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Alastor liked to think that he was tuned in to Charlie FM, as he amusedly called it. He usually guessed correctly where she was in the hotel, should he need to find her. He was tuned in to his own personal Charlie station, Princess of Hell radio, a station that played quietly in his mind. He was sure that if he ever told her about it, she’d laugh and find it amusing, too. But Alastor preferred to keep this a private joke for his own enjoyment. Charlie didn’t need to know that he had a sixth sense to find her, whenever and wherever she was, at his convenience.
It happened the first week since they became business partners in the hotel. Alastor chalked it off to him getting used to her presence, nothing more than a survival instinct. After all, what separated predators from prey was advantage. Alastor was always one to have an advantage. However, as days became weeks, and weeks inevitably blurred into months, the demon no longer considered his darling Charlie to be any sort of threat. Quite the opposite, to be frank.
He found himself looking for her when thoughts of her popped into his mind after rounds of numerous hours. It started innocently enough. What did Charlie say she was doing after breakfast? Did she ever make it back from the store? Has Charlie eaten dinner yet? It’s nearly midnight, was Charlie still laboring over her “please and thank you” workshop for the sinners?
Alastor didn’t realize that his thoughts were preoccupied more and more on Charlie. It was as simple for him as going about his business (no matter how devious or morally abhorrent his business was), thinking about the last time he saw the princess, tuning into his Charlie FM, and finding her inside the hotel. Whether that was finding her in the lounge going over her lessons, writing in her journals in the library, or even on the porch outside enjoying a quick cup of coffee before going back to work.
She didn’t always notice him. He didn’t always make himself known, some days he just wanted to check and see where she was and what she was doing before slipping back to his business. But when she did notice him, the greeting was always the same.
A big, cheerful smile. “Hi, Alastor!”
He didn’t think he’d ever tire of her.
Then, one late afternoon, one like many others, Alastor paused in the middle of his activity. He was reading the news, keeping up with Vox Entertainment, when a distracting thought passed him like a breeze.
What was Charlie up to?
“Yes, let’s see how your home security goes, ol Vox,” Alastor chuckled as he set down his paper. Silly Vox. Always trying to find ways to interfere in the lives of the demons who roamed the streets. When would he learn that they were beneath him?
Alastor decided that it would be a good idea to cook some gumbo, a dish that he knew everyone would enjoy. Not that he cared if anyone else liked it, although he did enjoy that a certain princess happened to love his dish. Her bowl was always empty, not even a grain of rice left.
He stood up and tuned into Charlie FM. Where was she? What did she say that she would be up to today at breakfast? Something about putting off her workload, time was running out, she wanted to die, something, something something.
Normally Alastor paid more attention to her, but earlier that morning he was not feeling as involved. Now, as he stood in his room, he found it hard to dial in to where she was in the hotel. He received nothing but static.
Alastor didn’t frown, although he did drop his grin to a small smile. He left his quarters, locking his door behind him, and took the elevator down to the first floor. It dinged open and he stepped out to see that most of the hotel’s residents were relaxing in the main room. All except for Charlie.
As to be expected, Angel Dust was at the bar, Husk was behind the bar and halfway through something potent, and Niffty was dusting the same spot on the wall repeatedly, laughing as she did so.
“Salutations, sinners,” Alastor greeted as he stood a few feet from the bar. “Don’t let me keep you from your conversation. I’m looking for Charlie, have either of you seen her?”
Husk raised a furry brow. “I’m surprised you don’t already know,” he muttered.
Angel Dust smiled, however, his smiles always seemed to be seductive in nature. “We haven’t seen Charlie all day, probably won’t for awhile,” he answered.
“And why ever not? Did she go somewhere?”
Did Charlie dare leave him without so much as a farewell?
Angel Dust shook his head. “Nah, she’s still here, she’s just busy. The deadline for taxes is due tomorrow.”
“Ha!” Husk jeered. “The princess would be so lucky. The deadline is tonight.”
“Really? She’s fucked then.” Both of them laughed, entertained by the idea of Charlie’s anguish.
Alastor expected nothing less from them. “Taxes,” he repeated. “Where is she doing the taxes? In the hotel?”
“She’s in her thinking room,” Angel Dust answered, his voice dry, like the answer should have been obvious.
“Thinking room?”
“You didn’t know Charlie had her own thinking room?”
“If I did, would I be wasting my time speaking with you?”
Angel Dust rolled his eyes. “Sheesh. Yeah, she’s got a little place where she likes to have what she calls her ‘big brain’ ideas. And I guess you wanna know where that is, huh?”
Alastor sharpened his grin. “What a bout of clairvoyance from you.”
~*~*~*~
He should have known that Charlie’s idea of a “secret spot” to have her “big brain” ideas was a closet. Really, he admonished himself, he should have guessed. On the top floor of the hotel, the linen closet that was between Charlie’s quarters and his own was originally supposed to be an office space, but the blueprint was abandoned and it ended up being an awkwardly spaced room. It was big enough for a desk and a simple office chair, but not much else beyond that. There were no windows, only one vent for a pathetic amount of AC to pour out of, and the place smelled like old linens. Alastor couldn’t fathom why Charlie would want to be locked up in this room when there were plenty of office spaces, yet there she was, hunched over the desk.
She didn’t notice him step in. There were piles and piles of paperwork on her desk. A tiny laptop was opened up and the light from the screen was the only light source in the dark room. There was no overhead string to put on any lights, the laptop was all.
“You know, that will cause eye strain and eventually affect your vision, dear,” Alastor said, making his presence known.
Charlie jumped in her seat. She turned and saw it was only her hotelier. “Alastor! How long have you been standing there?”
“Long enough to assess that you’ve bitten off more than you can chew.” Alastor waltzed into the closet like it was the parlor, closing the door behind him and shutting the two inside the small space. “A little fly told me that you were slaving over menial work.”
“Menial?” Charlie repeated. “No, not at all! These are the taxes for the hotel!”
His grin didn’t falter. “Yes, menial, as I’ve said. Why don’t you allow me to snap my fingers and do the taxes for you? Then we can go down to the kitchen and I’ll whip up some dinner, how does gumbo sound?”
She pursed her lips, as if she really considered it. “I’m sorry, I can’t. I’ve got a lot left to do and time is running out. I have to hit send by 11:59 tonight.” Before Alastor could further make his case, Charlie swiveled the chair to face him. There was little space between them, given the room, and her knees brushed against his legs. Charlie reached her hand out and stopped Alastor’s own from brushing a stray hair away from her face. Her sudden movement caught him off guard, although his smile remained. Charlie held his hand for a moment, her eyes finding his. “Save it,” she warned. Even her warning was futile. Innocent, lacking bravado.
“My dear,” Alastor said, holding her fingers in his hand. Her touch was so delicate against his skin. “Why do you stress yourself over these things?”
“Because I want to do things on my own merit. I want to know that without powers and without my status as princess, I’m capable of fending for myself.”
Alastor knew she’d say something akin to that. He looked down at her desk; all the receipts, invoices, and paperwork of the past six months, plus a box of crayons. “Please tell me you’re not filling out your work with a red crayon,” Alastor said.
Charlie jerked back her hand and put it in her lap with a huff. “Of course not!”
“Or a black crayon.”
“I-I-I couldn’t find any pens!”
He knew it. He snapped his fingers and a pack of black ballpoint pens appeared, unopened and full of ink. Charlie looked at the pens, then Alastor, then back at the pens. “This is the only thing you’re helping me with,” she muttered.
“Oh, so you’re not willing to accept my help with this endeavor?” he asked. He tried his best to hide his amusement.
“You don’t know how to do taxes,” Charlie muttered. She scrunched her nose. “Unless, you do?”
“I was a living, breathing human once. Of course I know how to do taxes. I didn’t run my radio show without a little business knowledge!”
Charlie seemed annoyed with this answer. “Why wouldn’t you know how,” she muttered. “Is there anything you can’t do?”
Oh, this took an amusing turn. Alastor conjured up a chair and sat down next to his princess, directly by her side. Their knees touched due to the small space. “You’re not the jealous type, darling. I don’t think it bothers you that I know something you don’t,” Alastor offered.
“You’re right,” Charlie agreed. “I’m sorry. It’s wonderful that you know so much. I’m stressed, that’s all. I didn’t have an entire life as a human before coming here! I was born here! And there’s a lot I don’t know, but I’m trying. I want to know that I did these taxes myself! And then once they’re done, it’ll be a happy day in hell!”
She laughed at her own joke, and despite himself, Alastor chuckled as well. “Point taken, my princess,” he said. “So let’s get these taxes done and then let’s get dinner. I’ll help you, if you’ll be so gracious as to accept my assistance.”
Charlie smiled, her mood already much better. She reached for a brand new ballpoint pen and popped the cap, drawing a smiley face on her hand to test the ink. “Well, it’s probably somewhere in your job description as a hotelier to do taxes,” she said. “I shall graciously accept your help, and in return, I will do anything in return to help you.”
“Will you? Is this a deal?”
“Oh, quit. This is a verbal promise, no handshakes.” Charlie handed Alastor a stack of papers. “Sort those, please.”
Alastor had a feeling that he wouldn’t have gumbo for dinner tonight.
~*~*~*~
It amazed him sometimes how effortlessly time passed when he was with Charlie. It had been an hour and a half, yet it felt like a mere twenty minutes. It wasn’t until Charlie stood up from her chair to stretch did Alastor realize how long they’d been there in the closet. “I’m stiff,” Charlie complained, rolling her shoulders back. His eyes watched her exposed stomach when she lifted her arms up and over her head. She was so much like prey at times, and it was so easy for his predatory tendencies to come out.
Charlie plopped back down in her chair. “What next?”
“Brackets,” Alastor answered. “We must check, double check, and triple check that we’ve got all the right brackets filled out.”
“Right.” Charlie yawned and hunched further into the desk.
“You can always take a short break,” Alastor offered.
“No, we’re almost there,” she declined stubbornly. “Bracket one, income.”
Alastor watched her strain to read by the poor light of the computer screen. “Sometimes,” he began, “it can motivate you to work towards a reward.”
She looked at him. “The reward is to finish the taxes.”
“No, that’s the goal.”
“Then the reward is knowing that I did it.”
“That’s not doing it. You’re dragging. You need something else to give you motivation, to reignite the fire inside of you.” Alastor leaned in closer to Charlie, his face hovered a mere few inches from hers. “What would you do if you didn’t have taxes?” he asked in a low voice.
She immediately flushed. He knew she would, yet it was always enjoyable to see her white skin turn pink. “Uh…” Charlie croaked. Her voice was cracked. “I don’t know, I suppose go to bed.”
“That’s all?” Alastor grinned. He reached out and allowed himself the luxury of touching her chin with a brush of his hand. His touch drifted down to her coat collar, where he tugged until he saw her perfectly white neck. Supple, mouth watering flesh.
Her eyes met his. One look and Alastor knew that he had won; desire shined in Charlie’s eyes. “What would you do as motivation?” she whispered.
“If it were me?” he chuckled. “Oh, that’s an easy one. I’d let the idea of fucking you into this desk motivate me to check, double check, and triple check those brackets.”
Charlie cursed under her breath. It wasn’t fair that Alastor could affect her so much with his blunt, dirty sentiments. “I’m on bracket four,” she said.
“Eighteen more.”
“Fuck.” Charlie turned towards Alastor and leaned into him. “Maybe I need more than motivation. Maybe I need a little taste of my reward and then I’ll have the motivation to keep going.”
Hells, she was absolutely adorable. He grinned. “I’m not sure it works like that.”
“It can work like that.”
Alastor thought about this proposal. “Perhaps it can,” he agreed. He stood up and snapped away the chair that he conjured for himself earlier. With quick hands, he had Charlie up from her seat–a gasp from her lips when he finally touched her again and forcefully stood her up–and he sat himself in her office chair like it was his the whole time. Alastor grabbed her hips and sat her down on his lap. He smirked smugly to himself when she fit just right.
“Oh,” Charlie giggled. She turned around in her new seat and tried to give him a kiss. “This can work.”
Alastor cupped her chin in his hand and turned her to face forward. “Eighteen brackets,” he said. He didn’t bother to hide his obvious amusement.
She groaned in frustration. “I never want to hear you say the word brackets ever again when this is over.” She furiously began to work on the task at hand.
Alastor quite enjoyed the sight of her, especially with her ass sitting perfectly in his lap. It had been awhile since the two had any sort of sexual encounter, tryst, incident, whatever label it should be given. They didn’t talk about it much after, just an exchange of awkward giggles from her and smirks from him. Alastor thought now, with Charlie so flush against him, that they really should figure out what was happening between them. He didn’t think he’d ever have anyone touch him the way he allowed her to. Yet when Charlie touched and kissed him, something inside him was satisfied, something buried deep that he thought he learned to keep quiet.
She paused when she had twelve brackets left. Alastor was erect and his hardness pressed deliciously between her legs if she spread them enough. She looked over her shoulder and saw his glazed over eyes. Charlie tried not to lose her inhibition. She would be lying if she said that seeing the Radio Demon like this didn’t thrill her. The thought of Alastor getting turned on by her was enough to make Charlie squirm in her seat. Her squirming went straight to his erection. He narrowed his eyes at her actions and his hands shot up to her hips, his claws digging warningly into her flesh.
“Easy, dear.”
She smiled at his warning. “I’m not sure I can go on like this.”
Alastor bucked up and pressed his erection between her legs. “I think you can.”
“I think you want me to finish just as badly,” Charlie said.
“I do.”
“How badly?”
“Oh, you naughty little thing. You want me to tell you about all the things I’d like to do to you?”
“Yes.” Her response came out breathier than she intended.
Alastor chuckled. One hand stayed on her hips, while the other one slipped up and under her shirt and traveled higher up the soft skin of her torso. Charlie shivered when he cupped her breast, even if her bra was a barrier between his rough touch and her hypersensitive skin. “I’ll tell you,” Alastor muttered. “When you get to the next bracket.”
“GAH!” Charlie shrieked. “Why can’t we just fuck and then resume the taxes when we’re done?”
Alastor’s grin nearly touched his ears; it was so wide. “Because you insist on doing this the proper way, and you’ve only got an hour to finish it before time is up.” Charlie glanced at her open laptop; it was 10:59 in the evening. “And,” Alastor continued, “I plan on fucking you all night long. I don’t think it’ll be possible for you to start them again. I don’t think it’ll be possible for you to walk straight tomorrow, if I had it my way.”
Fuck, he was good. Fuck, fuck, fuck, this was too much.
“Fuck you,” Charlie swore, her face now bright red.
“After you move onto the next–”
“BRACKET, yeah, I’ve got it.”
He was amused to see her buckle down and continue working. He had to give her credit, even with all the distractions, she was determined to do what she set out to do. Alastor decided to take it easy on her, at least for the time being. He waited for his erection to go down, although it never fully did. He didn’t think it would as long as she was atop him. The hand that cupped her breast began to glide up and down her warm, soft skin. She was so supple, so welcoming to him. He sighed and leaned forward from the chair, burying his face in her hair and breathing in her scent.
Charlie stiffened but ignored her butterflies and kept working. Alastor snapped his fingers and with a little magic, Charlie’s clothes disappeared. All that remained was her white lacy bra and matching panties. “Oh, come on!” Charlie groaned.
“Motivation,” Alastor replied in a sing-song tone. She muttered something under her breath and leaned further into the desk, furiously scribbling. Alastor followed her forward. With her shirt gone, he had a treasure trove of flesh to devour. He kissed the back of her neck. One kiss wasn’t enough, he had to kiss more, and he ran his tongue down the side of her neck. She moaned in response, but showed great restraint when she didn’t turn around to face him. “Good girl,” he whispered. He kissed her shoulder, licked, then bit. She jumped in his lap, yet didn’t stop working. He could see that she was only four brackets away from the end. Upping the antics, Alastor moved his hand into her underwear. He smiled into her skin when he found her wet and ready for him. “Oh Charlotte, you’ll ruin me,” he groaned.
She wiggled her hips in response. That was invitation enough. Alastor slipped two fingers between her folds and pumped her, while his other hand moved back to her breast and this time slipped under the bra.
He found himself lost in a rhythm of kissing her shoulder, fingering her, and pumping his erection up and into her hips. His movements weren’t careful or calculated. He was rough, only doing what felt good to him. Her heat was so wet, so hot, and just the thought of her legs spread open for his tongue to taste made him fully stiffen. He could drink Charlie all day and all night, she was his favorite wine.
“I think I’ve done it,” Charlie whispered.
Alastor unlatched his mouth from her shoulder and peered over her. Low and behold, all of the brackets were finished, the date and signature filled out. “It seems you’ve do–”
Charlie cut him off when she turned and finally claimed his lips in a kiss. He didn’t expect her ferocity in the kiss, but welcomed her mouth on his. Charlie turned to get a better angle. She reached to grab his jacket and pull him closer to her as her tongue lashed against his. Alastor pumped her faster, his fingers still deep in her pussy, and he added a third one inside. She staggered in her aggression, the stroke of his hand catching her off guard, and he took the advantage. Alastor moved swiftly and broke their kiss, pushed Charlie face forward on the desk, and stood up from the chair. Before she could react, Alastor had her panties pushed to the side and his painfully erect dick sheathed inside of her.
She moaned loudly at the sweet intrusion. He groaned at the tightness of her heat. Finally, finally. She was his. Alastor snapped his fingers, which sent the taxes and paperwork off to the appropriate office. He hoped that Charlie really was done like she claimed, because he didn’t double-check her work, and he was over those fucking taxes, anyway. He only cared about fucking her into the desk, just as he promised. He was a man of his word, after all.
Charlie arched into the desk, pushing her ass against him. Alastor grabbed her hips and began to find a rhythm. He settled for slower, deeper strokes, ones that really sent her into the desk. She practically mewled at his pace. Her long blonde ponytail went over one shoulder, and she turned her head to look at him with her own glazed over eyes. “Yes,” she panted. “Like that.”
It was moments like these that made Alastor think that he would do whatever Charlie wanted, anything in the entire fucking world. He didn’t belong to anyone, but fuck, he’d give himself over to the princess of hell if it would be like this.
He pushed the same two fingers that had fucked her inside her mouth. She tasted herself and sucked, still looking at him.
Alastor couldn’t take it. He pulled out of her and turned her forward to face him. Charlie gleefully accepted the new position. She was finally free to ravish him with her hands and mouth, and she barely noticed when her back hit the wall. Her legs wrapped around his hips and he secured her between himself and the wall, not a finger’s space between them. They were kissing, sloppily running tongues together, both fighting to taste the other’s mouth. Alastor bottomed out into her, and she moaned in satisfaction. Charlie rocked her hips into his, meeting his thrusts, all while her hands went everywhere on his body. He fucked her into the wall, his pace much less measured, now just desperate in strokes. He wasn’t gentle, he knew it, but Charlie seemed to enjoy it. Her walls clenched around him, daring him to finish. When she began to tremble every time his hips met hers, he knew she was close.
He broke their kiss and grabbed Charlie’s hair, pushing her head back so that she could look at him. The lust in her eyes was heady. She never looked more gorgeous than she did when he fucked her. “Come for me, Charlotte,” Alastor commanded, although his voice was soft. She squeezed around him and he saw her eyes roll back. “That’s right, let me fuck you through your high,” he praised. Charlie’s hips bucked wildly against his as he came, and he watched her find pleasure on his cock. Seeing her was his undoing as well. He followed her high and released inside of her. Alastor leaned forward and gave her shoulder another long, drawled out bite as he came down.
By the time her feet reached the floor, she was wobbling. “Do we stay here or should we go to my room?” Charlie asked with a cheeky smile. She reached up and played with one of Alastor’s ears, a gesture that she knew he didn’t like, but allowed her to do after an orgasm. He gave her the “look” but allowed her to squeeze and pet his deer ear like it was a stuffed animal.
“Are you quite finished?” he finally asked.
“Sorry,” she smiled, but she knew that she wasn’t. “Oh wait, you’ve never had dinner! Didn’t you say something about cooking gumbo?”
“My dear, if you think I’m going to go down in the kitchen and start cooking after helping you all night, and with only one orgasm, you’ll be sorely disappointed,” Alastor replied.
She lifted one eyebrow. “Really? Well, what do you say if I told you that you’d have a reward? And as a matter of fact, I can think of some motivation for you.”