Kyrie 492

Kyrie

I wake up feeling light, relaxed even. Surprising, considering how stressed I was going to sleep. Rolling over in bed, I stretch out the kinks in my muscles. A pang of sadness hits me when I remember it’s the weekend. I have no reason to avoid Owen, and the thought of hashing out what happened is enough to have me pulling my comforter back over my head to hide away. Maybe I can? Maybe I can just lie here, have a lazy Saturday and Sunday. Veg out in bed, read, do anything but face my grandfather after yesterday.

Just pretend it never happened. His strong arms didn’t hold me close, his muscular body didn’t pin me to the wall, his lips didn’t steal the most dizzying kiss I’ve ever had, and his hard cock wasn’t pressed against my wet center.

Yeah… I’ll just… forget about that. How my heart about galloped out of my chest when he kissed me. How I was ready and willing to open myself to him so completely. How a little piece of me wanted bad things to happen to Nate for interrupting us.

Yeah, I’ll forget, I’ll pretend. Then eventually, he’ll forget, and we’ll move on in blissful ignorance of what could have been.

I blow out a breath with a harsh chuckle. Who the fuck am I kidding ?

After a couple of hours of lying in bed scrolling social media on my phone, I can’t ignore my stomach anymore. I haven’t heard too much movement or noise in the house, which makes me think Owen is lounging about like me or he left, unable to stand being near me after yesterday. Honestly, I’m not sure which I would prefer. Which is confusing as hell. With a groan, I roll out of bed and pad my way to the attached bathroom. I strip out of my T-shirt and panties, tossing them in the hamper before turning the water to scalding. A hot shower might make me feel human before I leave the comfort of my room.

I step under the hot spray, hissing when the steaming water hits my chilled skin. My body adjusts to the temperature, shivering under the cascade. Moving my head under, I allow the pound of the water streams to soothe the aches in my temples. It’s such a mess in my head, so many thoughts I can’t get rid of, that I don’t want to get rid of even though I should. The depraved things I’ve imagined since the night I saw him fucking that woman, killing that woman, should make me worry for myself. They’ve only been worse since that kiss yesterday. The images I saw in my head when he pressed himself against me, imagining him taking me like the savage I know he is. I shiver with the thoughts as my nipples tighten and heat pools in my lower belly .

He would too, I know it. He’d pin me in place with that heated stare I’ve come to crave and adore. The one that demands my attention and submission. He’d be gentle because he loves me. Caressing my face before tugging harshly at my hair, putting me just where he wants me before taking my mouth. I groan as the image morphs to him sliding his thick cock inside me, stretching me wide, and my hand travels down my stomach. Gathering the arousal dripping between my legs with my fingers, I imagine Owen pounding into me. It only takes a few pressured swipes against my throbbing clit before I’m shaking with my orgasm and biting down on my hand to keep from calling his name. Tears stream from my eyes as I come down from the aftershocks. I’m so fucked .

***

Leaving my bedroom is harder than I thought. After my impromptu orgasm, I stayed under the water until it ran cold, thinking about everything and nothing. I put on some sweatpants and another T-shirt, not having the energy for anything else. Then I stand in front of my bedroom door for a good ten minutes, psyching myself up to go downstairs. After several deep breaths, I finally crack open the door and creep my way into the hall. The house is quiet, no sign nor sound of Owen, and once again, I’m not sure if I like it or not. Toeing my way down the stairs, I keep my ears trained for the TV, the coffee maker, anything to tell me if he’s here. When my foot touches the hard, cold floor, I shiver. Inching to the kitchen, my heart pounds in my chest with anticipation. When I round the corner, though, the kitchen is empty. I turn to look in the living room to find it empty as well, then heave out a breath, but the relief is short lived. Where is he?

Going farther into the kitchen, I see a piece of paper on the counter with his distinctive script on it.

Princess,

Sahib had an emergency I couldn’t ignore. I’ll be home as soon as I can, and we’ll talk.

All my love,

Seanathair

My heart sinks as I read the words again. With a sad sigh and nothing else to do, I make a sandwich and gather some other snacks to keep me content in my room the rest of the day. I have no plans to be productive today. I’m not motivated for anything, as a heaviness sits on my mind and chest since looking at Owen’s note. I suppose, on one hand, I should be thankful I get to avoid the awkward conversation obviously happening, based on his words. On the other hand, the quiet, empty house suddenly feels like a cavern. A lonely hole where only me and my unspoken feelings dwell.

***

Hours later, when I’m a season and a half into binging the latest crime drama, there’s a knock on the front door. I groan my annoyance as I shuffle all my snacks off my lap and throw off my comforter. I’ve been in bed all day letting my mind get carried away with other people’s fake problems instead of facing my own. But when you’re struggling with romantic and lustful feelings toward your freaking guardian, you’re owed a little mental break. Dragging my feet, I throw my hair up into a messy bun, then slink my way downstairs. I’m so tired despite sleeping pretty damn good. Reaching the bottom, I shuffle to the door and wrap my hand around the knob, expecting it to be a delivery or something, but my eyebrows shoot up to my hairline when I open the door. “Nate?”

The boy in question stands on my doorstep with a sheepish grin and shrugs as he slides his hands into his pockets. “Hi.”

We stare at each other in silence for a few minutes. Really, a few minutes too long, and I fight the urge to fidget with the awkward tension building. “Umm, what, why are you here? ”

Not the most polite response, and I swear his jaw tics, but his face betrays nothing. I haven’t talked to him since yesterday when Owen told him to leave. It wasn’t the most warm and fuzzy of partings, so to see him with a soft smile honestly puts me off a little. He looks around and leans forward, peering inside my house before meeting my gaze again. “Is your guardian here?”

I narrow my eyes at his question. Does he want to talk to Owen? “Umm, no. He’s out.”

He sighs in relief. “Good.” At my furrowed brow, he elaborates. “I just mean he was really, uh, firm yesterday with me. I didn’t want to get my ass kicked for showing up on his property.”

I nod. That makes sense but doesn’t explain his presence. “So, what are you doing here?”

His face goes solemn, and he looks down to the ground, shuffling his feet. “I was hoping we could talk. Ya know? About us.”

It takes everything I have to keep the absolute panic from my face. Fuck. That’s two awkward conversations I was hoping to avoid. I shouldn’t be surprised, though. Nate and I have been casually seeing each other, heavy makeout sessions and all, for a few weeks with no definitive label or end in sight. Then I went and called him a friend. Which he is, as I’m now positive I don’t want him to be more. It’s such a dick move to keep stringing him along without a clean slate, though. With a heavy sigh and a nod, I step aside, waving my arm toward the hallway. “Come on in.”

He smiles wide as he steps over the threshold. I close the door, then lead him through the kitchen, inviting him to take a seat on the couch. He sits with his back to the corner, angling himself toward me and spreading his legs wide in a comfortable stance. I post myself at the opposite end and curl my legs under me, taking a deep breath to center myself. It’s silent for a while, and my nerves get the better of me, causing me to wring my hands. He came here, so I’ll let him gather his thoughts and talk when he’s ready. Finally, he sighs and shakes his head as he leans forward with his elbows on his knees, eyes on the ground. “So… friends, huh?”

I shift in my seat, not liking the darker tone his voice has taken on, but I guess when you go right to the meat of it that’s expected. “I…” He raises his bright-blue eyes to mine. “Yeah, friends, Nate.”

He scoffs like he did yesterday but doesn’t say anything right away. When he does, his words shock me. “So do you makeout with all of your friends like a whore? ”

I’m stunned for a moment, unable to form a response to his harsh words. I open and close my mouth a few times before my voice starts working again. “What? No! How could you even think that?”

He rolls his eyes and sits back against the cushions. “Oh, I’m special, huh? The friend that gets to stick his tongue down your throat, but nothing else, right?”

“Nate, I’m sorry if you feel like I lead you on. I—”

“Lead me on? I’m fucking falling for you, Kyrie. Now you’re gonna tell me I’m nothing to you? That all the dates I put so much thought into were nothing? That I didn’t go out of my way to make you smile or hear you laugh? That those kisses, those passionate kisses, were between friends ?” His shoulders are heaving, his voice louder with every question, his eyes ice cold as he stares me down. I’ve never seen Nate so upset, and it’s setting off my alarm bells. My heart is pounding, and my stomach is twisted into a knot.

I press my hands down on the couch, prepared to jump up and run as the tension climbs higher.

“I’m sorry, Nate. Really. I should have made myself clearer earlier. I don’t want to hurt your feelings, I just don’t— ”

Nate wraps his hand around my throat, eliciting a choked gasp from me. His face is contorted into a look of rage with his skin turning red and his lips twisting into a snarl. His eyes are wild with a deadly look that makes my blood run cold. “Don’t what, Kyrie? Don’t feel the same? Hmm?”

He picks me up by my throat, and I kick my feet and claw at his hand, my lungs begging for air as he squeezes. “I get to taste your sweet lips, hear those moans? But I don’t get your heart?”

He slams me onto the floor, my back screaming at the impact, and throws his weight on top of me, wedging himself between my thighs where he grinds his hard length into my center. I’m still gasping and clawing at him when he brings his nose against mine, nuzzling it like a lover would.

“I felt you, Kyrie. The way you would get all hot and bothered when I touched you, kissed you. You had no problem dry humping me for your own satisfaction, but when I want more, it’s no longer convenient for you?” His words turn into a feral growl as he releases my throat, allowing me to drag in precious air.

Before I can bring my hands up to push him off, though, he’s grabbed a fistful of my hair and flipped me to my stomach. Ice fills my veins as sheer panic squeezes my lungs. “Nate?!”

He leans back over me, grinding his erection into my ass, and I choke back a sob. His hot breath fans over my cheek as he snarls in my ear. “I thought you were different, Kyrie. You spent all year giving me those shy little smiles in class, batting those pretty lashes while you giggled. You knew what you were doing. I watched you, all the time, everywhere I could follow you, proving to myself over and over how perfect you were for me. I couldn’t help but fall in love with you. Now that I have you, you think you’re walking away?”

“Nate, please stop!” My throat clogs when his zipper slides down. “No! Please, stop!”

I try to get my hands under me to push up, but his weight on my legs keeps me down. He rips my sweatpants and panties down to my thighs in one go, and I can’t hold back anymore. Tears stream down my face with chest-racking sobs, then when the bulbous head of his dick harshly pierces my opening, I shriek, “No!”

It all happens in slow motion, my mind taking far too long to catch up to reality. Before Nate can push into me farther, a fierce growl rumbles around us. Nate is ripped off me, and when I roll over, I see my seanathair .

He has Nate by his throat slammed up against the wall. Nate’s head bounces from the impact before Owen holds him there, squeezing the life from him. Owen uses his free hand to grip Nate’s tongue when he gasps for air, and Nate wheezes out a garbled screech. In a show of strength I never thought possible, Owen rips Nate’s tongue clean from his mouth. Blood pours from his mouth, and the scream he lets out through his attempts to breathe reminds me of a dying animal on Discovery . Owen keeps squeezing, a darkness clouding his eyes that I’ve never seen before, but it doesn’t scare me. When Nate loses consciousness, Owen drops him to the ground, but I can see the steady rise and fall of his chest, telling me he’s not dead.

Yet .

The dark thought shocks me, but should it? Nate tried to rape me. He… he did. Do I want him to suffer? Yes, I do. More than should be healthy, but perhaps it runs in the family. My mind flashes to the night I witnessed Owen kill that woman. Maybe the violence is ingrained in me, given to me by the very man who holds my heart so tight I don’t even own it anymore. He’s capable of making Nate pay, and a sick part of me hopes he will.

I stare wide-eyed as those thoughts swirl in my head before dragging my gaze back up to him . My seanathair. Owen. The burning look in his eyes is more than rage. It’s passion, desire, need , everything we’ve both been hiding from. I swallow hard against the dryness in my mouth, trying to find words to fit this moment, but before I can, he closes the distance between us. His bloody hands cup my face and drag me to my feet. His lips slam into mine, and I moan as I melt into his embrace, not even caring that Nate’s blood is getting all over me. His blood is perfect for this moment. A blessing, baptizing the chaos between us.