Kingpin’s Nanny: a Spicy Age Gap Grumpy-Sunshine Romance
Kingpin’s Nanny: Chapter 7

“It’s not about the money,” she says softly.

“I want to feel sexy and desirable.” She shrugs and smiles sadly, still my sunshine even when she’s upset. “I wanted you to see me.”

My heart does a somersault, but she doesn’t mean me. She means YourBoss, and she clearly doesn’t think I’m actually her boss given what she was saying when I finally logged on.

Probably I’m too old for her to imagine I’d have any interest in her, but my cock has never been harder.

I shouldn’t have stopped her. I wish I’d walked down to her bedroom, unzipped my aching cock, held her down, and told her that she asked for this.

I should have defiled her in that cute Santa hat, my face an impassive grumpy mask, as ever.

Unfortunately, I seem to have some morals left, so instead I’m going to sit through saving her from herself and then jerk myself raw on my own as I wish things were different.

“That’s why I set up this evening’s show. I set this up because I felt—feel,” she corrects herself, “about as attractive as a squashed fruit cake.”

The times I’ve shut down her flirting crash over me, and I nearly write, “Sorry”. Then I come to my senses.

She huffs with dismissive laughter.

I’m tempted to point out that half the Christmas cake she and Ivy made, I stole to eat in my office. Bella is very attractive to me. Even more so than fruit cake.

Part of me wished I had been here from the beginning of her show, but that just wasn’t an option. Ivy got really upset that Bella wasn’t there at bedtime. Bella had told her she wouldn’t be, but through tired snivels, Ivy said she was worried Bella wouldn’t have anyone to spend Christmas with. I didn’t have the heart to explain that Bella had asked for the time off. I certainly wasn’t going to tell her that as we spoke, Bella was probably preparing for her evening’s fun.

I nearly called Bella, multiple times. Ivy just wouldn’t settle. On any other night I would kiss her and let her get to sleep on her own. But there was no way I could leave Ivy tearful and unhappy. I thought it was a bonus staying with Ivy kept me away from the temptation of Bella.

I told myself it didn’t matter, because I wouldn’t turn up for the livestream anyway, because that would be filthy and immoral. I would only log into OnlySantas to ensure Bella had left and got her money.

I never expected to open a video link to the girl I love and want in equal amounts perfectly framed on her bed, sprawled out with only a Santa hat on and her fingers on her sweet, pink pussy. On display for me, like a feast for a starving man.

But it did matter.

I’ve been thinking of this the wrong way around, protecting myself. I should have turned up, because Bella deserves to feel as gorgeous as she is.

I sweep my hand through my hair and curse.

And I am going to hell for this. But some truths cannot be denied.

She looks down like a kicked puppy. “The man I want doesn’t think so.”

“Don’t talk about him like that!”

My eyebrows hit the ceiling as jealousy poisons my gut.

“He’s great. He’s just…” She looks wistful. “He doesn’t want me.”

I’ll kill whoever this man is. I’m going to replace out who he is, and end him. Who could possibly look at Bella and not want her? Who could resist being the person she loved and defended?

Someone who doesn’t deserve her, the back of my mind whispers. Like you.

Usually, I’m exactly wrong for Bella, but tonight, I’m anonymous. Right now, I’m not her much older boss who shouldn’t want his niece’s nanny, for fuck’s sake. For this moment only, I’m the lucky bastard who can comfort her.

A pleased smile creeps across her face. “Really?”

“I’m alone for Christmas, and that kinda sucks.”

She doesn’t deserve to feel unloved. Not when she is so very loved by Ivy and me. My heart goes brittle. I did this. I shouldn’t have agreed to her having any vacations, at all.

Or if I’d given her time off each week like she asked for originally, maybe she could have been willing to be with us for Christmas, as she belongs.

“Are you alone?” she asks, a little wary.

I laugh to myself. Sometimes she’s naive. I’m watching her sex show on Christmas Eve. Of course I’m alone.

And I mean that in every sense of the word. I’m alone right now, and I will be tomorrow too. I’m alone in the world.

“Then why didn’t you turn up for the livestream?” she asks.

Because I couldn’t. However much I craved it.

“You must have wanted to watch.” She looks at me intently, as though she could figure this out through the screen. “You knew you’d be alone, and wanted company?”

I’m hit in the chest again. She doesn’t understand the depths of how I need her. The issue is the chasm between us. Not just this evening when I’m separated by a floor and so much understanding from the woman I love beyond anything, but also for all the time before I knew her, when I was aware there was something missing from my life and didn’t know what. From the last six months that I wish could have been different, and worst of all, for the risk she’s leading me towards that might mean I lose her forever.

Plus, if anyone else saw her perfect body on a livestream I’d get no work done until February as I tracked them all down and arranged for their deaths. Which isn’t very Christmasy, even by my standards.

“We could keep each other company?” she suggests, almost shyly. “I’d like it if you watched me.”

My mouth goes dry as she slowly pulls her T-shirt over her head. She looks right into the camera, straight into my eyes, and smiles as she rubs her nipples to points.

“Are you…” She pauses and gives a breathy little sigh. Then bites her lip. “Are you hard?”

I can’t lie to her now, it seems. I’m always hard for Bella. And Bella putting on a show for me? You couldn’t keep my cock down with three train locomotives and a dozen carriages.

“I want to see.” The sparkle is back in her eyes.

I hate that I’m going to spoil that as I begin to type a response. It’s a no, of course it’s a no.

“Please. Please, I really need to see that someone wants me. That I’m doing it right.”

“Well…” She squirms. “The man I want never responds. I try to flirt with him…”

Unbidden, the time in the kitchen when she playfully flicked a slice of strawberry at me repeats in my mind. She was so sweet and precious and sexy in her little summer dress. I wanted nothing more than to defile her in it. Grab her hips, turn her around, pull down her knickers and bend her over the countertop, then fuck her little tight cunt hard until I came right up against her womb and filled her up. I wanted to take her raw and breed her, and see how pretty she was swollen with my baby afterwards. That was what I imagined when I jerked myself harshly off after I walked away without a word.

If I’d said anything, I was certain she would have heard the gravel of desire in my throat.

“Thing is,” she adds, twisting a lock of hair around her finger and licking her lips nervously. “I’m a virgin.”

The blood stills in my veins.

A virgin. My perfect Bella is untouched.

“Until I met this man, I’ve never wanted to have sex. And now I have all these feelings. I have all this…” She presses her thighs together. “And he doesn’t want me.”

I want her.

“I thought being a camgirl would help me get over him. Reclaim this for myself, and be a sexy woman rather than just a…” She shakes her head and sighs. “I guess he thinks of me as a little girl.”

My poor Bella.

I’m far too aware that she’s a fully grown woman. That’s rather the problem.

“Then show me.” She has a determined glint in her blue eyes.

A string tightens up my chest. I can’t really do this, can I? But for her… To eradicate whichever arsehole has been making her unhappy, and to maybe get my forbidden longing for her out of my system.

I huff a cynical and slightly sad laugh to myself. That will never happen. But I could have this once. I could have a cherished memory of when she saw me, and we indulged in this madness together. Even if she isn’t aware of who she’s doing this with.

“Please. I want to see your response to me. I want to know I’m attractive, even if you’re not…” Her expression goes flat, then she bites her lip speculatively. “What made you use that screen name?”

Oh. Shit.

Well, that was a fine idea when I was just going to chastise her for intending to show herself on camera, wasn’t it? Now though…

I pick up my laptop and take it to my bed, sitting onto the covers and resting the computer near me. I angle the screen down and glance around. Need to be careful to block out anything she might see that would reveal her filthy older boss is obsessed with her.

Checking the video in the preview box, my heart drums, but no. All that’s visible is my midsection and bit of the pillows. I’m wearing perfectly ordinary and deniable white shirt and dark suit trousers—shit, cufflinks. I rip them off and roll up my sleeves, careful to only go just below my elbow where my tattoos begin. Thank god for “keeping a neat persona for the money laundering businesses”. I didn’t realise it would also be good for a dirty interlude with an innocent young woman I want to ravish.

She would have seen my tattoos on my chest during the summer, but wouldn’t have seen below the waist, which is all that will be revealed now. I doubt she noticed, even.

“Look, it’s okay,” she begins sadly, and I smash the share button. “Oh!”

Immediately, I click off the audio. There’s no way I can watch her and make myself come without moaning, and I don’t trust myself not to say her name.

I palm my rock-solid cock through my trousers, and she watches with wide eyes, staring into the camera.

“That’s it, show me your face, fuck.” She’s so beautiful. Of course I want to see the explicit, sexy parts of her. But the opportunity to watch her face looking right at me—or seeming to—is far more arousing.

“I’ve never seen a man’s…”

I smirk and flick my belt apart.

She draws in a breath as I pull down the zip, my cock punching upwards against the fabric, eager for her observation. Do I want to be the first man she’s ever seen? Fuck yes. First and last.

“You’re… Wow.” She’s even closer to the screen now. Like she can’t get enough.

I release my cock, shoving down my boxer briefs and then giving myself a lazy stroke. A small section of my ink is visible, but not much, and I relax slightly.

She’ll never know it’s me.

“You got hard from watching me?” Bella asks, her tone one of awe.

Oh, she likes that power, does she? I grip harder, and a bead of pre-come leaks out the top.

One-handed typing is tricky when I’m half-crazy with lust and can’t take my eyes off the screen where she’s watching me, entranced.

Fuck it. I want more.

She laughs and snatches up her red and white hat. “I’m supposed to be sexy Santa! Or Miss Claus, I guess.”

That smile is sweetly inviting as she bites her lip. “I wouldn’t mind it if the real Santa did that. I have a bit of a thing for older men. Well,” she amends quickly. “One in particular.”

I will not allow my jealousy to ruin this. I keep up a steady rhythm over my length, but it’s hardly needed. Although my brain is full of ideas of murdering anyone who touches my Bella, my body is responding as it always does to seeing her: with the intense need to breed her and make her mine.

“Ooo. Really? Do you live in London?”

I ignore her question.

“I know.” But there’s heartache laced in her words.

“Yes, Santa,” she says teasingly, but does as I tell her, shifting back so I can see her more fully.

I groan as her naked skin is revealed. Those pert little tits, fuck, I’d like to kneel over her and streak them with my come. Own her. I’ve held my lust in check for six long months, and now every depraved thought is in my mind, my body straining for release.

That’s all the typing I can manage.

Confusion flickers on her face for a second then she gets it, running her hands down her chest and sliding her fingers under the yielding flesh.

Her moan makes me even harder, as though that were possible, and I have to ease off not to blow my load too quickly. She turns me into a horny twenty-year-old again.

She takes a deep breath, as though despite being a sexy minx earlier, now I’m here watching her, she’s unsure.

Coyly, she inches her knees apart, revealing her pink folds, shiny with how slick she is. My fist at my mouth and I’m biting my knuckle as my wrist bangs away at my cock faster. Did I say I would be happy just looking at her face? I was a fuckwit. I’d die to lick her.

“Do you like…?” she asks. “Is it…?”

I shouldn’t reveal that, but her pleased smile is enough to justify the risk.

Her shoulders go back a bit, as though that praise gives her the confidence she needs. I breathe through the overwhelming desire, and control myself enough to type more.

“Yes. I love seeing how you want me. How hard you are.”

I want to fuck her so badly I’m lightheaded with it. She’s just downstairs, in my fucking house. She’s here, on the screen, horny, and saying she likes my cock. So close, and yet so, so far.

The skim of her little hand down her body has me obsessed with watching now. As she reaches where she’s wet, and cries out as her fingers brush her clit, I jolt too, as though we’re connected through the screen. Like her pleasure enhances mine, and vice versa.

She makes a soft mewling sound and begins to circle her clit with one finger.

“Oh!”

She blinks.

Her chest flushes pink as she realises what I’m asking for, but my good girl opens for me, showing that pretty pussy.

She obeys, her back arching, pushing her naked tits towards me. I love seeing her like this.

I accidentally hit send before I finish the sentence. I’m not as eloquent as I’d like right now, but I’m torn between giving her instructions and stroking myself, both for my own pleasure and for her to watch.

She moans and I echo her, thrusting up into my hand.

Her gaze is fixed on the camera, and while I know she is looking at my cock, I let myself think she’s looking back into my eyes. I let the pleasure rise as I stroke up and down the shaft, all the way over the tip.

Bella goes pink at the neck as she gets more and more worked up.

Her eyes go hazy, and her fingers speed up.

“I’d like to be doing that for you,” I say aloud as she begins to shake. “So beautiful.”

I take in every detail as she moans and shudders. The Santa hat slips from her head, and her hair falls around her shoulders in a dark shining flood.

She mouths a word as she climaxes, and maybe it was boss, or oh, or nothing at all. But as I stroke my cock one last time, I see it as Lucas, and pleasure explodes through me. I come and it’s harsh and intense and almost painful in its intensity. Despite my palm over my crown, there’s a mess of reams of white. I shift on the covers, not wanting to get the evidence of my sordid desires over my laptop where they’ll taunt me forever with this memory when I’m trying to work. And attempting not to replace my ward’s nanny, push her against the nearest surface away from prying eyes, and slake my lust on her lush little body.

It takes me a minute to recover, my mind blank as I just enjoy this precious moment with Bella. And even when I reach to type a message to her, I’m not quite steady, knocking the laptop.

“Lucas.”

Panic flares through me. I’m sure for a second that I turned on the audio or something. But no, that’s not it.

Bella is staring intently at the screen, seeming to have come closer again, so all I can see is her pretty face.

“Lucas.” She blinks her big blue eyes at me. “That’s the name of the man I’m in love with. He’s my boss.”

My heart does a jumping thing. I wonder for a second if I’m having a heart attack. Maybe I’m dead. I’m definitely dreaming. But no, this can’t be heaven. I’ve never done anything good enough to deserve this.

“You’re my boss. It’s your screen name, Lucas.”

I should deny it, or say this can never happen again.

“I saw the photo. As you moved the camera, it showed for a split second before you turned it off.”

My obsession has outed me.

My hands shake. The framed photograph on my bedside cabinet. Fuck. I look at that image every night with my cock in my hand, making myself come while thinking of that trip to France. I took a single, precious photo of her in that demure swimsuit, and have cherished it ever since.

I can’t reply. I can’t lose her, and if that makes me a coward, so be it. I need her in my life. Maybe I could apologise, and she’d stay. Or fine, I’ll keep her here by force.

“I know it’s you,” she says quietly. “Even if you won’t admit it.”

Then another piece clicks into place, like a puzzle that swings open a door into the light. I couldn’t take in what she said just now, but she has been talking about a man she loves.

She loves me? I’m the one who made her feel that I didn’t desire her?

No.

Fuck, what was I thinking? That ends immediately. I smash the video button and turn on the sound, so she can hear my voice.

“Come here.”

She gasps.

I have no restraint left. Enough teasing. No more avoiding the inevitable. I love her. I don’t care that I’m twice her age, or that she’s my innocent little employee. I’m going to claim my woman. She will be mine.

“Now.”