Page 122 of Unstitch

‘Really?’ he asks.

I nod, sliding my hands down his arms before putting my fingers to the top of his zip. He’s here, and he’s a miracle, and he’s set himself free, and he is ours now, mine and Darcy’s. Fully, wonderfully ours.

To love and to cherish from this day forward.

‘Will you let me show you how much?’

83

DEX

Istare into the beautiful face of the man I love. It’s my favourite version of his face—the one he makes when he wants me so badly he’s scarcely capable of knowing his own name. He’s vibrating with it.

I want nothing more than to be alone with him and Darcy right now—to wrench her off the stage and wrap her in a fluffy towel and march them both to a private room. I ache for it, because this will, honest to God, be the first time we’ve been together with the golden light of benediction shining on us.

The benediction I bestowed upon us.

The benediction I didn’t know I had the authority to give, when it turns out I was, all along, the only one who could give it.

And it terrifies me to think I may never have got that memo.

But Darcy has another few minutes before her set ends, and Max is looking at me with the whole world in those big blue eyes of his, and nobody can push me out of my comfort zone like him to heights I didn’t know I needed, and I’m already hardening from his kisses, and the beat of Beyoncé’s sultry, sexed-up version of Back to Black is coursing through my veins, and every hedge fund manager in Mayfair is probably here tonight, and if I’m going to be out, I may as well be fucking out.

So I kiss him, and I say yes.

The expression on his handsome face morphs instantly from need to satisfaction. If he wants to take this as a win, he should go for it, because of the two of us I’m the one getting blown.

The man at the helm of Europe’s biggest IPO in half a decade is about to sink to his knees and suck me off in a sex club, before the great and good of the finance industry, and fuck my life in the best possible way, because if telling Dad to essentially go fuck himself felt surreal, this is on another level.

As if he can read my mind, he puts his mouth to my ear and whispers hotly, ‘Everyone’s going to know you’re my absolute favourite little fuck toy now, and I want you to show them how much you fucking love it.’

He’s right, of course. They will, and I will. Max holds the power here, whether he’s on his knees or not.

And I fucking love it.

‘I’ll show them,’ I say hoarsely, and he chuckles.

‘I know you will, you little slut.’

I’m still laughing, my head thrown back, when he licks down my exposed throat and sinks to his knees with an elegance, a dignity, only Max can pull off.

I expect him to merely unzip me, but he unbuckles my belt and then unzips me, shoving my trousers and boxer briefs down with brutal efficiency until they’re around my ankles and only my shirt tails preserve my modesty.

It’s one way to ensure I don’t do a runner, I suppose.

Then he licks the length of me, and I go from semi-hard to hard so fast the edges of my vision darken, while in the centre of it my beautiful girlfriend splashes around happily and shakes her fantastic, tassel-clad breasts at us.

If this is my new reality, I’ll be the happiest sinner who ever sinned.

Alchemy:

Physical change.

A universal panacea.

Elaborate transformation.

The gold-embossed coasters in the bar next door inform us that alchemy is all this and more, an elixir of immortality, even. All I can say is that there’s something in the water in this place.

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