16. Ella

Chapter 16

Ella

"What do you think of this?" I hold up the black lace teddy against my torso and imagine what it will look like later tonight. I turn to Gale, who's always had a better eye for fashion, awaiting her honest opinion. The price tag taunts me, reminding me of the years spent pinching pennies and the guilt that comes with splurging on something so frivolous, something only Grant will ever see.

"It will look stunning on you, Ella," Gale exclaims, her eyes scanning the racks of lingerie with enthusiasm. She carefully plucks out the most ostentatious and provocative pieces, holding them up for me to see. "Grant has billions, why not indulge in something he can appreciate?"

"You're right. Maybe if I distract him with something over-the-top sexy, he'll confess his feelings before I humiliate myself by saying it first," I confess, worried that my stupid games may drive us further apart. He spent the night tossing and turning after I showed him those Brooklyn listings and I fear I've made things worse by ignoring his texts.

"You can't say it first, girl," Gale warns, her voice laced with both concern and playfulness.

I hesitate, knowing she may be right. We're in the same boat, experience-wise, and her first real relationship isn't exactly traditional. But I can't help but wonder if this situation is different. Two men at the same time shouldn't count as two relationships.

"What about these?" I ask, holding up a pair of black fishnet stockings and waving them in front of me. "This might create an interesting night."

Gale's brows furrow with curiosity as she leans in closer for a better look. "What will you wear them with?"

A mischievous smile tugs at my lips, and I hold back a laugh. "Nothing at all." I wink slyly. "I've got an idea." The possibilities swirl through my mind, each one filthier than the last. Tonight's special, and I want to ensure it's anything but boring.

On my way, I stare at the many incoming and unanswered texts that Grant has left since the morning. His frustration is evident, but so is mine. I'm not cut out to be a sugar baby or mistress. Those women are elegant, sophisticated and able to compartmentalize their feelings to protect their hearts. I'm not that savvy. I've wanted Grant for so long, it's becoming too difficult to pretend I'm in a friends-with-benefits situation. Grant Whitlock is my soulmate. I know he's worried about the twenty years between us, but that means nothing to me. The heart wants what it wants.

Me: Hello Mr. Whitlock. I've been missing you all day.

Grant: Oh my God, baby. You are in so much trouble.

Me: I'll make it up to you. I promise.

Grant: I'm on my way home. I'll see you soon.

My heart races in my chest, a wild and uncontrollable beat that matches the adrenaline coursing through my body. I reach out to touch the screen, my fingers trembling with a mix of anticipation and anxiety. Tonight will alter the course of my life. I'll either soar on cloud nine or be crushed into oblivion.

With only a few precious moments to spare, I hurry home and rush into the shower. The warm water cascades over my skin, soothing and refreshing as I scrub away the day. After drying off, I smooth on some scented moisturizer before slipping into my new pair of black fishnets. It's a daring choice, but as I stand in front of the mirror admiring the way the delicate fabric clings to my curves and accentuates my legs, a surge of confidence washes over me. With nothing else on but these fishnets, I make my grand entrance into the living room, hoping I don't fall flat on my face and rip my stockings.

* * *

Grant:

There's no escaping the undeniable truth any longer. My heart belongs to Ella March. I can't pinpoint exactly when this realization hit me, but the past two weeks have only served to reinforce what I've always known deep down. She has consumed my thoughts and every inch of my being, like a sweet poison that I can't resist.

"Ella!" I call her name as soon as I walk in the door, eager to see her beautiful face and hold her in my arms.

As my eyes adjust to the dimmed lights, I hear Ella's voice, drawing my attention to the top of the stairs. The sun sets behind her, casting a golden halo around her silhouette and making it difficult to see what she's wearing. As I ascend the steps to the landing, my breath catches at the sight of her.

She stands before me, clad in nothing but a pair of black fishnet stockings, her body a work of art. The curves and lines of her figure are framed by the interwoven pattern, creating a stunning contrast. My eyes roam over her, taking in every detail—from the gentle slope of her waist to the swell of her hips. It's a sight both gorgeous and depraved, stirring something deep within me. This is the most erotic thing I've ever seen.

"Hello, Mr. Whitlock." Ella beckons me closer, curling her finger seductively as I sprint up the stairs, stripping as I climb. By the time I reach her, my heart is beating so fast, I silently pray to live long enough to enjoy this gift.

"Ella, you are magnificent. You take my breath away." With a surge of excitement, I wrap my arms around her and eagerly sweep her off her feet, carrying her into the bedroom. As I lay her down on the mattress, I am overcome by a rush of emotions—desire, love, adoration—all for this incredible woman in front of me.

"Do you like my stockings?" Ella smiles and pretends to crawl away, taunting me by wiggling her ass.

My lovesick eyes devour every inch of her perfect body—her supple breasts, tight nipples, cinched waist, round ass and the glistening pussy clearly visible through her stockings. What the hell have I ever done to deserve this?

"You look good enough to eat." I storm after her onto the bed, hastily ripping off her stockings with a forceful tug that tears the delicate fabric like tissue paper. My eager hands greedily grasp at the curves of her ass, while my head dips down to taste the slick wetness between her thighs.

"Grant!" Ella's body quivers and trembles with pleasure as she whimpers apologies between moans. Her thighs shake, losing strength as her hips buck uncontrollably, my tongue continuing its relentless strokes against her clit.

I gently press her torso down and her head falls onto the pillow in front of her. She holds on tightly, looking over her shoulder to watch me pleasure her dripping core while sobbing my name. The sound is music to my ears. Losing herself in the ecstasy of the moment, her surrender is a sight to behold, one that will be etched into my memory for years to come.

The scent of her arousal fills the air. The sheets beneath us are rumpled and damp from our heated bodies. My fingers grip her hips firmly, holding her in place as I slowly slip my cock between her folds. With labored breaths and unchecked avarice, I watch it slide between her slick flesh, testing the limits of my patience.

"You frightened me today. I thought I might lose you." My voice cracks as I caress her hips and flip her onto her back. Her eyes widen with surprise, then slowly close as I cover her with my body and crush my lips to hers. "I'm not cut out for casual relationships, sweetheart. I don't want an arrangement—I want you. All of you, every day and night. I've thought about you for years and the last two weeks have only increased my obsession."

"Obsession?" As Ella circles her arms around my neck, I feel the heat of her body against mine. It's so intoxicating, I can't contain my desire.

When our lips meet again, I thrust inside her, filling her completely until our bodies meld together in perfect rhythm. A deep, guttural growl echoes from deep within me as my lust for Ella intensifies and consumes me. My mind blurs with raw, animalistic longing and I know I won't hold on for long.

"I'm so obsessed with you. I adore you, Ella. I want you to be mine. Be mine, baby. All mine."

She has no time to respond. I plunge deep, filling every inch as I pull out and repeat the motion, driven by madness.

"Do want me to be your girlfriend?" Ella whimpers, moaning with unchecked lust as I continue to thrust, pushing her body to the limits.

I know she's exhausted, but her body responds eagerly to every movement, meeting my thrusts, matching my friction and getting closer and closer to the edge.

"No, my love. I want you to be my wife." The confession emerges much easier than I expected.

Her eyes meet mine, wide with wonder and dark with desire. With gazes locked, our hands clasp in a tight grip as our bodies surrender to the unstoppable force that brought us together.

"Do you love me?" Ella quietly gasps, struggling to catch her breath as her body trembles beneath me.

I nod and gently kiss her lips. "I love you. I've loved you from the start."

Ella leans towards me, her breath warm against my skin as she softly places her lips on my chin. "I've been wanting to tell you this for so long, Grant," she whispers. "I love you."