The Nanny

Chapter 16

"I can sleep in my own bed," Queen told Kyrie as she laid in his, propped up by pillows and hidden under his covers. He had cleaned and bandaged her wound earlier that night and even offered one of his shirts for her to wear. Although she was finally comfortable and off her feet, he still felt guilty for not protecting her. "Are you going to sleep, too, or just sit there?"

Kyrie stared at the empty space next to her and then met her gaze. He had adjusted to the dark and could see every feature of her delicate face. There was an unreadable expression on his, but she was far too tired to decipher it. "I just want to apologize for tonight."

She raised a brow, waiting for him to elaborate on his weak attempt at an apology.

"If I'd kept my distance from you, stayed away like I should have, we wouldn't be in this mess."

She sighed. Of course he'd resort to self blame and turn it around on him. "You're not sorry."

"I am," he tried convincing her. "This problem I had with Lucinda wasn't your burden to take on, and now you're caught in the middle because of me. I'm sorry, Queen."

"This problem?" She scoffed in disbelief and swung her legs off the bed. When he realized that she was trying to leave, he trapped her in an embrace and held her against the mattress. "Get off of me. I'm going to sleep in my own room."

"Stay here," he said pleasingly. "Stay with me."

"You just called your engagement a problem," she seethed, palming his chest. With the last bit of her strength, she shoved him away and pulled herself up to look at him, but it was too difficult when he was on the verge of falling apart. "You don't care about Lucinda. You don't care about me or your family, and you won't teach your boys about their own mother. You're selfish, Kyrie. You're incapable of caring about another life or loving one."

"That's not true," he claimed. He pulled her to his front and cradled her body, keeping her locked in his arms. "I love my boys. They mean the world to me."

"I don't doubt that for a second."

"And I love you," he whispered, his voice breaking. When he turned her to him, she was impassive, unwilling to give off any expression or emotion to his confession. "I love you, Queen."

She frowned. "No, you don't."

He captured her face in his hands and with a quivering breath, pressed his lips to hers, stealing a kiss from her. Queen moaned into his mouth, but it wasn't because she had longed to taste him all night or explore the depth of their pleasure. It was purely out of pain, so she broke away and shook her head at him, denying herself of his affection. "I love you," he said again. "I want you. I want us together — you, me, Colt and Maddox."

She couldn't stop the tears from flooding her eyes. As she stared blankly back at him, the wrenching in her chest bringing about her quiet sobs, Kyrie slid his hands under her shirt and massaged her breasts, flicking and pinching her nipples until they were hard. When she tore into her lip, he pulled it free from her bite and kissed her tenderly.

"I love you," he told her as he lifted her shirt over her head.

The only thing posing as a barrier between them now was the pair of panties that he pulled past her legs, discarding them on the floor before eagerly burying his face into her pussy. As soon as his tongue spread over her clit, her back arched off the mattress, and her hands closed around the sheets.

"Kyrie," she called out into the dark room.

He moaned, unsatisfied with his name on her lips. "Say it again, Queen."

The vibrations of his voice made her gasp. She cupped the back of his head and urged him closer, guiding his movements. "Kyrie," she whispered. She repeated his name over and over again until her voice was replaced by pleading cries to make her cum.