Unveil (Alchemy, #3)

by Elodie Hart

This book is for everyone who’s had to teach themselves sex positivity because it was never modelled for them. I see you.

Fucking TikTok. You look up someone once to perform a little professional due diligence, and its algorithm won’t let you move on. It has the memory of an elephant and the unwelcome stickiness of gum stuck to the sole of your shoe.

When I’m in a relationship, I’m faithful. When I’m not, I’m an animal.

I nod my approval. ‘Nice. She wet?’ ‘Soaking. Listen.’ He pulls his hand out of her, then pushes back in fiercely, and I’m treated to the exquisite combination of her lips clamping down around my dick and the clear sound of her inner wetness sucking Max’s fingers in. That’s it. ‘Fuck. I need a feel.

‘Max, take her tits. Athena, sweetheart, you spread those little legs for us, alright? We need to get you ready to take our cocks.’ Her moan is answer enough, but her fevered, whispered please is the sweetest gift, because there is nothing I love more than hearing women beg.

‘Hold yourself up like a good girl, darling,’ I warn her, ‘ or we stop. Got it?’

‘Yes please,’ she says immediately, and I smirk, because there’s no bashfulness now. She’s so fucking desperate to be impaled on our cocks at both ends that she has no problem voicing her needs. Just the way I like my women. Desperate and vocal.

I’m not into guys, really, but I have a keen appreciation for the dynamic that is two successful men, fully dressed, bringing a highly intelligent and well-educated, almost-naked woman to her literal knees with frantic need and feeding her our cocks.

I respect women. I adore women. I steadfastly believe they are our equals in some ways and our superiors in most. But I love nothing more than indulging in a little scorching hot, consensual abasement of the female party, because shame is one of the most powerful aphrodisiacs I’ve ever seen.

But the sight that sends an anticipatory tug to my groin is the sight of a waist-high, chesterfield-style ottoman with cuffs chained along the top. Because cuffing a woman and bending her over that thing could work very well. Come to think of it, Genevieve Carew’s arse would look particularly fine bared like that. Which prompts my next question.

‘It’s just a shame. Because you’re precisely the kind of woman I hoped to find here, Genevieve. And I know how good I can make it for you. I’d fuck you over that ottoman thing out there, so everyone could see how fucking beautiful you are when you let go. Or, if you’re feeling shy, we could come in here. Alone, or with whoever else you want. Depends on how many cocks you can take in one night. ‘But make no mistake about it. If I got you on this bed I would be fucking relentless until I’d made you fall apart over and fucking over.’

‘Are you still sticking with your no-touching-each-other rule?’ he asks in a low, intimate voice. ‘I am,’ I say, my voice a little less confident than I’d like. But it seems he gets the message, because he nods and rakes a hand through his thick, dark hair. ‘Understood. It’s a shame, though. You look perfectly lovely tonight.’

The woman’s big, shapely, crimson-silk-clad arse is waving in his face, but as he removes a cufflink and rolls one sleeve up, he turns his head and looks straight at me. I blink. He smirks and mouths two words. Watch this.

I may like to abase women, in the sexual sense of the term, but I would never confuse that with disrespect. I fucking adore women, and I also adore making them feel amazing.

I want her wishing, with every last vestige of strength she has, that she could trade places with this woman. That she could be naked and at my mercy while I give her what she needs. I want her so filled with longing and resentment that she caves. That she begs me to put her out of her misery.

‘So you want it rough,’ he says. It’s not a question. The smile has gone, and a frisson of nervous excitement shudders through me. ‘Yes.’ ‘Dress off.’

‘On the sofa,’ he says. ‘Hands and knees.’ He prods me in the back, and I sashay over to the nearest huge sofa, positioning myself lengthways on it like he asked.

I wish it had been you last night. And if you think this is me playing games, I can assure you I’m doing precisely the opposite. A. PS these flowers remind me of you

‘You’ve seen me lose control and fuck someone like a beast, so you have the upper hand.’ He lowers his voice. Chooses his words. ‘Now it’s my turn. I want to see you lose control, Genevieve. You know it’s all I think about. Watching you come undone in the messiest, most glorious way. I won’t rest until I get you so worked up you’re fucking shameless.’

‘I will always respect your boundaries.’ He raises his free hand as if to stroke it down my bare arm before letting it drop to his side. ‘You’ve told me I can’t touch you, and I won’t. But we’re far more similar creatures than you’d like to admit. We both get off on the same thing, and those guys are so up for it it’s indecent. So let me give you this.’

‘Let’s take a look at her,’ I say. ‘I want to see what she’s got under there. Don’t you?’

‘Touch her nipples,’ I tell David, moving slightly to the side to maintain my view. ‘Just a bit. Don’t give her too much—not yet.’ I want her begging us to let her get off.

I have a man kneeling at my feet. Another right behind me, one hand sliding over my bare hip as the other traces its fingers oh-so-lightly along the back of my thong where it disappears between my cheeks. And a third, the one whose attention, whose approval, makes me light up in ways I despise and adore in equal measure, staring at me like he’d love to shove his henchmen out of the way and pillage me right here.

There’s nothing better than reducing a man who likes to be in control to a desperate, ravenous animal who’ll fuck any hole he can find to slake his need.

‘Your eyes don’t leave mine,’ he tells me through gritted teeth. ‘Got it? They stay on me.’

If I’m the instrument, he’s most definitely the maestro, conducting this exploration, this celebration, of my body. And there’s no doubt this composition is one of his own creation. He may not be the one touching me, but as I keep my eyes locked on him, he’s the only one who matters.

‘Get her on the table,’ I demand. ‘Now.’ I want to fucking look. She smiles her Mona Lisa smile at me and turns. Jesus fucking Christ.

I want every one of her holes, and I will have them.

I’m naked except for my heels, laid out on a table for three fully clad men to enjoy. To worship and debase and command. To wring from my body everything it has. And I know one of them will push me to my limits and orchestrate every touch the other two give me. And it will be beautiful.

His voice softens. ‘And that’s what I get off on. Seeing you give into the darkest parts of you, and let them out, and go through the fucking roof with pleasure.’ He gives me one more lingering look and turns abruptly away. I’m thinking he may actually be human when I hear his voice turn cold. Authoritative. ‘Now’s the part where she begs.’

‘You little beauty,’ he says. He reaches out a hand before stopping himself, pulling it back abruptly. ‘You heard her,’ he tells the others. ‘Give her what she needs.’

I’m gasping, and crying out, and full-on convulsing on the table as my nails scrape against its smooth surface and my greedy body takes every single morsel of pleasure they’re willing to give me. And still, Anton watches my face.

The experience of looking into Genevieve’s huge blue eyes as she comes apart on my fucking conference table is religious. Transcendent.

‘Looks like she owes you both one hell of an orgasm,’ I remark idly. ‘Why don’t you get her on the floor, chaps? You can both use her at the same time. Max, you fuck her.’

The woman has a huge dick filling her up at each end and it’s me she wants eyes on. That I’m not the only one of us with FOMO makes something swell inside me. ‘Go on,’ I bark as I wrap a tangle of Athena’s curls around my fist. ‘Fuck her harder. Both of you.’

This is the beautiful part. This is the fucking symphony, where it all comes together. Where we all come together. Where everyone is so lost, so blinded by a fog of white-hot desire that they exist simply as a slave to their own need.

He stood in the doorway, one palm up on the doorframe in a particularly alpha pose, and said the following. Not you were magnificent. But you are magnificent.

‘Please,’ I tell her. ‘Please. Let me touch you. You’re extraordinary. I want to show you how extraordinary you are.’

‘Shut the fuck up and put your legs over my shoulders,’

‘Head down. Cunt up,’ I tell her in my most commanding, don’t fuck with me voice, and she groans like she’s been waiting her whole life for me to tell her to do that.

‘I’m going to break you in fucking two,’ he rasps hoarsely as he thrusts. ‘Take it, you beautiful, greedy girl. Fuck me, this cunt is greedy. I’m going to make you so desperate for my cock that you’ll do anything I want. If I tell you to bend over and spread ‘em in public, you fucking will. You won’t be able to think about anything else but having me inside you. The whole. Fucking. Time. I’ll ruin you. And you’ll fucking ruin me.’

‘I meant it,’ he whispers, rubbing his nose against mine. ‘You’re going to ruin me.’ I swallow. ‘You’re going to ruin me, too.’

It’s the squawking of seagulls that wakes me, but when I open my eyes, it’s Anton I see. He’s lying on his side, propped up on one elbow and tousled head resting on his knuckles. He’s gazing down at me. He’s smiling.

‘Come here,’ I say, and she leans forward. I wrap a hand tightly around the back of her neck and pull her forward so I can kiss her while I fuck her. So I can fill up two of her perfect holes. So I can consume her as much as I want to consume her.

‘I’m going to fuck you in here, up against this glass,’ he says, bending his head so his voice is in my ear. ‘In the dark, so you can watch everyone fucking outside as I take you, or with the lights on, your beautiful tits pressed against the glass so everyone can see how fucking stunning you are.’

For the next hour or so, she’s my whore, to do with as I please. To use, and push, and delight in. ‘You are everything,’ I tell her. ‘Now, get on your knees and suck it.’

His smile is pride and adoration and wonder, and it’s so broad those dimples of his have disappeared into his laughter lines again. I reach up and trace one side with shaky fingers. ‘You’re so fucking beautiful when you’ve just come,’ he tells me.

We both need the same thing. For him to dominate me completely, and for me to submit completely. Trust completely. Because when he ties me up and edges me until I’m begging and practically weeping, he sets us both free.

‘I’ve been married three fucking times, for Christ’s sake, and this’—I break off and attempt to pull myself the fuck together—‘is what I’ve been looking for the entire time. This. With you. And I’ve wasted half a fucking century without you. And I don’t regret anything that gave me my kids, but I wish I’d met you sooner. I wish that so much.’

‘You’re stunning,’ I correct her, my thumb moving to the thick strap of her dress and sliding beneath it to stroke her skin there. ‘But you know what would be even better?’ ‘What?’ she asks, amused. ‘Just the choker. Lose everything else.’