I wasn't surprised when I woke up to an empty bed. Not that surprised, anyway.
I would've thought that after last night, after a heated and tiring round of sex and then his midnight writing-moment, he would've maybe felt the urge to sleep in this morning, but once again, he seemed adamant to prove he wasn't wholly human.
Yawning and leaning in the doorway to his study, I watched through the gaps in his protruding bookshelf how he was already bent over at his desk, writing more math onto a crisp piece of paper. He didn't seem to have heard me get up, or maybe he was too indifferent to care, but nonetheless, I slowly walked further
into the study and braced my body in my own hands as the morning cold nipped at my skin.
My silk robe laid next to his chair.
"You really don't know how to relax, do you?"
I voiced, coming up beside him by his desk.
He didn't look up from his papers, but merely grunted distractedly.
"Good morning."
"Don't mind me," I said, quickly frisking my robe up from the floor and slipping it on.
"I won't disturb anymore. You're obviously busy."
Busy was an understatement.
He was so completely absorbed in his work, he did not even bother to look
up and provide me with a glance. Giving me another grunt as reply, I pursed my lips at him, but then turned to leave. I walked out of the door to his study and up
the stairs to my room, to take a long and needed shower.
He didn't try and stop me.
I had never met a man fonder of his work than Harry, and a part of me admired him for his dedication and his commitment. Another part of me felt hollow as I walked upstairs, feeling that void inside my stomach and the ache in my chest that shouldn't be there.
It shouldn't.
Focus on work, I told myself like a mantra as I came inside my room and headed straight for the bathroom. I stripped down and got into the shower, turned on the water and took a deep breath.
If Harry could do it, so could I.
Be emotionless.
My days seemed to be a constant repetition of themselves; waking up, showering, studying, sleeping with Harry and falling asleep. Not necessarily always in that order.
After showering and eating some breakfast, I had quickly grabbed the book I needed from Harry's study, careful not to interrupt him as he spoke on the phone with someone as I entered. I grabbed the book off the shelf, and then I was out
again.
He was focused on work, and so was I.
The next couple of hours had been spent studying and finally solving the last piece of the assignment that I had spent days trying to understand. It was around late noon that I with a relieved, yet happy sigh laid my pen down and rolled over onto
my back.
Done! Fifth assignment was finally done.
After a short moment of laying on my back and enjoying the bliss, I then pulled myself up again and took a deep breath. On to the next. I was two assignments away from having completed all of his folders, and the victory and the satisfaction of having accomplished that was almost graspable. I wanted to get them
done and prove to myself, but also to Harry, that I could be more than what I was.
So, gathering all my papers and my assignment, I left my room and headed down the stairs, once again finding myself repeating my every day schedule. When I came to his door, I didn't knock, but walked right in as I had grown a habit of doing. I still wasn't surprised when I came in to see Harry still doing his math.
Standing in front of his blackboard, back facing me, I could only see his arm moving and hear the sound of the chalk writing against the board as I came closer. I cleared my throat to make sure he heard me enter, but then laid my folder down on his desk.
"I finished it."
"One moment."
He continued to write for said moment, but then took a step back and looked over his text. Then, turning towards me, he raised a brow.
"You finished assignment number 5?"
"Tell me if I passed it."
I begged as he picked up the folder and opened it, adjusting his glasses on his nose before reading.
"This was a real pain in my ass, so if I didn't do it right, I might actually
burn this house down."
His lips twitched as he read.
"I told you they would get harder as you worked your way up.”
"I know, I know."
I waited impatiently as he turned a page and read my answer.
"So, did I, do it? Is it right?"
He was quiet for a long moment this time, reading the end of my assignment answer. Then, closing the folder, he took of his glasses and sighed. I held my breath.
"Congratulations," He then said, causing me to exhale loudly.
His lips turned slightly upwards.
"You move on to assignment number six."
"Fuck, yes!"
I fist pumped the air as Harry dug out the sixth folder from under some papers on his desk. He might be able to constantly control his emotions, but right now I was fucking proud of myself and I was going to show it.
" Yes, yes, yes, yes! In your face, math!"
I grabbed the new folder from his hand and watched as he chuckled quietly before he took a seat in his chair. He ran a tired hand through his hair, but then exhaled and closed his eyes. It looked like his lack of sleep was finally catching up to him.
I rested on my hip for a moment, watching him carefully, but then came closer. I took a seat on the edge of his desk and then looked down at him with a pursed lip.
"You look like you need more sleep."
He lifted his eyes to mine and smiled calmly.
"Do I now?"
"Yes," I stated as-a-matter-of-factly and watched him lean back in his seat and cross his arms.
"When was the last time you had a full night's sleep?"
"The night before you started occupying my bed."
I gave him a flat stare when his sarcasm didn't amuse me.
Leaning forward, I poked him in the middle of his chest.
"Someone as smart as you should know how important sleep is. And what will happen if you don't get it."
He smiled silently. Then, leaning his chin on his knuckles, he peered up at my face with that rare curiosity I saw in his eyes whenever he found something interesting, besides math.
"And pray tell, Ms. Berry, what were you doing last night? I believe you weren't sleeping either."
"I," I said, leaning down to his lips, pausing only a hair's breadth away.
I stared down into his eyes and watched him look back up at me, those amber irises so fucking irresistible.
"I... was sucking your cock and getting orgasm after orgasm as you fucked me," I
whispered, seeing his eyes not even as much as waver at my crass words.
"That's what I was doing last night, Mr. Devon. Tell me if I need to further elaborate. Verbally or visually. I can do both."
His eyes twinkled with bemusement. Shifting in his seat, he then sighed against my lips as I licked my own.
"I think my memory is sufficient enough."
"Well, they say old age makes people forget more easily."
"Are you insinuating that you think I'm old?" His voice lowered as he lifted a sharp brow. God, why did that look turn me on?
"You are 14 years older than me," I reminded him, in case he had forgotten.
See? I was funny.
"Mm." He hummed quietly, but kept staring up at me with that thoughtful look. His finger slowly rubbed his chin, perhaps unconsciously.
He had never treated me below my age, except for when he carried me upstairs that night, I had chosen to attack his liquor stash. Although that hadn't been for the lack of my age, but rather the lack of my judgement.
Or so he said.
I slowly leaned down closer, so close my lips now grazed his. I kept my eyes on him and watched him gaze back up at me, his pupils slowly expanding..
I might've been a girl compared to him in age, but he always treated me like a woman.
And fuck, it was a turn on.
Leaning down the last inch, my lips had barely pressed against his when a sudden sound startled the crap out of me. I gasped and pulled back, only to realize it was just someone knocking on the door. Harry chuckled quietly.
"Enter" He called out.
Gathering my composure and putting it back into my panties, I turned just in time to see the maid, Giselle awkwardly poking her head inside again.
This was becoming too trivial for me.
"Yes?"
Harry calmly asked with a little smile. He didn't seem the least bit fazed that I was still sitting on his lap while his young staff member was watching. Okay, so maybe we hadn't been too subtle either way.
"Pardon me, but there's someone at the door." Giselle said, her eyes twitching towards me. Another visitor? For a man with no friends, I was getting tired of their non-existence always interrupting us.
"I'm not expecting anyone. Did you get a name?" Harry asked with a little cock of his brow.
Giselle's eyes fled to me again. "A Ms. Anthea Berry."
My jaw dropped.
Mom?
I felt Harry turn his eyes up at me as my heart started racing and my stomach seemed to drop like my jaw. She was here? What the hell was she doing here?
"Should I... let her in?" Giselle carefully asked.
It took me a moment to realize that the question had been for me. The only reason I realized that was because I turned my eyes to look at Harry for help.
Should let her in?