“You’re out of practice,” I tease.
She gasps. “Am not.” She points to my belt buckle that I slowly undo. “You’re either wearing a chastity belt or you put a spell on it so it won’t open from outside forces…Alohomora.”
I freeze and give her a look. Did she…she did. She just tried to unlock it with a fucking spell. Her cheeks redden.
“I was there when you didn’t receive your Hogwarts letter,” I remind her. She cried on her eleventh birthday, and to make her feel better I got her drunk off my dad’s expensive scotch.
I was a fucking idiot.
“Oh whatever, I know you try out spells when no one’s around.”
I don’t deny it.
I unhook my belt and she points. “Look, it worked,” she says with a smile.
“Ha ha,” I say dryly, but I’m staring at her grin. That happens so rarely now with the press bearing down on us.
She concentrates solely on my pants, making them her mission. She tugs the jeans to my thighs, and her eyes grow big at the sight of my erection, pressing against my dark red boxer-briefs. I watch her inhale more sporadically than before.
Even if this arouses her, she’s learning how to be less compulsive and insatiable. She hasn’t looked at porn, masturbated or gone off the deep end in a while. That’s a fucking success, especially after her rapid decline when her addiction was first publicized.
I relax back against my leather chair, and she licks her lips. My blood heats when she reaches for my cock underneath the fabric. I brush her hair away from her face, bunching her brunette strands in my fist.
Her hand works my cock just right—not too hard, not too soft. I let out a harsh breath when it springs from my boxer-briefs and her tongue barely touches the head. I reach out on my desk with my free hand and turn up the music on my iPod dock, electronic, heavy bass. I think it’s Skrillex, but my mind isn’t focused enough to know for sure.
Her eyes glimmer with nothing but desire, and it takes my entire energy not to fit all of me inside her mouth. She lightly squeezes my shaft, and a groan penetrates my throat, even as I try to stifle the noise. Her lips rise, and she plants a delicate kiss on my dick before slowly taking it in her mouth. Jesus Christ. I grip the chair with one hand, my other still holding back her hair.
She begins skillfully sucking me off. “Right there, Lil,” I encourage.
My nerves light up, and I clutch her hair harder. Before I can drown in this pleasure, my door swings open. No knock. No anything. I keep my hand on her head, alarm clenching my jaw, and she quickly stops giving me a grade-A blow job.
Her mouth is permanently open in panic, and she scuttles further underneath my desk.
I have just enough time to roll my chair closer to the desk, pull up my boxer-briefs, and prepare a verbal onslaught for whatever stupid fuck just barged in here.
“You need a goddamn assistant,” my father tells me, walking straight into my office without pause.
I suddenly question the attack I’d planned. Jonathan Hale would swallow my insults like he does his bourbon. Unflinchingly. Always ready for more.
“I’m sorry, did we have an appointment?” I ask roughly, not able to hold back right now, even if I wanted to.
Lily punches my shin, silently telling me to be nice. But it’s my father’s scowl, the one hardened and cold, that does more damage.
“Don’t be a little shit,” he sneers. “How are you supposed to take meetings if you don’t have a waiting room with an actual living, breathing soul outside these doors?” He scans my office, appraising my bookshelves with scorn. As if they’re not organized correctly.
“Maybe I’m not planning on taking any meetings,” I retort. “Therefore, I don’t need a waiting room.”
“Sometimes I wonder if one of my fucking nannies dropped you on your head when you were a kid,” he says.
My childhood “nannies” that he claims he’s banged. All ten of them. “No,” I say, “I’m just this way because of you, Dad.” I flash a bitter smile that my father matches quickly.
“I came here to discuss your business.” He drags a chair from the wall over to my desk, positioning it in front of me.
I go rigid, and my eyes flicker to Lily who’s hiding right below. Her eyes bug, and she holds her legs to her chest. She mouths, he’s right there?
I don’t affirm her suspicions because it’ll freak her out more. Instead I watch my dad pick up a plastic X-Men action figure that sits beside an array of other characters. I could laugh at this moment, especially as he moves Sunspot’s arm, but his curiosity is layered with a dark frown and narrowed eyes. I sense the biting disapproval even before he speaks.