Foto bij 771. - Lucien

I notice that she puts her wineglass away, and that she shifts in a way that my peripheral vision can't comprehend. I notice a blur of black, but then I'm pulled back to the screen to answer a question that doesn't explicitly mention my family name, but is clearly about it anyway. The interview has been dragging on for a good hour now, and I just want it to end. My deadline is screaming my name, and so is the kitchen.
"I always have my client as my first priority, but from house on out I've always…" 
During my answer, my eyes have drifted upwards. It takes me a second before I fully comprehend that the blur of black I noticed earlier was Emma's shirt, and that she is now full on flashing me. It takes me another second to realise that there's some new additions to her jewelry. My voice catches in my throat and my mind draws a blank. 
"Mr du Castellon?" The distorted voice of my soon-to-be boss barely cuts through. I have to tear my eyes away from Emma. "Um," I start, trying to not look away again but it proves to be extremely difficult. Did my eyes play tricks on me? Did Emma actually pierce her nipples. "Sorry." I say, sounding hoarse. "I think I heard my wi- girlfriend coming home." Bon sang, Lucien! I chide myself. Se remettre les idées en place! I very nearly called Emma my wife just now, and I can only pray that nobody noticed. What were we even talking about, what question was I in the middle of answering? I glance up again, as if seeing Emma is going to give me answers. It doesn't: she just looks at me with a wicked grin, and I confirm for myself that she did indeed get her nipples pierced. I'm suddenly very thankful that I'm behind a desk.
"I hold them accountable as well." I say slowly when the question finally comes back to me. I don't even try looking away from Emma, who's now posing for me. "I think with them, but am also honest with them even if it's not what they want to hear." My voice doesn't even sound like mine. My entire body is acting, so very close to slamming the laptop shut and bending Emma over the desk. I've hidden my hands under the desk and they lay balled to fists on my legs in an attempt to keep my composure.  
"Very well," The man in charge says, oblivious to what's going on in my office. "We'll have our assistant call us to book your first introduction to our firm, but this has been a very promising interview. I think I speak for all us when I say we look forward to welcoming you to A&A law."
"Thank you very much, sir." I reply in a strained tone. Emma has now taken place in the chair opposite my desk, giving me a proper show. It's not going to be much longer before I snap. Me and all the other callers give each other animated goodbyes, but as soon as it's acceptable I leave the call and slam the laptop shut; the noise of it must have startled Emma, because when I'm next to the chair a second later she's suddenly sitting up very straight, looking me with wide eyes that give a futile attempt to being innocent and instead exude nothing but bratiness. Her breathing stops when I, slowly and deliberately, wrap a hand around her throat and drop crouch down next to her. 
"How - fucking - dare - you." I growl in a low tone, causing her to shiver. Her head falls back when I push against her neck, and she grins wide. When she goes to speak, I cover her mouth. "Not a word from you." 
Her hands travel while I take in the view, soon enough finding that spot at the back of my neck. She gives a sharp tug on my hair, eliciting a groan from deep in my throat. It invites her to do it again, but this time I bite back any response simply because I refuse to give her the satisfaction. My free hand slowly roams over her breasts, careful to stay clear of the jewelry as not to cause her any pain. When I go to stand, her hands immediately go to the buckle of my belt. I stare down on her, and she stares back. I lean down over her, hand sliding down to her throat again. 
"I texted you about the interview so you wouldn't come and be a distraction." I say, hovering my face over hers. I can feel her breath on my skin, and her fingers brushing over my v-lines nearly makes my knees buckle. But, again, I refuse to show it and show her just how much she's got me wrapped around her finger.
"Let me apologise." She breathes, still grinning - at the same time, she pulls down the zipper of my trousers. She cranes her neck to kiss me, but I push her back down to keep her from doing so. Clearly not having it, she grabs my tie and yanks me down, our lips colliding. I don't have the strength or willpower to immediately break it off, engulfed in what she's doing to me. 
"Do you like them?" She asks in a whisper, and with her hands wandering I need a moment to gather what she's talking about. 
"Love them," I finally manage, groaning under her touch. "But you can't do that when I'm in a meeting." 
"I'm sorry." She pouts, obviously not sorry at all. "I wasn't going to, but seeing you in that suit, acting all professional… I couldn't help myself." Her teeth sink into her lower lip, and her other hand travels over my chest and shoulders to that same spot in my neck. "It was just like at the firm… It reminded of all the fun we had back then." The moment her fingers knot themselves into my hair, our power dynamic shifts. I'm completely at her disposal, and she knows it. I let her move me as she stands, eyes locked together as she undresses me before she pushes me to sit down. I feel a grin curling my lips as she drops down on her knees, cool hands pushing my legs apart. "Let me make it up to you, mister..." She purrs. I lean forward, catching her chin between two fingers before letting her do anything. 
"That's Mister du Castellon for you, little lady. And don't think you'll get away that easy." 

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