Page 63 of Always Alchemy

‘Please, sir. Oh my God, please. Fuck?—’

She starts to buck, her inner walls contracting around my fingers, and?—

‘Oh, you’re all set up for me. Excellent!’

From behind me comes Tobias’ voice and theunmistakeable scrambling of overexcited dogs as, in front of me, my wife falls noisily, gloriously, apart.

TOBIAS

Never in my life have I encountered such a bunch of rampant sex addicts, and I did a shoot inside the Playboy Mansion for Vanity Fair that one time in the Noughties.

I need a very large whisky now.

21

CAUGHT IN THE ACT

ANTON

Ilove my hedonistic lifestyle these days.

I adore having so much more time to spend with Gen—and with my children, when they’ll tolerate me.

But I have to say, being back in my old office is heady in a way I didn’t anticipate.

Not much has changed. Max got rid of the big old leather chair behind my desk and replaced it with a fantastically ugly ergonomic one that I’m sure is far better for his posture. The books on the shelves are different, of course. But almost everything else in here remains the same as when this was my kingdom and I reigned over my businesses and my women with glorious autonomy.

Graf, the photographer, has set up the shot, finally happy after two hours of his assistants perfecting the lighting. They’ve all gone outside for a quick smoke, and I’m alone in here with my wife. I have to say, the lighting is wonderful—dim and atmospheric, a more photo-friendlytake on the ambiance we enjoyed that evening that will forever be branded on my brain.

This time, she loves me.

This time, it’s me and only me she wants to touch her.

This time, there’s no Max. No David. No Athena. There’s just me and the woman I love, completely in sync and ready to perform, to create a series of the most achingly erotic tableaux for this extraordinarily gifted photographic artist. I already know we’ll buy every shot.

Since Graf came on board a few weeks ago, things have moved quickly, and the artistic brief has been refined with the help of Adam and Natalie. The inspiration: those grainy, sexy, shadowynoir-style photos Helmut Newton used to take in the Seventies. The entire calendar will be in black and white, each shot arty and atmospheric enough that it will feel more like a series of movies in which the viewer can drown.

Gen and I have discussed at length what we want from our scenes. The Christmas one was a bit of fun—I enjoyed having my very own ice queen sitting on my lap, rubbing my cock—but this afternoon’s scene is the important one for us.

At the time, I thought that debauched evening in here was a victory far beyond what I’d hoped to achieve, even if Gen wouldn’t let me touch her. It was a victory of minds. Today, we’ve come so much further. She is my world. She’s still the woman of my dreams and my desires. And by getting her on this boardroom table and immortalising this moment between us, I believe I’ll find a very specific kind of closure.

It’s a vindication of every bit of pain I felt that night as I watched David and Max undo her right here, right in front of me, as I ached and ached to touch her.

‘Crikey,’ Gen says, slapping the table. ‘Do you think it’ll hold my weight?’

I scoff. ‘It’ll hold ten of you. Now get up there. I want to warm you up before that lot come back.’

She narrows her beautiful blue eyes at me and lays a palm flat on my chest, over the crisp white shirt I’m wearing. ‘Did you have a nefarious reason for suggesting that vape break?’

‘I have a nefarious reason for absolutely everything I do. I thought you’d have worked that out by now.’ I drag her in towards me, drinking her in. For our little tableau, she’s wearing an ivory coloured silk dress. It has feminine ruffles at the neck and wrists and, more critically for our purposes today, little buttons that undo all the way down to the waist and a full, flimsy skirt that can be rucked up with no effort at all.

‘And that’s why I love you,’ she purrs, wrapping her hands around my neck. I don’t want to spoil her scarlet lipstick—well I do, but I won’t—so I content myself with pressing my lips to her forehead as I let my hand roam over her fantastic arse.

‘Okay,’ I say, releasing her with a little slap on her bottom. ‘Get on the table, sweetheart. Let’s rough you up a bit.’

‘Won’t Tobias want to do that?’ she gasps, but she steps backwards so she’s sitting on the table.

‘I’d like to see him try.’ I step forward, and she opens her legs for me. ‘Now, let’s see. I want you lookingdéshabilléeand utterly ravishing, which, of course, you will.’

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