Pleasure | Tom Riddle & Theodore Nott 18+

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Theodore stretched his spine at the back of the armchair, his fingers impatiently tapping on the engravings of his chair. His mind still receding uneasily at the girl that was still locked in her room, and him tremendously missing her warmth presence near him.

His fingers nudged at the cigarette between it, his heaved breaths growing much more annoyed with everything that lingered on his foul sight. It was as if, he felt his own heart trying to rip out of his ventured ribcage, and tear him into shards of his own agony.

Theodore couldn't confide in the words that left his father's mouth, — it felt such an peculiar blur to him. He inhaled another sharp breath of tobacco, and blowing it out again to release the raveled thoughts that was drenched in the darkest pits of his lavished soul.

There it was, her voice.

He could feel the girl's muffled voice whisper inside his ears, — the soft voice that tenderly vibrated his ears.

"Theodore!—"

Theodore wasn't dreaming, neither was he lost in his thoughts anymore, he could actually hear her. The room abruptly grew silent, the sudden apprehension that was glistening in the room, — now had enlightened everyone that heard her voice, doubting whether it was her, or another delusional thought.

Madeline quickly pivoted her steps inside the living room, utterly ignoring her parents's and sister's existence. She sat in front of Theodore's parted legs, tugging her fingers at hem of his pant's zipper. She couldn't take it anymore, spending hours inside her room without hearing his voice drove her absolutely insane.

"Who said that you could leave your damn room?" Matthew growled, his eyes piercing directly at his daughter that sat in front of his nephew. It rather annoyed him more that she was tugging on his pant's zipper, than to her leaving her room without his permission.

She ignored him, again.

Madeline gripped her fingers harsher at his zipper, wanting to feel his cock inside her mouth again, and she didn't care the slightest, if anyone loathed their eyes at her, "Theo, I want it in my mouth, again—"

Theodore instantly arched himself forward, as he caught an glimpse of how forlorn she seemed. He knew she wasn't in her right senses, and he didn't know how to tell her that her father was in the same room as them.

He grasped his fingers on her jaw, staring in such attentiveness at her glistening green hues, "Not here, Madeline—" He whispered as he lowered himself to her jawline.

Shaking her head as she propped herself closer to him, her hands on either sides of both his thighs, "I want to taste it in my mouth, Theodore. The same way I've tasted it on that night."

With that, Theodore briskly gritted his jaw. Her answer infuriated him more, and caused his eyebrows to furrow in irritation. His father didn't know that his son wasn't an virgin anymore, and he knew that afterwards his father wasn't going to think of him the same.

He couldn't wrap his head around her, and her obnoxious behavior. Moreover — she was embarrassing herself in front her and his family.

Madeline's fingers inched closer up to his zipper, as she slowly pulled down it. She could feel her chest lightly brush against his knees and her mind not caring at all if her father saw what he shouldn't be seeing.