Unbind (Alchemy #6)

by Elodie Hart

‘Do they spank you?’ I ask her tentatively. ‘Max, yes, a lot. Dex sometimes, when Max tells him to. And I don’t like pain either. You should see me getting waxed. I’m pathetic. But being put over Max’s knee like a naughty girl has me practically coming there and then—I fucking love it. I can’t get enough of it.’ ‘Me neither,’ Maddy offers. ‘Spreadsheet spanked me that first time he fucked me, at Slave Night, and he practically had to peel me off the ceiling. I fucking loved it.’ She turns to me. ‘Think about it. I bet Adam would be so good at it. Doesn’t it turn you on, imagining him putting you over his knee or getting you on all fours, and then peeling down your panties and spanking you while he finger fucks you? Imagine how serious he’d look. I’d put money on him being a natural disciplinarian.’ Oh my sweet baby Jesus. I squirm in my seat as Gen lets out an amused snort. How is it that Maddy’s characteristically crude words have just painted such a scorching hot image? She’s totally nailed it. Adam Wright, disciplinarian. I can feel his hands on me, stinging me, while those long fingers pushed inside me.

I need this from him.

‘I hear orgasms are good for quality of sleep,’ she says now, her voice soft and seductive, and I roll my eyes, because if I think I stand a chance against this assault on my heart and my cock, then I’m sorely mistaken. ‘Is that so.’ I fondle the top button of her pyjamas and gaze down at her from my position perched on my elbow.

‘Maybe I should tuck you in in the spare room,’ I say sternly. ‘That’s never stopped you and your monster hard-on from seeking me out before.’ I burst out laughing. ‘Touché, sweetheart. Touché.’

A stronger man would walk away, would never have started anything in the first place. He would have left Nat alone. He wouldn’t have sunk to seducing her, to gaining her trust. But I did. And I’m not strong enough to walk away.

‘Anyway,’ Max continues blithely, ‘Athena was Anton’s EA. Lovely girl, and sometimes Anton shared her with me like the good mate he is. She’s a spectacular fuck.’ ‘I took the best they had to offer for myself,’ Anton says, smug bastard. ‘Obviously. And she was worth every penny.’ He gives his friend a sly sideways look. ‘That’s why, when you take bonuses into account, I paid her more than I ever paid Max.’ Gabe, Dex and I fall about laughing at the look of utter disgust on Max’s face, but he recovers well.

‘Nat, Nat, Nat,’ I murmur. ‘What a very soaked girl you are.’ She groans. ‘Hurry up, for god’s sake.’ ‘Whatever you say, princess.’ My tone may be amused, but I’m deadly serious. Whatever this beautiful woman wants, she gets. Especially if it’s my dick buried deep inside her body.

‘Sweetheart, I—’ I begin. ‘Dear God, you’re so beautiful. Feel what you do to me. Can you feel it?’ I mean, of course, the impossible hardness of my cock as it swells. As I hold still against her and spill and spill and spill. But as I collapse over her, wrapping my arms around her stomach and shoulders before hauling her up against me, it strikes me that she can’t possibly comprehend the enormity of what she does to me.

‘Thanks,’ I murmur, letting my eyes drift closed. ‘Just give me an hour and then we can get going.’

I hear a little laugh. She brushes my hair off my face before placing a damp washcloth over my forehead—she must have grabbed it from the bathroom. It feels wonderfully cool, and I hum my appreciation. ‘You’re not going anywhere, mister,’ she whispers. ‘Your only job today is to rest and get better. Okay?’ I frown, and the washcloth shifts. ‘But what about…’ ‘Nothing.’ She readjusts the washcloth and gently presses down on it with her hand. ‘Today we’re chilling. I’ll cancel the pub.’

I take advantage of her apparent focus to slowly extract my phone from where I’ve hidden it between the sofa cushions. ‘Put that down,’ she says without looking up. ‘I’m just checking the weather,’ I lie. ‘Anyway, I’m fine.’ ’Spoiler: it’s going to be cold and rainy all day. And you need to rest. Put it away.’ The strength of my sigh makes her laugh. ‘Isn’t it annoying when you feel fine but a certain person keeps fussing over you like you’re on death’s door?’ she asks me with a perky smile. Checkmate to her. ‘Yeah. It certainly is,’ I grit out.

We smirk at each other. ‘I think you’ll live,’ she pronounces, setting her laptop on the floor. ‘I’ll be right back. I want to make sure he’s putting ginger and lemongrass in it.’ She pauses at the door and beams at me. ‘I’ll be back in a second to breathe down your neck once more. Enjoy your reprieve.’ I roll my eyes at her departing back. How the tables have turned. She’s definitely milking this situation to her full advantage.

Carefully, she gets to her feet again and picks up a light mahogany chair from its place in front of the antique roll-top desk. She proceeds to set it next to me and sit on it, placing my tray on her lap. I blink at her. ‘What are you doing? I’m ill, not totally incompetent.’ ‘You need to learn,’ she says softly, ‘that there are people in this world who will take care of you because they can think of nothing more they’d rather do. Open.’ I’m pretty sure the word open should be preserved for me, for my most commanding Bedroom Voice, and that it should refer to her long, slim legs and not my mouth. Way to make me feel like a ninety-year-old invalid.

Nevertheless, I open my mouth and allow her to spoon some clear, fragrant broth in, mainly because her face is so pretty and her expression so earnest that I’d rather die than reject her

sweet gesture and risk hurting her feelings. She’s in leggings and a dusky pink sweater that’s seen better days, her hair pulled back and her face makeup free. She looks like an angel sent to have mercy on the undeserving. ‘If you’re going to do the nurse thing,’ I quip, ‘we should at least get you a proper costume.’ She shakes her head at me and refills the spoon. ‘Very fu...

She hesitates and puts the spoon down on the tray. ‘I’ve been getting the distinct impression that you’re uncomfortable having me look after you.’ ‘I’m not uncomfortable,’ I hasten to reassure her. ‘I just feel guilty. It’s shitty for you. We’ve only been together for a few weeks—you didn’t sign up for this. And you’re missing work. I look like shit, and I’m all sweaty and snotty and revolting. You should beat a hasty retreat and come back when I’m my usual, sexy self again.’ I wink at her, but she doesn’t rise.

‘You really don’t get it,’ she says, picking up the linen napkin from the tray and twisting it in her hands. ‘Do you?’ ‘Get what?’ I ask. ‘I don’t want to be anywhere else.’ She clears her throat self-consciously. ‘I just want to be here with you, in any capacity.’ Her beautiful, expressive eyes keep flitting from my face to the napkin she’s wrecking. ‘I’d rather be here than at work, missing you. And I’d definitely rather be here if you’re ill with only paid employees to look after you.’ My heart contracts painfully at her words, but she keeps speaking. ‘Listen to me. I care about you, you idiot. I’ll take you any way I can get you, and there’s no way on earth I’d leave you when you were ill. I hate that you’re feeling crap, and I’m going to do everything I can to make it all the slightest bit less grim for you. Do you understand what I’m saying?’

She has her hands on my face when she says, ‘Adam. This is really important. I know you didn’t have anyone to look out for you when you were younger, and it makes me so fucking furious that that’s your frame of reference. But this is what people do when

they care about each other. They look after each other because they want to. I promise you, there’s nowhere else I’d rather be today than right here with you. Oh, and you may be sweaty and snotty, but you still have my absolute favourite face. So stop trying to get rid of me, okay? Because I’m not going anywhere.’ Her lips are so soft when she brushes them lightly against mine. She holds my face, and I slide a hand around her neck as we stay like this for a moment. ‘I love having you here,’ I whisper, because it’s true. I may still be feeling like death warmed up, but the contentedness in my heart is real, and it’s complete. ‘Thank you for being you,’ I add, because that’s the crux of it. Somehow, against every single odd the universe has attempted to throw at us, I’ve met a woman who sees me. Who cares for the man I am today and forgives the man I used to be.

So when Nat sees me grinning at her mother and Adelaide positively beaming at me, I get the feeling that this will be a bombshell of epic proportions for her. Adelaide, it seems, is handling my appearance far better than her daughter. ‘Oh my God!’ she cries, coming towards me, her arms already outstretched. ‘How on earth are you here? Do you two know each other?’ ‘Hi, Adelaide,’ I say, opting for full-wattage charm as a master stroke of deflection. ‘You look fantastic.’ I allow her to envelop me in a hug whose genuine warmth has my throat constricting with emotion. While I’ve never forgotten her kindness, it’s only now hitting me how much of her compassion and empathy she’s passed onto her daughter. (The origin of Nat’s impressive feistiness I’m still unclear on.) ‘Oh, stop it,’ she trills, hitting me playfully on the arm and drawing back so she can look at me. ‘Look at you! So handsome! And looking so well! Goodness, it’s wonderful to see you thriving.’

‘Wow,’ Nat says, shaking her head. ‘Are you okay darling?’ Adelaide asks, leaning forward with concern. ‘Yeah.’ Nat’s voice is so low, so shaky, that her words are barely audible. ‘God, I had no idea. But I’m so, so glad he had you.’ Her bottom lip trembles on the you, and she presses her hand to her mouth. ‘Jesus, he had no one else. Thank God he had you.’ ‘Oh, my darling,’ Adelaide says, her voice tremoring. ‘Don’t worry. He had me. He had his fabulous lawyer. And that lovely man, Anton. We looked out for him.’

Jesus fuck, my eyes are misting. I give us about three minutes before we’re all holding hands around the table and openly weeping. ‘Amen to that,’ Nat says with almost comedic emphasis. I release her hand and wipe the dampness from her nearest cheek. Adelaide catches the gesture and smiles at us fondly. ‘And would you like to expand upon how you’ve come to join the Adam Wright fan club? Though, god knows, he’s an easy man to be a fan of. He’s such a good boy.’

‘Oh, sweetheart,’ Adam says as I lose it again. He reaches into the middle of the table, where napkins and cutlery stand in shiny silver julep cups, and shakes out a linen napkin before pressing it gently to my face. ‘It’s okay,’ he says. ‘We’re all good. Everyone’s great. There’s nothing to be sad about, honestly.’ ‘I know.’ I nod my head like a child. ‘I just can’t believe it. For some reason, the thought of you being there for him in that place makes me so emotional,’ I say to Mum. She purses her lips sympathetically. ‘I take it you know the whole story, then?’ I nod again. ‘Yeah. And it makes me so angry.’ ‘I’m glad,’ she says. ‘I’m glad you know what a good boy he is.’ That makes me giggle. ‘Such a good boy,’ I say, wiggling my eyebrows at Adam, who’s looking very much as though he wants to put me over his knee here and now. Fine with me.

Mum’s been watching us as closely as she’s been listening, it seems. She cocks her head and regards us thoughtfully. ‘Thank you, Adam, from the bottom of my heart, for looking after my little girl. Even if she is an ungrateful little horror, as you say.’ ‘She’s improving,’ he teases. ‘Slowly.’

I pout like the brat I am. ‘And it’s serious?’ Mum presses. ‘It certainly seems that way.’ ‘It’s still early days,’ I hedge, right as Adam says firmly, ‘It’s serious.’ I swear my heart does a full somersault.

‘I was actually going to tell you about Adam today, Mum,’ I confess between spoonfuls of my deliciously velvety butternut squash soup. ‘That’s why I suggested lunch. I was hoping you wouldn’t totally freak out and that you’d be able to give me some advice about how to tell Winky.’ Adam sniggers. ‘I still think it’s seriously fucked up that you call him Winky.’ ‘He can take it,’ I say airily.

The panicked looks Adam’s shooting me just keep on coming. I’m torn between amusement that Mum is blithely laying bare his apparent secret side hustle of fairy godfather to my brother and a rush of emotion so strong it’s threatening to overwhelm me. Adam is such a good man. Such a kind man. And clearly, a man who seems to believe he still has to make reparations to Stephen, all these years later. ‘Good God, Adelaide,’ he grumbles to Mum. ‘You need to work on your discretion.’ Mum sits back and crosses her arms with a satisfied smile. ‘I knew it.’

Mum opens her mouth to speak, then pauses. When she finally speaks, her words are measured. ‘I truly believe, Adam, that you didn’t ruin his life. You altered the trajectory of it, yes. He suffered a lot of trauma and a great loss, but he’s fine. We’re all fine. ‘Of all of us, you’re the one who’s suffered the most unimaginable losses, and look at you. I don’t need to tell you that a good life can be forged from the ashes of tragedy. You don’t need to worry about Stephen anymore. It’s not your job, you hear me?’ She winks at him, and it’s filled with affection. ‘Just focus on my daughter for now.’

I told myself before I came here that this was about Stephen, not me, and that I’d suck it up if he wanted to hurl insults, then I’d take them if it helped him to process. But I can’t deny it’s devastating to stand here and have him accuse me of selling out on our family, after every fucking thing we’ve been through together.

I’m not sure what to do, really. This has landed badly, really badly, and I don’t want to turn and flounce out of the house, but I also don’t want to stay here and be a punching bag while Winky works through his anger. I have the upper hand here. I came here knowing the facts, and he’s been blindsided, therefore it’s right that I should hold space for him and not resort to insult-slinging.

‘Listen,’ I say, standing up and hauling my bag over my shoulder. ‘I know you’re angry. If you have questions for me, I’ll stay and answer them. But I get that you’re going to need some time with this, and I’d rather not stand here while you basically accuse me of being a gold-digging whore. You know where I am if you want to chat.’ I sling my coat over my shoulder, plant a soft kiss on Chloe’s silken cheek, and get the hell out of there.

He says it’s more fun to ‘keep our powder dry’ for tonight. I wholeheartedly disagree, and I remind him of our difference of opinion by grinding my arse against him. ‘You little minx.’ He grabs my ponytail and tilts my head so he can slide his lips down from just below my ear to the strap of my dress. ‘You know the more you tease me, the more intense it’ll be for you tonight, don’t you?’ ‘Mmm-hmm.’ My voice is breathy, and I keep grinding. Sequins be damned. Adam has alluded more than once to having orchestrated a ‘surprise’ for me this evening, and I’m pretty sure he doesn’t mean his dick. I have no idea what he has planned, but I bet it’s kinky as hell. Rather, I hope it’s kinky as hell.

I get a lot of greetings and smiles and compliments, even a couple of kisses on my cheeks before my glowering, gorgeous boyfriend scares them off. ‘They’d better not think for a single second that you’re fair game tonight, just because you’re not on the front desk,’ he growls in my ear, his fingers flexing on my waist.

‘I can dance until you fall asleep in my arms,’ Adam whispers in my ear. ‘But anytime you want to go upstairs and see your surprise, just say the

word.’ His voice deepens seductively as his hand tightens on my bottom. ‘Just remember, once we get up there, you hand everything over to me. Your power and your pleasure. Got it?’ Oh God. My pussy clenches at the thought of it, and I remember that the dancing part of the evening, fun and sexy though it is, is just a warmup. The main event—my surprise, whatever it is—awaits us upstairs. ‘Let’s go,’ I say quickly, and he laughs and kisses me on the cheek. ‘Christ, I love how predictable you are.’

On the fifth strike, he pushes the vibrator in a little further. Jesus, it’s big, and it’s so obviously a foreign object that my pussy is torn between feeling violated and dancing the Can Can.

He strokes my face. ‘Let’s get you out of these so I can carry you to the shower, and soap you up nice and gently, and tell you all the reasons why you’re the most incredible woman I’ve ever met,’ he whispers. ‘Then I want to dry you off, and lie you down, and rub some cream on that gorgeous bottom of yours, and tell you all over again. How does that sound?’ That all sounds truly excellent.

Boy, am I glad I tracked him down. I slump against the door frame, arms folded, as I take in what feels like my own private viewing of Magic Mike. Adam is doing pull ups on some contraption with a high bar—I have no idea what the name for it is, and I don’t care, because my boyfriend is wearing nothing but a pair of black athletic shorts and footwear, and holy fucking shit. The sheen of sweat on him. The muscles. The way his damp hair is raked back off his face. Jesus Christ. I watch as he pulls himself up again. Every single muscle in his body ripples. Those shoulders of his are fucking huge. Veins pop along his biceps and forearms. His glorious pecs contract. He’s bloody ridiculous.

He grins at me with effort. ‘See something you like?’ he huffs out. ‘Hell, yes.’ I stroll towards him, eyeing up the damp trail of dark hair disappearing into his shorts. ‘How are the decorations looking?’ ‘What decorations?’ I deadpan, stopping in front of him as he lowers himself, inch by trembling inch. He grunts out a laugh that quickly turns more anguished as I smooth my palm down the slickness of his abs. ‘Careful,’ he warns as he pulls himself up again.

‘Be a very good girl,’ he croons, his dick flexing against me, ‘and I’ll let you come quickly.’ The unspoken threat if I’m not a very good girl hangs in the air between us, thick as treacle. Hmm. Decisions, decisions.

‘Sweetheart,’ he says, his voice so low. ‘If you think, after all we’ve been through, that there’s some kind of imbalance here, that you’re not “paying your way” in this relationship, then you are fucking delusional. You’ve given me so much more than I could ever give you. Besides, I’m hopelessly, ridiculously, in love with you.’

My mouth falls open, but he presses on. ‘I think I have been, probably, since you had your hypo and I basically kidnapped you. I love you, Nat. You are the strongest, most resilient, most passionate woman I’ve ever met, and the only reason this is a set of keys and not a diamond ring is because I don’t want to send you running for the hills just yet. ‘And I’ve enjoyed this place far more in the past month than I’ve ever been able to enjoy it before. Seeing you fall in love with my home has been incredible to witness.’ He leans his forehead against mine. ‘I just want you here with me, sweetheart. I want to come home to you every night. That’s all there is to it, really.’

Opening my eyes, I pull back enough that he can see my face. ‘I love you, too.’ His face softens with relief. ‘Do you?’ ‘Yeah.’ I nod vehemently. ‘As soon as I saw you clearly for who you really were, I fell hard. How could I not? You have the most beautiful heart I’ve ever known.’ I wrap my arms tightly around his neck and gaze at his dear, dear face. ‘If you want me here, then I’d love to live here. I love you.’ ‘I’m very glad to hear it,’ he says softly.

He wraps his arms around me and laughs. One hand slides down my back to cup my bum through my robe. ‘You’re a fucking CEO. Own it, and start acting like it.’ ‘Or what?’ ‘Or I’ll put you over my knee until you do.’ There he is, ladies and gentlemen. My boyfriend. My new investor. My partner in love and business. My best friend and my greatest cheerleader… … and a kinky bastard to boot.

‘No one would ever dispute that,’ he says drily. ‘You’ve got to give your speech in a minute—I’ll introduce you two after that. Okay?’ ‘Okay,’ I say, turning my face so I can nuzzle against him. When I glance back up, it’s Gen’s turn to look weepy. ‘Not you, too,’ I say laughingly. ‘I’m sorry.’ She dabs carefully under her eye with her knuckle. ‘It’s just—when I think about what you two were like when you first met. Jesus, it was awful. And look at how revoltingly loved-up you are now.’