Burning Desire

by Ami Snow

  “What are you doing this morning Dylan? Off to work as usual?” Penny asked buttering a slice of toast as she turned to Dylan.

  “Nah. I was actually hoping to show Arianna the sights,” he began.

  “Yes! Yes!” Arianna interjected eagerly a little too eagerly judging by the surprise on her mother’s face.

  Dylan’s firm mouth canted to the side as he apparently tamped down on his amusement.

  His incredibly blue eyes swung to hers and she read his understanding of her reluctance to spend a delightful day traipsing up and down the length of a museum. Something warmed in the pit of her belly and unbidden, another blush started to spread in her cheeks.

  Hastily, Arianna looked away from him, “I would like very much to go with Dylan, Mum.”

  “Excellent! You two kids go do whatever it is children do in the afternoons,” Will boomed from his place at the head of the table; and the matter was settled.

  She would be going out with Dylan! Her stomach somersaulted a little and she squelched it before turning to smile shakily at her nemesis, as she said, “Awesome.”

  Arianna Pepple told herself she was a little witch as she tugged on the dress she had picked for their ‘outing’. It was an innocent enough sundress at least when one looked at it from behind. But the front was another story; the plunging neckline, aided by her Victoria’s Secret wonderbra put her cleavage on full display revealing a tantalizing expanse of flesh beneath her throat. The waistline of the gown was tightly cinched; emphasizing her waist in a way that unbeknownst to her would make a man’s hands itch to span the tiny waist. Her hair fell in a mass of riotous waves down her back and the hem of the gown  which came only to her thighs  revealed miles and miles of slim, gold-bronzed legs.

  She grabbed her green sling-purse and stuffed her feet into the matching flat sandals before studying her reflection in the mirror. A pretty, gamine-faced girl with full pouty lips and a body made for sin, looked back at her.

  With a toss of her long mane of hair, she turned and descended the stairs eager to see Dylan’s face when he caught a glimpse of her cleavage. If his tryst with Linda the other day was any indication, he was a breast man.

  As she descended the stairs, she saw Dylan waiting for her at the bottom of the stairs, his back turned as he spoke quietly on the phone.

  Arianna cleared her throat quietly, he turned around immediately, his face creasing into a warm smile which froze the moment he clapped eyes on her.

  Fire leaped into his turquoise eyes and before she could guess his intent, he was marching right up the rest of the stairs to her, his face dark as a thundercloud.

  “What the hell is wrong with you?” he yelled right in her face

  Arianna stiffened, her chin jutting out stubbornly as she gave him a basilisk-like glare of her own. “There is nothing wrong with me, thank you very much,” she informed him with an offended huff.

  “Why are you dressed like that? Don’t you know what could happen?”

  “My own mother got me this dress so if you have a problem with it, I suggest you take it up with her!” she shot back. “And at this point, I don’t give a crap for what your fevered imagination thinks may happen!”

  Angrily, she jerked her arm from his grasp and flounced down the stairs, fighting tears with every step. She had expected him to be overcome with lust or at least see her as a woman for once, and instead he had acted as though she were some poor relation from some backwater state come to embarrass him in front of his adoring fans in his precious Santa Fe. That was what he feared would happen.

  With a muffled oath, Dylan grabbed her arm and jerked her into his arms pulling her flush against him as he crushed her mouth to his in the same motion.

  Arianna stilled; she was in the presence of a practiced seducer, she recognized dimly as Dylan slanted his firm mouth across her soft, pouty lips with rough urgency. Tingles of excitement raced down her spine as she helplessly wound her arms around his neck, unconsciously molding her soft plaint body to his hard muscular frame. Dylan deepened the kiss, desire exploding in his body as his arms tightened around the enticing woman in his arms. His tongue delved into her mouth, stroking and caressing as his large, warm palm trailed to the hem of her short gown, lifted it and then smoothed over one bare cheek of her bottom.

  The top of Dylan’s head almost came off when he discovered that she was wearing a G-string. He caressed the soft mound of flesh under his palm again, wringing an intense moan from Arianna’s throat. His mouth moved with hungry, persuasive insistence over hers as she clung tighter to him.

  Dylan moved his left hand from the small of her back, over her midriff, and upwards to close over one breast that fit perfectly into his palm. Arianna gasped at his touch and the small sound was like a bucket of ice water; what was he doing? She was his step-sister!

  Hurriedly he jerked his hands off her and took a quick step back, his blue eyes darkened to an almost black shade.

  Arianna’s forest-green eyes clashed with his, wide and filled with arousal and bewilderment.

  “Dylan?”

  “That’s what happens when you dress like a slut!” he bit out.

  The moment the words passed his lips, he wished he could call them back. Arianna stiffened, her face going blank and smooth like a porcelain doll. Wordlessly, she turned and walked the rest of the way down the stairs.

  CHAPTER THREE

  Dylan silently called himself ten kinds of fool as he sped through the streets in his Aston Martin. Arianna had been silent ever since they’d left the house and he was still kicking himself.

  He knew exactly why he had made that comment; he was intensely attracted to his step-sister and while he ordinarily would have made a play for her, she seemed so young. Sometimes he could not believe she was all of twenty-two; she looked so young and fresh and unspoiled. But she was definitely a woman and not a girl. Every time she walked into a room, his heart slammed straight into his chest and he went hard as a rock; in fact from the first time he saw her, it had been all he could do to keep his hands to himself. He had been ignoring her since she arrived with his parents because from the moment he saw her, he knew she was trouble.

  “Arianna?” he said, looking over at her now.

  Silence.

  “Arianna?” he repeated.

  She continued to stare straight ahead, presenting him a blank, cool profile that perversely made him want to shake her.

  “Please talk to me,” he pleaded, resting his hand on her arm.

  She jerked her hand away, her face turning to his as she warned in acid disgust, “Keep your lecherous hands off me.”

  “Arianna!”

  “I may be a slut, but even I have my standards!” she spat, her face alive with electrified wrath.

  With a muffled oath, Dylan shot a quick glance at the rear-view mirror; they were on a lonely stretch of road with no cars from either direction. In one swift motion, he turned the car onto a dirt road he had discovered some years back, driving until they were hidden from view of the main road.

  “What are you doing?” she demanded. Her eyes scanned the lonely bushes enveloping them and she looked at him again, feeling a surprising tickle of fear. “You’re not going to kill me are you?” she asked hesitantly.

  His fulminating glare was answer enough.

  He pulled the car to a stop and stared down at his hands for a minute. When he looked up at her, his eyes were remorseful. “I’m sorry Ari. I didn’t mean to say that,” he said softly.

  His expression as he looked at her was open, honest and sincere and she relaxed, leaning back against the headrest.

  “Then why did you?” she enquired softly.

  “Because you have been driving me nuts from the moment you appeared in my driveway,” he admitted roughly, his voice dark and sinful as hot chocolate.

  Startled, Arianna’s eyes flew to his face and her breath caught in her throat as she saw his expression. His turquoise eyes were so tumultuous and stormy, they were
almost black and as she watched, his dark gaze dipped to her full pouty lips. Passion arched in the air between them, raw and hard and as though by unspoken mutual consent, they reached for each other at the same time and their lips came together in fevered combustion.

  Passion raged between the pair of them burning so hot and fast that Arianna almost forgot to breathe. Her senses soared as he plundered her lips with his. She could feel his body hardening against her and she moaned as he pulled her tighter against him. She moved against him, wanting to feel more of him and unconsciously shoved her body deeper into his arms.

  “God you’re so sexy Arianna,” he moaned against her skin. “I’ve been in a serious sweat since I caught sight of you the first time.”

  Dylan’s hand trailed straight to her cleavage, gently caressing the bare expanse of flesh before pushing the material of her dress to the side and baring her breasts to his touch. His lips trailed from her lips to her neck, biting and licking and leaving a trail of fire behind.

  Arianna arched against him mindlessly, urging him on with her cries. His other hand delved beneath the short hem of her dress, swept up her thigh and came to rest in the juncture of her thighs.

  “Dylan,” she gasped trying desperately to clamp her legs together.

  “Trust me okay?” he murmured against her breast right before he opened his warm mouth and took one thrusting nipple between his lips. Pleasure pooled between her thighs immediately and she arched against him. Dylan’s hands trailed down to her legs and his long fingers stroked the sensitive nub of flesh at her core.

  Arianna sighed with pleasure; her legs falling wide open to give him access. Dylan cupped the mound of flesh between her thighs savouring her breathless response to his every caress.

  He dipped one long finger into her warm, wet, willing passage, gasping himself as he felt her incredibly tight walls close around the one finger.

  “I can’t wait,” he told her urgently as he shoved his seat backwards as far as it would go.

  Arianna climbed over to the driver’s side and straight onto his laps, facing the steering away from him. Dylan grunted as he worked his fly free and his fat, turgid penis sprang free. He gently guided the head of his penis to Arianna’s glistening wet opening and she moaned encouragement as he shifted her panties to the side and rubbed the head of his penis against her entrance.

  Slowly, he entered her, grunting involuntarily as her tight passage enveloped him in a tight grip.

  “God, you’re fucking tight!” he groaned.

  “Yeah?” she moaned.

  “Oh yeah!” he grunted as he shoved into her to the hilt, his pulse beating a wild tattoo in his as liquid fire sped through his veins.

  He began to move, thrusting upwards and into her again and again and again. Arianna undulated against him, twisting her hips this way and that as he pounded into her. Dylan growled, low and hard in his throat and impossibly deepened his thrusts, changing the angle at the same time. Nothing in her entire life could have prepared Arianna for the onslaught of sensations coursing through her and every last one of her toes curled in reaction.

  “Please don’t stop,” she moaned mindlessly as he rode her hard.

  “I won’t,” he promised on a groan changing the angle of his thrusts yet again.

  The pleasure was too intense; the dam burst and suddenly Arianna was cumming as wave after wave of pleasure coursed through her; her vaginal walls clenching and unclenching around his hard, thick member.

  He grunted and thrust harder into her as he ground out through clenched teeth, “You are so hot! So fucking hot! I want you so much!”

  Dylan renewed his thrusts, this time moving faster than ever beneath her. His fat penis glided easily in and out of her and she moaned with each thrust. Suddenly, he was jerking and bucking and sighing her name. He emptied his seed straight into her tight, wet passage.

  Arianna drifted back to earth slowly as droplets of sweat worked their way down her face and onto her chest.

  At Dylan’s gentle urging, Arianna slowly pulled him out of her and then gingerly manoeuvred her way to her own seat on the passenger’s side trying not to wince at the soreness between her legs. The man was huge! Her hair was a riotous, tangled mess and she desperately tried to restore it to some semblance of order with her fingers.

  Dylan’s eyes met hers as he also tried to shift his clothes back into order. Something flickered briefly in his eyes but was gone before she could decipher what it was.

  “Are you alright?” he asked, not quite meeting her eyes.

  She stared at his profile, surprised. Why was he suddenly acting all cold and distant again, she wondered?

  “Yeah. You?” she asked watching him closely.

  Dylan stared straight ahead, his eyes fastened on some invisible spot beyond the windscreen. Then his gaze flicked to her face and Arianna felt suffocated; he looked as cold and distant as he had ever looked.

  “I am not a cheat,” he said quietly.

  “Excuse me?”

  “I am not a cheat,” he enunciated. “Linda was never my girlfriend you know? So I did not cheat on her with you; just in case you were wondering.”

  “Oh? Nice to know I guess,” she said, nonplussed.

  “No Arianna, it’s not nice. I lied and made you think she was my girlfriend because for the first time in my life, I felt the urge to hide behind a woman’s skirt!” he finished, his voice going up an octave.

  “Why are you yelling at me?” she whispered tremulously, her lips trembling. He wasn’t making much sense.

  “My point,” he said, visibly reaching for control, “Is that I had to lie just to keep you at arm’s length and even that did not work.”

  “I see. And you are telling me this because?” she asked striving to keep the hurt from her voice.

  “I didn’t want this; I didn’t want any of this!” he bit out.

  Arianna’s green eyes narrowed into dangerous slits as she retorted, “So by your definition, I raped you?”

  “Okay that didn’t come out right,” he conceded turning fully to face her, his expression carefully blank as he met her eyes. “My point is, you are little more than a child”

  “Don’t you dare!”

  “And,” he continued just as if she had not spoken, “even if you weren’t, you’re my sister”

  “Step sister,” she corrected furiously, feeling bile rising at the back of her throat.

  “Step-sister then,” he agreed. “But in the end, I am not looking for”

  “A relationship? Neither am I!”Arianna assured him frigidly, drawing her anger about her like a cloak as she lifted her chin.

  “Are you going to let me finish?” Dylan asked exasperatedly, trying to ignore the hurt he saw shining in her eyes.

  “By all means, Dylan. Go ahead; finish,” she invited, leaning her head back against the backrest and shutting her eyes; the very picture of calm. Only her knew that a turbulent storm raged inside her and it was all she could do to fall to her knees and beg Dylan not to say what she knew he wanted to say.

  He stared at her gamine face, his eyes roving hungrily over her features now that her eyes were closed. Something squeezed in his chest, so tight he could barely breathe and his lips parted to take in more oxygen.

  She looked so calm and unruffled and here he was struggling with words. He had always been a playboy; probably because he had made his first billion at age twenty-two; his good looks hadn’t hurt either. He always knew how to run for the hills after sex but with Arianna, it was surprisingly difficult; letting her go felt surprisingly hurtful.

  “What? Cat got your tongue?” she asked, eyes still shut.

  His gaze jerked away from her lips and he said with deliberate boredom infused in his voice, “This was fun, is all I’m saying Arianna. It can never happen again. Your mother would have my head!”

  Silence.

  “I mean, not that I regret it; it’s just that you’re a child and I don’t want you to get ideas like”r />
  “Like what? White picket fences and a dozen kids? Of course you’re just arrogant enough to think every woman you fuck wants the ‘protection of your name’ which is an antiquated notion if you ask me. Relax Vanderbilt, your name and your virtue are safe from here on out,” she assured him bitingly, eyes still shut.

  He stared at her smooth features, feeling that urge to shake her again; to rattle her. He wanted to ask her why she was letting him go without a fight; no woman had ever done that and strangely, it made him angry that Arianna was.

  “So we’re good?” he asked instead.

  “We’re perfect. Now please take me home, I need to get out of these clothes,” she commanded, eyes still firmly shut so he wouldn’t see the tears behind her lids.

  With a sigh, Dylan started the car and turned around in the direction of his mansion which at this moment gave him about as much joy as a dilapidated hut!

  CHAPTER FOUR

  “Oh I’m so excited! I have never been more excited in my entire life!” Penelope Vanderbilt declared as she tried on yet another pair of slinky black heels.

  Arianna barely refrained from rolling her eyes. Her mother was forever using that phrase. She said it when the milkman delivered fresh milk; she said it when she met her third husband, Will Vanderbilt for the first time; she said it when Arianna got into college; she even said it every time it rained for the first time.

  “Mum, could you wrap it up? My feet hurts,” she whined, collapsing reluctantly onto the same cushion the harried attendant at Bende’s had offered her when she walked in. Her mum had been dragging her through just about every shop in Santa Fe and after watching the woman ooh and aah over every pair of shoe this side of the planet, it was getting a bit old.

  Will had asked them to attend a dinner party cum unveiling of a new artist at a friend’s Galleria tonight with him. Evidently artists were a dome a dozen in Santa Fe but this one seemed to be a special find. As much as she hated to admit it, she was excited. She had been moping about the house all week after her tryst with Dylan because he had upped and left the very next day claiming a business emergency in Los Angeles.