onto Grace’s eager tongue. She already felt so very close to orgasm, it was all she could do to hold off and watch as Grace with her eyes closed and her hands gripping Elara’s thighs, began to lick and suck Elara’s pussy attentively.
It had barely been a minute before Elara exploded into climax, coming in Grace’s sweet obedient mouth.
The pleasure of the release was more than Elara had imagined. She rode the wave of the orgasm for ages, gripping Grace’s hair as she did so. She watched Grace’s face intently, as Grace opened her eyes as she licked the remnants of Elara’s orgasm from her.
As Elara’s orgasm subsided, the one thought she was consumed by was wanting to take more of Grace. Elara moved to slide under the sheets with Grace, pulling her into a passionate kiss, tasting herself on Grace’s lips. Elara squeezed one of her big enticing nipples, making Grace moan into her mouth as she deepened the kiss. Elara continued her sweet torture as she placed her right thigh between Grace’s thighs, against her soaking pussy. Grace writhed against her, moaning and gasping with each pinch, each bite. Elara kept one hand busy teasing Grace’s nipple as she lowered her other hand pushing it between her thigh and Grace’s pussy and slipped her fingers easily inside Grace once more. She added a fourth finger this time and elicited a sweet sweet moan from Grace as she pushed four fingers inside of her. She could feel Grace opening up for her and it was the most incredible feeling in the world.
Elara began to fuck Grace with her fingers, whilst still pinning her down with her body. Elara lowered her mouth to Grace’s other pert nipple, sucking and biting, keeping Grace on the edge of pleasure and pain. Grace’s nipples were simply delightful. They felt incredibly similar to the way Grace’s lovely clitoris felt in Elara’s mouth. Both were experiences Elara would never forget.
Seconds later, Grace came once more, her orgasm ripping through her as she screamed out in ecstasy.
Elara watched, rapt as she rode the last waves of Grace’s climax with her fingers still deep inside her. She felt Grace melt, her body limp from exhaustion and pleasure. Elara kissed her temple, as she slowly slid her fingers out of her and drew her into her arms. “You okay?”
Eyes still closed, Grace murmured, “Mmmmm. Great.”
Elara’s face broke into a smile. “Can I get you anything? Water maybe?”
Grace croaked out, “Water would be nice.”
Elara slipped out of bed and quickly returned with two bottles of water. She slipped back under the covers as she tried to hand Grace the bottle. Grace reached out, eyes still mostly closed and head flat against the mattress.
Elara chuckled. “You have to sit up to drink water. I can’t have you choking and dying, after all.”
Grace’s face broke into a grin as she pushed herself up on one elbow, sipping from the open water bottle. After she nearly drained half the bottle in one go, Grace handed the bottle back, and laid her head down on the pillow.
She smiled sleepily as she watched Elara place the bottles on the nightstand. “At least I’d die happy.”
Elara laughed, genuinely and wholeheartedly, as she snuggled in closer. Grace’s eyes flew open, her face full of pleasure and joy. Elara moved in, pulling Grace toward her and cradling her. The room was quiet, wrapped in the dim glow of the bedside lamp. The sheets rustled as Grace shifted, turning onto her side to face Elara. For a moment, neither of them spoke. Their breathing was still uneven, tangled like the blankets around their legs.
Grace’s voice was soft when she finally broke the silence. “Your dad said he’s proud of you.”
Elara stiffened, the weight of those words pressing down on her. “Did he?” she murmured, trying to keep her voice light, as if it didn’t matter.
“Yeah.” Grace’s fingers traced lazy patterns on Elara’s arm, her touch gentle, hesitant. “I think it’s the first time I’ve ever heard someone say that to you.”
Elara let out a low, humorless laugh. “That makes two of us.” She closed her eyes for a beat, trying to smother the ache that came with those words. “It only took forty-five years and a fake girlfriend to make it happen.”
Grace’s hand stilled, resting warm against Elara’s skin. “It doesn’t have to be fake, though.” She said it quietly, not an accusation—just a thought floating in the space between them.
Elara opened her eyes, turning her head on the pillow to look at Grace. “And what exactly am I supposed to be proud of?” she asked, a hint of bitterness creeping in despite herself. “That I’ve built a business my family only acknowledges when it suits them? That they’ll approve of me, but only as long as I play by their rules?”
Grace frowned, her fingers brushing along Elara’s arm again in quiet reassurance. “That’s not what I meant. You’ve built something incredible. You’ve done it on your own terms, even when they didn’t support you.” She paused, biting her bottom lip. “You’re amazing, Elara. I mean it.”
Elara stared at her, something unfamiliar blooming in her chest. Grace’s words—simple and unpolished—landed with more weight than anything her family had ever said.
But Elara wasn’t used to praise that felt...real. Not like this.
She shifted closer, her hand brushing Grace’s waist under the covers. “What about you?” Elara asked, her voice low and curious. “What’s your dream, Grace? Because I know it can’t be...this.” She gestured vaguely toward the suite, meaning the job, the ruse, the life of being her assistant.
Grace gave a small, breathy laugh. “Definitely not this,” she admitted. “No offense.”
“None taken.” Elara’s lips twitched in a rare, teasing smile. “So? What’s the plan?”
Grace hesitated for a moment, as if saying the words out loud would make them too real. “I want to open a thrift shop,” she said, her voice small but steady. “A really good one. Like, curated stuff. Vintage finds. Weird, interesting pieces—stuff people didn’t know they needed until they saw it.”
Elara raised a brow. “A thrift shop?”
Grace shrugged. “I know it sounds silly?—”
“It doesn’t,” Elara cut in, her tone surprisingly gentle. “It sounds...like you.”
Grace smiled, a little shy, but there was still an undercurrent of uncertainty in her expression. “The problem is, I have no clue how to run a business. I thought maybe working with you would teach me, you know? How to be organized, how to actually make something work.”
Elara let out a soft chuckle. “You do realize you picked the least patient person on earth to learn from, right?”
Grace grinned. “Yeah. But you’re not all bad.”
Elara shook her head, amused. “Not exactly a glowing review.”
They both fell silent for a moment, the humor fading into something quieter, more meaningful. Elara shifted again, propping herself on one elbow so she could see Grace more clearly. “Why didn’t you tell me that before? About the thrift shop?”
Grace shrugged, her gaze dropping to the sheet between them. “I don’t know. I guess...I didn’t think you’d care. Or maybe I was scared you’d think it was stupid.”
Elara reached out, tucking a strand of Grace’s hair behind her ear. “It’s not stupid,” she murmured, her voice soft. “And I do care.”
For a moment, the weight of the conversation hung between them—Elara letting someone in, truly in, for the first time in a long time, and Grace realizing that maybe, just maybe, Elara wasn’t as unreachable as she seemed.
Elara traced her thumb along the curve of Grace’s jaw, a gesture so uncharacteristically gentle it made Grace’s breath hitch. “I think you could do it,” Elara said quietly. “The thrift shop. I think you’d be great at it.”
Grace’s smile was slow, tentative. “Yeah?”
Elara gave a small nod. “Yeah.”
Their gazes locked, and for once, there were no walls between them. Just two people, tangled up in sheets and dreams, finally starting to see each other clearly.
The two talked late into the night, asking tentative questions about each other’s lives, their likes and dislikes, until sleep tugged them gently down into the world of dreams.