Bancroft - Peaky Blinders Reverse Harem x Reader

Chapter 12

I sit at the table with my hands wrapped around a cup of tea. I scowl at the pattern in the wood, digging my thumbnail into the grooves. I must have been stupid to come here. If I'd had any idea what Thomas Shelby is really like, I'd still be in my house.

I glance up guiltily as Arthur clears his throat. He's sat at the table also, balancing a chequebook. The grandfather clock in the corner ticks into the early hours of the morning. We haven't said a word to each other — we haven't needed to. I've read my book. He's scratched his pen across paper. More frequently and irritably, as of now.

"Fucking ink's gone dry," he sighs.

I get to my feet. My eyes are growing heavy, and I need a bath before I go to sleep. "Want me to fetch another ink cartridge from your office?"

"Yeah, please," he nods.

Arthur and John aren't as precious about their offices as a certain other Shelby is. Though I haven't been told off yet for going in there — I assume Arthur hasn't told Tommy, hasn't wanted to risk angering him.

I walk through the hall to the offices, head growing heavy. But I hear small noises, quietly at first and then louder, coming from the closest room. As I draw nearer, I see the door is open just an inch. I'm so tired, I don't even think to register what those noises mean, before I've glanced through the gap in the door.

John stands naked in his bedroom, aglow in the moonlight illuminating every peak and valley of his prominent muscles. My mouth drops open slightly — I'd never thought a great deal about how he'd look beneath his work clothes, but I hadn't been expecting him to be so... strong. Only one part of him is hidden — by a head of black hair, a woman kneeling before him. John's lips tighten as she speaks.

"I'm gonna make you come so hard," she says.

Holy shit. My eyes widen slightly.

"Go on, then," he teases, weaving a hand into a fist full of her hair.

She groans as she leans forward, and though I can't see her take him in her mouth, I see John's eyes roll back as her moans become muffled.

I know I should look away, should leave, but I'm frozen. Rooted to the spot. Like a motor vehicle crash, something you can't look away from as much as you want to...

Do I want to?

A careless, one-syllable laugh escapes from John's lips. "Oh, your mouth feels so good," he tells her.

He's guiding her head with his hand, thrusting into her mouth as she takes him. I'm aware of a periodic gagging noise in between her moans, but she doesn't seem to mind. In fact, she wraps her arms around around his hips, and her own buck in place with desire.

I glance back up to John and — fuck.

He's staring right at me.

Grinning.

My breath catches in my throat. I glance down, ready to dash away as silently as I can.

"Don't stop."

I hear the command in his voice, aimed at me as much as her. I glance up at him again hesitantly, and he's still watching me as he fucks her mouth. A wave of rushing heat overcomes me. Because, as weird as this is, it's turning me on.

I try to blame the fact I haven't had sex in months, or the fact I've been living in this house full of men and it's a natural biological response.

And I can definitely blame the fact that John Shelby's eyes are on me like glue as he's getting head.

I see him grip the sideboard with one hand, his thrusts even more vigorous. I try to imagine how that must feel in her mouth, and then I imagine how he would feel in mine, and then how he would feel inside of me, pounding me so hard, clutching me to him like that...

His eyes flash, victorious, as he sees exactly what I'm thinking. It's enough to snap me out of it and startle me away from the door.

I squeeze my eyes shut. Fuck. No no no. I can still hear him going at it, and I need to get away from here. I rush upstairs as quickly as I can, all thoughts of Arthur's ink cartridge forgotten as I slump against my bedroom door after closing it.

Nothing happened. I did nothing wrong. It's not my fault he chose to leave the door open while he did that. Unless... did he do it on purpose?

I exhale. It doesn't matter. Of course John would pull this kind of shit. Probably all just a game to him.

I punch my pillow a few times and get into bed.

I try very hard not to think about him.