Kyrie 438

Kyrie

I drag my feet, walking down the hall to my locker. I stayed up later than normal last night. Seanathair always tells me not to wait up, but I always do, unable to relax until I know he’s home. He didn’t come home until around 2:00 a.m. An hour later than normal. This is becoming unhealthy. As much as I love my seanathair, if this is simply how it will be, then I need to accept that and find a way to be happy. I’m eighteen, for fuck’s sake, and he’s a grown man who can do what he wants. Even if that includes not wanting to talk to me.

With a huff, I try to shake my melancholic thoughts away as I find my locker and lazily turn my combination. I switch out my books, then nearly jump out of my skin when I close my locker door and a face greets me on the other side. “Hi, Kyrie.”

Nate. The new guy this year. He’s been sitting next to me in math all year, and we’ve exchanged casual conversation here and there. He’s a nice guy, a little shy, with bright-blue eyes hidden under dark hair and a tall thin frame. He stands there holding onto the straps of his backpack, chewing his lip. I give him a warm smile to hopefully ease whatever anxiety I seem to cause him. “Hi, Nate.”

He looks down to the floor for a second, then back to me. “Listen, I know we don’t talk much and this might be forward, but would you like to go out with me? ”

I stand frozen, and my eyes go wide, my eyebrows hitting my hairline, then spit out the only words my brain can come up with in response. “I’m sorry?”

His cheeks turn a dark red as he looks back to the floor. “It’s okay if you don’t want to. I know we’re not even really friends. It was just a question.”

“No, no!” I rush out before he turns to leave. I’ve always been quiet and more focused on my studies. I have a few friends I hang out with, but guys never really took an interest in me, and I never cared. But as I stand here being asked out on a date for the first time, I realize that maybe I spent so much time focusing on my issues with Owen that I never tried to forge real relationships. If things would just stay the same or get worse with him, then I need to try to make myself happy.

I tuck a strand of hair behind my ear and give Nate a smile. “I… I’d love to.”

I go through the rest of my day feeling lighter than normal. It’s nice. I’m actually really excited about going out with Nate tonight. He’s a nice guy who’s always sweet. After he asked me out, I thought about how we are in class together, and he’s been flirting with me all year, but I’ve been too wrapped up in my “daddy” issues to notice. Which is a shame for both of us. I’ve been secluding myself for really no reason, and Nate is actually quite good-looking and deserves a chance, and I deserve a chance to find a real connection.

At home, I quickly get through my homework, excited I have somewhere to be. Then I start getting ready. It’s just dinner, nothing fancy, so I opt for a pair of skinny jeans, ankle boots, and a plum V-neck sweater to combat the late January chill. I grab my purse and my jacket, then bound down the stairs to wait for Nate. I’m so distracted in my excitement I don’t even pay attention to the time. While fluffing my hair, the front door opens, and Owen comes strolling in. He breezes past me, going to the cabinet like every day. “Hey, Princess.”

This is another reason tonight is a good thing: it’ll break up the monotony of everyday life. It can’t be healthy for an eighteen-year-old to spend every night sitting up waiting for her guardian to come home from wherever it is he goes. He grabs a glass and fills it with water, but when he turns around to settle himself against the counter, he does a double take at me. His eyes go wide as he scans me up and down. A look I can’t decipher crosses his face before he scowls at me. “Where the hell do you think you’re going?”

My brows furrow. Excuse me? “I have a… a date.”

His eyes widen even more. “A what? ”

“A date,” I repeat, crossing my arms over my chest, pushing my cleavage higher.

“With a boy?” he growls as he sets his glass down in the sink, then takes a menacing step toward me.

I narrow my eyes, the crease in my brow deepening as my face twists into a scowl to match his. The spike of anger in my chest surprises me. What the fuck is his problem? He’s ignored my existence for the last four years and now wants to pretend like what I do matters to him? “I’m eighteen, Seanathair. I’m an adult. One that never goes anywhere, mind you. So yes, a date, with a boy.”

There’s a knock on the front door, and I shake my head as I pick up my purse. Seanathair’s voice has me pausing. “I want to meet him.”

I breathe out a laugh, shaking my head again. When I finally look at him, he’s wearing a scowl and has a sneer twisting his lips. I’m not sure why, but at this moment, I don’t care. All I ever wanted was for him to pay attention to me, and he chooses now to do it. He chooses to pick a fight as the first real conversation we’ve had since my parents died. I grab my jacket and smile. “No offense, Seanathair, but why do you care? ”

I’m met with silence. He knows whatever the fuck could possibly come out of his mouth isn’t a good enough excuse for his behavior. Then or now. I shake my head a final time as another knock sounds on the door, then slip on my jacket and turn away from him. “Don’t wait up.”

I don’t look back or wait for a response before I open the door and leave.

***

It felt good to tell Owen not to wait up after hearing him say it every night for who knows how long. It felt good to get out of the house for something besides school or the typical girls movie night we all do. Most of all, it felt good to be looked at the way Nate had been looking at me all night. He was such a sweetheart and a gentleman. We never seemed to run out of stuff to talk about, and he didn’t try anything creepy. For the first time in a long time, I was able to relax around someone. He dropped me off around midnight, walking me to my door and leaving me with an innocent kiss on the cheek.

And they say chivalry is dead.

I’ve been seeing Nate for a few weeks and things are good. He makes me laugh, asks about my day, and takes an overall general interest in my life. To say I’m eating up the attention like a champion at a pie eating contest is an understatement, but I’m honestly not sure it’s going anywhere romantically. Thankfully, we haven’t done much beyond heavy petting. I like Nate, he just doesn’t make me melt or give me the warm and tinglies. We’d probably be better off as friends.

Owen still grumbles every time I go out, as if what I do suddenly matters to him. Must not matter too much, considering he still goes out every night himself and stays out later than normal. I try not to let that hurt, and tell myself if he cared, he’d be around to actually care . It still doesn’t stop the hollow feeling in my chest when I come home to an empty house constantly.

Only this time, it might not be so empty. Owen’s car is already in the driveway when Nate drops me off. Judging by the darkness of the house, he’s likely already asleep, and frankly, I don’t want to wake him. I snick open the door and slip inside, carefully closing it behind me, then flip the lock in place and tiptoe my way to the staircase. As I raise my foot to take the first step, a groan catches my attention. I whip my head toward the kitchen and listen for any sound, wondering if I imagined it. Then I hear it again. Curiosity gets the better of me and I creep down the hall. I’ve never seen Owen when he comes home late. I wonder if he’s drunk, maybe trying to move through the kitchen. The hallway leads into the kitchen, and I take a quick peek around but see nothing. The living room is off to the right, so I poke my head around the corner, looking into the sunken room. The lamp on the side table by the couch is on the lowest setting, a woman I don’t recognize is naked with her legs spread wide on the couch, and my seanathair is shirtless on his knees with his face buried between her legs.

I slap a hand over my mouth to cover my gasp, shock rooting me to the spot. My gaze travels over the scene in front of me as if I have no control. I can’t look away, reeling from the knowledge at just how good-looking Owen’s body is. Tight muscles spread every inch of his back and arms, and a sheen of sweat glistens in the dim light. He groans and growls while eating her savagely, and she grips the couch as her body coils tighter from pleasure. She throws her head back, threading her fingers in his short hair and letting out a mewl.

He growls again, lifting from her pussy and tossing her hands away from him. His hand wraps her throat, and he brings her close to him, his mouth wet with her juices. “I told you not to make a fucking sound.”

She gives a tight nod, and he goes back to eating her pussy with enthusiasm, moaning in his throat. I bite the inside of my cheek when a mix of jealousy and arousal pools in my lower belly. Anger I’ve never experienced pumps through my veins at the sight of him lavishing her body with attention. A jolt of panic hits me, and my breath catches in my throat. My chest squeezes around my pounding heart. Yes, I’ve admitted just how hot my seanathair is. Pushing sixty, the man is well maintained. This, though? This is another thing entirely. Is it because it’s an erotic scene? Or am I aroused by my guardian? Am I attracted to him?

He presses two fingers into her pussy, pumping his hand hard while sucking on her clit. She cries out when her orgasm hits, then I realize I’m rubbing myself through my jeans. Fuck . Before the woman on the couch finishes catching her breath, Owen stops eating her, rises to his feet, and backhands her in the face.

I freeze again, stunned by his actions. He’s never raised a hand to me. Ever. I’ve never seen that kind of rage on his face before, but more than anything, I’m shocked at my own reaction. How my pussy is clenched at the sight. He’d be gentler with me. Before I can dissect that thought, he grabs her throat again, picking her up and bringing her face to his. My eyes bulge at the size of his erection, and my mouth waters. I’m not completely innocent, I’ve seen a dick before, but that ? That’s not a dick; Owen has a cock .

“Keep your whore mouth shut, or I’ll keep it shut for you.” He threatens while squeezing her throat before dropping her back down. With speed I can hardly keep up with, he sheaths his cock in a condom, spreads her legs wide, and slams inside her. She bites her wrist to muffle her screams as his powerful thighs flex with each thrust into her.

My thong fills with another gush of arousal. I’ve been having odd reactions and thoughts about him but figured it was the lack of attention. But this? I’m more than a little turned on while secretly watching my grandfather fuck a stranger on the couch. I’m dripping as I slip my hand into my jeans. He’s vicious and violent, and hearing and seeing him be so brutal with her only makes my core clench tighter. He reaches forward and grips her throat once more, and the act is so primal that I slip two fingers inside my hole. I’m greeted with my arousal and use that to rub my clit with my thumb as he fucks her harder. The muscles in his back ripple with each thrust of his hips. He’s so possessive and powerful.

My core clenches as my pleasure builds, the dark side of me longing to feel his hands on me that way. I’m getting close, so close, and what tips me over the edge? What sends a jolt of pleasure to my core so intense I bite into my lip to keep quiet? Something that shakes me to my very soul in all the wrong ways .

The woman’s face turns red and splotchy, her mouth hanging open as she claws at his hands. Still, he fucks her, seeming spurred on by her panicked attempts to get him to let go. He doesn’t, and if anything, he squeezes tighter, using the leverage of his hold to slam into her brutally. That sends a bolt of glee through me, my own arousal ratcheting up. Her face turns purple, her eyes bulging as they glaze over before rolling back into her head. The fight leaves her, and her hands fall to the couch as her body goes limp.

Owen growls out an approving sound, fucking her like the ragdoll she’s become before he stills. His body shudders with his release before he slips his softening cock out of the now dead woman.

I stare into her lifeless eyes, knowing my seanathair’s hands squeezed the life from her, and the most powerful orgasm I’ve ever had peaks and crashes through me.

Pulling my hand from jeans, panic claws up my throat at the scene in front of me. Before he has a chance to stand and notice my presence, I stumble up the stairs, then scramble down the hall to close myself in my room. I lean against my door and slide to the floor, my clit still throbbing with aftershocks and my fingers damp from my juices.

Did that just happen? Did I watch my seanathair have sex… and get off on watching?

Did I have the best orgasm of my life while watching him kill during sex?