by Lila Younger
The elevator door opens and we get out right into the penthouse apartment. It’s absolutely breathtaking. The space is open and airy, and the bright lights of L.A. flash and twinkle in the floor to ceiling windows. The furniture is modern, lots of glass and gray, and I wonder just how much of it is his personal touch. It looks almost like a show home more than anything else. There’s a double sided fireplace and a floating wall that separates out the living room from the formal dining, and a gigantic kitchen flows along one wall. Marble countertops complement the light gray walls and stainless steel appliances.
“Did you want a drink or anything like that?” he asks a bit stiffly.
I guess I am technically invading his personal space. I wonder how many women have come in here, or if maybe he would see them somewhere else instead.
“I’m actually pretty tired,” I admit.
“Then I’ll bring your stuff to your room.” He led the way down a hallway. “This one’s mine, and you can have this one.”
He opened the door to a spacious guest bedroom that’s twice the size of my old one. I drop my purse on the bed and just take it all in as Eli lays the suitcase at the foot of the bed for me. Even the attached bathroom ensuite is bigger than it. I turn around, impressed by the dazzling chrome fixtures and floor to ceiling tile. A large soaker tub beckoned to me in the far corner, and soft, fluffy towels stood ready to envelop me in cozy warmth.
“This is like staying at a hotel,” I breathe.
“I want this to be as enjoyable for you as possible,” Eli says.
His eyes flicker over to mine, and my heart skips a beat. We’re all alone in his penthouse. There’s no telling what he could do to me, and if I could even put up a fight.
“Are you nervous?” he asks, amused. “I’m not going to bite.”
“No, but you’re the kind of guy to take what he wants,” I say shakily. My body feels hot and tingly.
“Not if she doesn’t want to,” he says, closing the distance between us. “Do you not want to?”
His breath is warm on me, and he touches my cheek softly. It shouldn’t affect me so, but the simple gesture feels so intimate. I try to take a deep breath, regain some control over the situation.
“I.. I don’t know,” I admit.
Eli’s close, so close to me that I’m almost dizzy with desire.
“I’m going to kiss you Grace,” he says huskily, and the simple statement sends a thrill straight down to my pussy.
He closes the distance between us, his lips pressing against my own. I freeze for a moment, and then my body responds on its own, my lips parting for his tongue. It feels good, so good, that I don’t know if I could handle it. Want courses through my veins, butterflies exploding in my stomach as he holds onto me, his arms keeping me upright. I’m tasting him, and he tastes good, addictive. I want more, my tongue sweeping into his mouth too. How could one kiss do so much to me? Desire overwhelms me as his hand drifts down to rest on my ass, his other one cradling my neck to deepen our kiss further. I know I should stop this, break the kiss before it goes further, but I don’t want to listen to that voice in my head. I just want to feel more, even as my heart threatened to crash right through my chest.
When we part, I can see the lust in his eyes, making those blue eyes dark and dangerous. Here was my chance to go, but truth be told, I didn’t want to. Fear, desire, it all mixed up inside me into a potent combination. Eli pins me up against the wall.
“I’m going to kiss you again,” he says, making my legs wobble, “And this time, I’m not going to stop.”
He waits for me to tell him no, but I don’t.
This time the kiss is rough and greedy, taking everything he wanted from me. I open my lips, offer it up to him. I let the smell of him wash over me, take over my senses as we kiss. His arms slide down my curves, press me up against his cock. I wrap my own arms around him, holding tightly as I kiss him right back. All the pent up need I have for Eli explodes at once. He breaks the kiss, only to rain more down across my jaw, down my neck, biting and making me whimper and gasp. His tongue feels hot and wet as it sweeps over my pulse, and I let out a soft moan as his teeth graze my skin.
His hand reaches up to palm my left breast, the nipples budding under his fingertips. I’m wearing a lace bralette, and I can feel every touch as he pinches through the fabric of my t-shirt. I gasp as pleasure skips through me, coiling tightly in my pussy. His fingers keep moving though, across my stomach down to the hem of my skirt. I know I should stop him, but I can’t do it. His finger traces over my inner thigh, leaving a trail of fire, and then he’s at my panties, stroking me with one finger.
“You’re soaked,” he murmurs, smiling against my neck. “Absolutely soaking wet for me.”
His finger rests against my swollen pussy, and oh god, I rocked my hips toward him, begging for more. I can feel his touch ghost over my clit, the little bundle of need washing away all coherent thought. How could he move so expertly over me like this? This is nothing like the fumbling of a high school boy.
Laughing, Eli pushes the fabric of my panties aside. His finger dips into my pussy, parting my tight folds before lifting up and rubbing my clit at last. My eyes widen with shock at the intensity of the pleasure he unleashes inside of me. His fingers dip into me again, pushing apart my pussy until they press against my entrance. It’s a tight fit, but he squeezes one in.
“Grace, you’re so goddamn tight,” he pants against me. “Fuck, I might not even fit.”
Eli’s lips meet mine again, and we’re kissing, desperate and quick. He grinds his cock against my leg, a monster tool that sparks fear in me for a moment until he pushes a second finger inside of me. He thrusts them in and out, a rapid rhythm that reduces me to senseless pleasure. My pussy clenches against the intrusion as he inserts a third finger, trying to stretch me wide. His fingers curl, hitting the perfect spot inside of me that makes me quiver with sensation. My hips rock against his hand, compelled on instinct to continue increasing the feeling he gives me. I can feel something inside of me building up, higher and higher, and I clutch onto his shoulder tightly.
“Eli,” I gaps. “Eli, I’m close-I’m close-”
“Come for me Grace,” he growls. “Do it.”
“I can’t,” I whimper softly. “I-I can’t. I-Ohhhhhhh!”
My orgasm crashes through me without warning, and I come with a scream. Violent quakes radiate through my body, pleasure so intense that my vision turns momentarily black. I struggle to breathe, to say anything as I experience my orgasm for the very first time. If it wasn’t for Eli between my legs, I wouldn’t be standing up right now. I go limp, trying to figure out all these feelings swirling through me. He’s working his belt buckle, and a part of me wants to throw everything out the window when my phone begins to ring.
“Ignore it,” Eli says.
“I can’t. That’s my mom’s ringtone, and I told her that I had urgent news to tell her just a while ago. If I don’t pick up, she’ll assume the worst.”
He raises one perfect brow.
“Grace, you’re an adult. You’re not beholden to anyone,” he says.
“You don’t understand what’s going on with my family. I have to take it.”
I draw in a shaky breath, ducking under his arm and running to where I’d left my purse. I’m glad for the excuse to take the call, no matter how flimsy, because I was about to make a major mistake. I click on the call and turn away from Eli, pushing the hem of my skirt back down over my hips.
“Mom? Hey,” I say. I know Eli’s frustrated, but I’m not worried about him doing something. He isn’t that kind of person. “How’s it going?”
She fills me in about Lydia as he leaves. I’m grateful for the call, because who knows how much further we would have gotten. One thing’s for sure. I’ll have to be on my guard while I’m staying here with Eli. Not against him, but against myself. Because I’m already thinking about the taste of his lips, the feel of his cock and just how badly I want him.
Chapter 7
Eli
The engagement party is this Sunday at a hot new eatery, L’Aubergine. We’ve booked the entire place. Although it was on such short notice, almost fifty people are attending, mostly from my side. Business associates, the curious, and ‘friends’ have all come out of the woodwork. My grandfather will be making an appearance too, and I hope that he will believe our relationship to be true. He sounded suspicious on the phone, and I don’t blame him, given my reaction when I left the estate. But he’s the one who’s making me marry on a deadline, so he can’t be too surprised when I tell him that I’ve proposed to a woman.
Grace has invited a few friends, some of her coworkers, and of course her family members. There’s to be quite a few of them, from what I understand. It’s been a while since I’ve had to meet the parents, and I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t on edge. Grace tells me that she’s very close to her family, and it was difficult for her to break the news. I want them to believe in us, because if there’s someone who could change her mind, I think it would be her mother. I’m definitely not worried about impressing them. Why would I be?
We spend most of the morning taking pictures around the city to put up for the couples slideshow tonight, and then it’s time to get ready. I wear a blue shirt and a suit, although I skip the tie. It’s certainly not a formal event, but I’ve been informed by Rich that there will be pictures taken and I’ll be expected to look nice. Besides, it’s not like I have a lot of other options outside of work wear. I leave my room and knock on Grace’s door.
“One sec,” she calls out breathlessly.
A moment later, she opens the door. She’s in a beautiful off the shoulder dress, something white and lacy that ends mid-thigh. It’s sexy, hugging her perfect breasts and ass. Her skin is sun kissed, and her hair falls in loose waves over her bare shoulders. She pushes her hair behind her.
“What do you think?” she asks.
“You look beautiful,” I tell her. “Like a bride.”
“Well, I’m going to be one,” she says.
“Yes you are.”
Our eyes lock together and a surge of possessiveness comes over me. I know that she still wants me, as much as I want her. I can tell in her glances, in the way she blushes and how she almost jumps when I’m near. She tries to keep some space between us, not because she doesn’t want me close, but because she’s afraid she can’t keep fighting it otherwise. God knows I’m having a hell of a time trying to. Each time I see her, I think of the way she screams my name, her pussy clenching down tight on my hand, the taste of her honey when she finished. But I’m not about to push for something when a woman’s said no. I might be heartless, but I’m not an asshole.
“We should head out,” I say roughly.
“Good idea,” she says, slipping past me with her bag. “I don’t want to be late to my own party.”
The drive over to the restaurant is short. I place my hand on her thigh, something that I’ve been doing now since the first time I drove her home. I love the warmth of her soft skin, to be able to touch her at least in some way that doesn’t have her running from me. The fact that we’re alone, and there’s no one to prove our relationship to isn’t brought up. I have to park on the street, as the restaurant’s in a busy neighborhood full of bars, galleries and shops. There are tables laid out in front of every restaurant, and tons of people are drinking and socializing in the brisk evening.
“Remember, my grandfather is going to try and trip you up,” I tell her as we walk up. Her arm is looped in mine. “He doesn’t buy the relationship, not yet. Tonight’s our chance to prove him wrong.”
“What if he doesn’t believe you, even after marriage?”
“He’s already signed his side of the contract, so it’s binding. It just needs to take effect. I suppose he could change it if he wanted to, but since I’ve done nothing to invalidate it, and he didn’t specifically say it had to be a genuine relationship, I doubt that he’s going to contest the contract.”
“He sounds like a difficult man,” she murmurs.
“Imagine living with him,” I say back. “It’s not something a four year old boy can get used to quickly, especially after losing both of my parents. It’s a good thing Martha was there, otherwise I think I’d have turned out more fucked up than I am now.”
“You avoid building relationship with anyone, and the only thing you do is work,” she points out. “I think enough damage has been done.”
Grace pauses.
“Do you think maybe the whole marriage thing is his way of righting that wrong? Maybe he’s trying to help you find some work-life balance. I guess that does sound pretty farfetched, doesn’t it?”
“Funny enough, he said the same thing. But Grandfather is a distant, calculating old man, and I doubt he loves me. I’m his heir, a Copeland by blood, but that’s the extent of our relationship. There’s no way he’s doing this to for my benefit.”
I shake my head at the very idea.
“No, he just wants have his way one more time before he gives it all up.”
We arrive at L’Aubergine. Through the big glass windows, I can make out long farmhouse tables, set out for the party tonight. Already it’s almost full to capacity, and guests are mingling and chatting and drinking. I pull open the heavy wooden door for Grace, and she walks through. A cheer goes up in the room when they see it’s her, and we’re pretty much mobbed by the crowd. I worry that maybe it’s too much for Grace, but she mingles with everyone amazingly, smiling and laughing and telling stories about us so believable that I forget almost none of it is true. She even charms grandfather, as much as he could be charmed. He wasn’t scowling, which I took to be a good sign. And of course, dear old Martha was thrilled.
She lights up the room, and her joy so infectious that my face hurts from smiling. But I don’t want to stop. In fact, I don’t ever want to stop. Being around Grace feels damn good, sex or no sex.
Fuck. Don’t go there Copeland.
“I’m going to get us a drink,” I whisper in Grace’s ear before I depart.
At the bar, I gulp down two fingers of whiskey, the alcohol settling in my empty stomach. It’s not enough to make me drunk, but it does steady me. Since Grace is only nineteen, I bring back a Sprite, her soda of choice. She accepts it easily, and then turns towards the couple beside her.
“Dad, Mom, this is Eli Copeland, my fiancé,” she says. “Eli, these are my parents, Norman and Anna.”
I hold out my hand. At first glance, I would say that Grace resembles her mother the most. Both are blonde and petite.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you both. Grace has told me a lot about you two.”
“The pleasure is all mine,” Anna replies. She shoots a glance at Norman, then elbows him.
“What?” her dad mutters. “Don’t think I haven’t read the news. He’s a playboy through and through, and not fit for my daughter.”
I guess that he’s not as willing to overlook the speed of our engagement as Anna is.
“The news writes what they think will get people’s attention,” I say firmly. “The fact is, Grace is the only woman for me. That’s why we’re getting married.”
“Where’s Lydia at?” Grace asks. If she notices her father’s attitude, she doesn’t give a hint of it. “Did she stay home?”
“No, I think she’s in the bathroom. She had chemo this morning before we came. We tried to convince her to stay home, but she really wanted to be here. She has leukemia,” Anna explains to me. “It’s the second time, and it’s pretty aggressive.”
“Anna!” Norman says, furrowing his brow.
“What? He’s going to be family. I’m sure Grace has already told him about it.”
“She has. Still, it must be difficult.”
“Lydia is strong,” her father retorts. “She’s going to be just fine.”
“Of course. However, I can get a referral from one of the top specialists in the country for her. As you say, we’re going to be
family, and I’m willing to do whatever it takes if it ensures Lydia makes a full recovery.”
Her parents’ eyes widen, and Grace turns towards me with surprise. I see that she wants to protest, but she can’t. Instead, she nods gratefully.
“That’s right. Eli can make anything happen,” she says.
We talk a little while longer, and then her parents go to check on Lydia. Grace whips around to face me, arms crossed.
“You didn’t have to do that,” she says quietly. “I’m sure her current doctors are just fine.”
“I wanted to. She matters greatly to you, and that’s reason enough for me to try.”
She regards me suspiciously.
“I’m still not going to sleep with you.”
“I know that. But I do have a heart Grace. I’m not going to let someone suffer through cancer if it’s within my ability to try and help. Do you really think otherwise about me?”
She softens slightly.
“Well, thank you then,” she says, offering up her sweet smile.
“There are other ways you can thank me,” I say, my voice low.
“Somehow I expected you’d say that,” she says. “Come on, I want you to meet my best friend.”
I let go for the moment, though I don’t know how much longer I can last.
Not much, apparently, because as soon as we get into the car after the party, my lips are on hers. She tastes sweet, and her lips are pillowy soft as they open for my tongue. She grabs onto fistfuls of my shirt, as though to keep me from floating away. Not that I’ll ever leave. I inhale her soft scent, one that I associate with Grace intimately, and my hand squeezes her breast tightly. My cock throbs with lust, and I don’t want to stop kissing her, but I’m not about to do this on the busy street. The only thing that lets me break away from her lips is the knowledge that we’ll be home, and then I’ll have her at last.
