Giving My Billionaire Stepbrother A Baby

by Stephanie Brother

  It comes to her quicker than she imagines possible. Dante is on the edge too, ready to close in.

  “Make me come”, Sash pleads, her breathing peaking in shallow, guttural gasps, her fingers moving rapidly to latch onto something before it runs away again. It has been a long time since she’s pleasured herself in this way, and even longer since she’s felt this turned on by it. It’s been a long time too since she’s been able to make herself come so quickly.

  “Oh fuck”, Dante says, “Your pussy feels so good.”

  “Come with me”, Sash demands, right at the edge of it. “Come inside me.”

  “I’m going to come”, Dante confesses, his cock throbbing at the sight of his stepsister already at the point of no return. “Oh fuck, I can’t-”

  “Yes, uh, that’s it”, Sash cries, as she imagines her stepbrother’s cock head swelling inside her, her own uncontrollable orgasm about to descend rapidly upon her. “Fuck. Oh fuck, I’m going to come. Fuck.”

  The strength of it is more than she expects. As it explodes out from her throbbing sex, sending electric like tingles into every single one of her nerve endings, she can’t help but scream. With her pussy convulsing strongly, her belly spasming hard, and her legs jerking out uncontrollably, she arches herself upwards and then collapses onto her side, folded into a fetal position. As she continues to throb and heave, as though struck down by a bolt of lightning, and trapped momentarily before it decides to eventually leave her, wave after glorious wave of increasing pleasure filters through her body.

  The sensation is out of this world. For a moment, she forgets where she is, overwhelmed by a feeling of absolute, unadulterated perfection. She is unable to do anything else but lie there like an epileptic in the throes of a powerful fit, and let it wash over her, her fingers held tightly between her legs and her feet locked together by the ankle, in case moving them might make the sensation too much to bear.

  She cannot think for sensitivity. She cannot begin to slow down her thoughts. She is as close to perfection as she has ever come, a sense of fulfillment galloping through her, more real than anything she’s ever felt in the last three years. And then, like a mountain appearing through thinning cloud, she remembers the man on the other side of the glass. The man who she’s shared this with. The man who made her come.

  Breathing heavily, like some kind of trapped animal a passer-by might not be able to guess is caught in the wonderful net of pleasure not pain, she risks pulling a hand away from her pussy to press it up against the glass.

  Dante sees the gesture. He raises his head, presses his palm against hers and lets out a deep grunt of animalistic need.

  Chapter 5

  She’s still tingling when she finally collects herself enough to get her clothes back on. Dressed again, she takes one last look through the mirror, desperate to see what she knows she can’t on the other side.

  “Well?”

  Suddenly Isabella is behind her, and Sash gives a little jump. She hadn’t heard the door open.

  “That good, huh?” Isabella says when she sees the color in Sash’s cheeks.

  “You scared me”, Sash says.

  “The first time is always the best.”

  Like an old friend who’s shared the same experience, and knows its special qualities intimately, Isabella takes her arm. “Come on”, she says, guiding her back to the door. “It won’t be too long before you get to do that again.”

  Dante is waiting for her out in the foyer, leaning casually over the desk and talking to one of the dancers. Sash collects her coat and eyes her stepbrother suspiciously. The dancer smiles at Sash, before disappearing back into the shadows, swallowed by the belly of the building. Isabella and the girl with the pigtails watch on, as though the only audience members for an intimate performance.

  “What are you doing here?” Sash asks him, her voice taut with suspicious curiosity.

  “I like to check on all my staff, especially on their first night”, Dante says evenly. “How did you get on?”

  “Fine”, Sash says, trying to read him.

  “Oh I reckon you did better than fine”, Isabella interjects, one hand around her waist now as if to show her off. “You made one of our clients very happy indeed. That’s a special skill.”

  Sash starts to go a little red, but it doesn’t stop Isabella from continuing. “In fact, he was so happy, he even gave you a tip.”

  “That right?” Dante says, raising an eyebrow. “A natural, huh?”

  “Yeah, right”, Sash says. “Who isn’t a natural at taking their clothes off?”

  “Some people just know how to do it with style, that’s all honey”, Isabella says. “So when are you coming back?”

  “I don’t know”, she says, turning to her brother. Isabella looks at him too. She has a wide smile across her face like someone who’s already worked out the plot of a mystery novel. Sash sees it and wonders what’s buried there.

  “We’ll work something out”, Dante says.

  “I hope so”, Isabella agrees. “This one’s quite something.”

  “Thank you”, Sash says. She doesn’t know quite how she feels. Her skin is still buzzing under Isabella’s light touch, and she feels almost more naked now than she did with her clothes off. She’s so self conscious, every time someone looks at her, even if it’s only to share a sentiment or a smile, she feels herself go red.

  “How much did I make?”, Sash asks. The question itself feels like the dirtiest thing she’s done all night, and because of that, she almost doesn’t ask it.

  “Boss?”, Isabella asks theatrically, fluttering her eyelids. “Would you like to pay your new dancer?”

  The girl with the pigtails smiles, her chipped tooth catching on her lip again.

  For a moment, Sash thinks the ‘your’ in the question is emphasized in a strange way, and then wonders if she’s misheard it completely.

  “Sure”, Dante says. “Why not.”

  Isabella breaks away from Sash to go and open up the cash register. “Normally the girls have to wait until the end of the week when the accounting is done”, she says, as the cash drawer snaps opens, “but on the first night, we like to make an exception.”

  Sash watches her lift out a huge wad of banknotes, before counting them down onto the desk between them. It is more money than Sash has seen for months. It’s certainly more than she’s ever made in a night before, the most ever for dancing.

  “A thousand dollars”, she says when she’s done.

  “A thousand dollars?” Sash repeats, absolutely stunned. She looks at her stepbrother. Dante shrugs his shoulders.

  “You earned it”, he says.

  “But a thousand dollars?” Sash says, still in disbelief.

  “He’s a good client. He can afford it.”

  “How much do I have to pay for the booth?”, Sash asks, suddenly remembering it.

  “Oh don’t you worry about that, sweetie”, Isabella says. “He paid for that too. Now, are you going to stare at that all night long or pick it up and put it in your pocket where it belongs?”

  Sash looks from the money up to Isabella and then back down to the pile of notes. Quickly, she picks it up and stuffs it into her pocket, in case somehow they’ve made a mistake.

  “I could get used to this”, Sash says with a smile.

  “Amen to that”, Isabella agrees.

  “Come on”, Dante says. “I’ll give you a ride home.”

  “That isn’t necessary”, Sash says, fingering the cash, keen to know where it is at all times. “You know, I can take a taxi now.”

  “Come on, don’t be ridiculous, I’ve got the car waiting outside.”

  The security guard hasn’t moved. He’s still smoking the same cigar, the smoke crawling up through the shadows.

  “Goodnight, Boss”, he says as he watches Dante and Sash leave.

  Rain begins to fall in a fine mist. The neon lights of a strip of shops fall into shallow puddles that make the street look like a digital artists
paint pallet. Sash watches the world go by, the darkness of the night turning the city into a different place entirely, almost unrecognizable to her. There are a thousand things they want to say to each other, but the journey passes them by in a heavy silence, the jigsaw puzzle pieces falling into place for Sash one step at a time. At her block of apartments, and even though she insists against it, Dante chaperones her to the door.

  “So this is it”, he says at the threshold to her shabby one bedroom unit.

  “This is it”, Sash confirms, turning to face him. She spreads herself against the door, trying as best as she can to block his access to it, ready to say goodbye.

  “You going to invite me in?” Dante asks hopefully.

  “No.” she says firmly.

  He places his arms against the wall either side of her, trapping her in.

  “You know-“, Dante begins and then trails off.

  He is close to her, closer than he has been for a long time. Now, there is no glass to keep his desire hidden.

  “Don’t”, Sash says. Unable to control it, she starts to well up.

  “Sash”, Dante begins again.

  Her eyes drop from his to the worn carpet and he knows she knows. She digs at a patch with the toe of her boot that shows the covered wooden floorboards below. A little larger and she could fall into it, she could avoid all of this. She wipes a single solitary tear away from her cheek. When she looks up again, it’s because he has taken her chin and lifted it lightly with his index finger, and she has let him. Confidence, Sash remembers. He always had the power of confidence and it was something she remembers now was one of the reasons she fell for him in the first place. She always looked up to her older stepbrother, always admired his ability to get what he wanted. Ended up resenting him for it too.

  “Please”, Sash says. She wants to push his hand away but she can’t. Instead she takes it and holds it against her cheek for a stolen moment in case she never gets the chance again.

  “You’re an ass-hole, Dante. You know that. A fucking ass-hole.”

  Now she allows herself to get angry. She throws his hand away and folds her arms protectively over her chest. “You should leave.”

  “I only wanted-“, Dante says, again unable to finish his sentence. “I’ve missed you, Sash.”

  “And that’s how you choose to show me?”

  “It’s not like that.”

  “What is it like? You exploited me”, Sash says, getting more angry as she says it, as though speaking the words out load allow her to understand better the result of what he has done. She shakes her head in disbelief “Why now? You broke my trust. You lied to me. How could you do that to me.”

  “Tell me you didn’t want it too”, Dante says. “Tell me you don’t want it now.”

  “We can’t”, Sash shouts, shaking her head, tears flowing freely now, streaming down her cheeks. “Isn’t that the whole point? Isn’t that what you told me three years ago?”

  “Listen to me, Sash”, Dante says, trying to reason with her. “I’ve never wanted anything else. I’ve only ever wanted you. You know that.”

  “Leave”, Sash says again, unable to push him away herself. “Leave before I make you.”

  “No”, Dante says firmly. “Not this time.”

  “Please, Dante”, Sash says again, but the words are limp and have no value. They dribble to the floor with her tears, lost in a world of uncertain conclusions.

  Dante pulls her towards him. Before she can stop it, his lips are pressed against hers, hot and wanton. Only now does she find the strength to push him away. For a moment they look at each other, a three year gap condensing into a heartbeat, like an unexplainable tear in the fabric of existence.

  Before the gap expands again, and Sash changes her mind forever, she pulls him back into her. Now her lips are the ones pressing, urgent with desire. As though it hasn’t left her at all, her skin tingles with heightened sensitivity, her stomach turning butterflies that weaken her at the knees. Once again, she’s eighteen years old, in the bedroom she grew up in and dancing for her older stepbrother. Once again she’s in the hot, desperate clutches of an impossible love. A moment later they are almost breaking the door down to get through it.

  Chapter 6

  With reckless abandon they smash through the apartment, fighting each other to remove their clothes. A lamp crashes to the floor, elbowed there as they sweep past it, the bulb exploding spectacularly in their wake. A shelf spits its books angrily, like square paper birds attempting to fly, while ornaments and decorations, pictures and prints end up in shattered pieces across the floor.

  A T-shirt curls up in a crumpled mess in the corner of the room, and for the second time that night, a bra lies next to it. As Sash tries to guide him to the bedroom, and Dante can’t even wait for that, lifting her up against the wall that separates the living room from the world outside it, tearing at her panties like a mad man possessed to get them off her, the whole house shakes as though a train is passing through it, a perfect physical representation of their trembling, uncontrollable lust.

  With her bare legs wrapped eagerly around his waist, he’s thick inside her before he’s even fully out of his clothes, his jeans wrestled just low enough to allow it. Holding her up against the wall, he drives himself as deep as he can go, his cock swollen by passionate need.

  There is no escaping it. No matter where she hides, no matter what she does, she will always feel the way she does about him. She can’t run away. She can’t ignore it anymore. This is how it has to be. This is the unstoppable, onward march of their impossible destiny.

  Dante grits his teeth. With a twisted grimace of determination on his rugged face, he pins her powerfully against the wall with Herculean thrusts of his hips, holding her magnificently in place between his chest and the paintwork as he ruts away, pushing her towards perfection.

  She can feel it rising inside her chest, as though the sensation has never left her. The tingles aching out across her skin, the electrical pulses rising and falling, crawling along her spine and up into her brain, back down again into her convulsing, throbbing, hyper-sensitive pussy. Fuck it feels good to have him inside her finally, to give herself over to him completely.

  Dante grunts like an uncaged animal ready to attack, the muscles taut across his neck and chest, each thrust more powerful that the last. She knows it’s drawing close. She knows that soon it will be upon him. They’ve passed the point of no return. They’ve done what she promised herself she’d never do again, what every single, solitary fiber of her being was telling her not to do. She’s opened herself up and let him back in.

  She’s moaning now, her breathing staggered and broken, her breasts rising and falling with each stolen gasp. She can’t stop this. She won’t. Not this time. Not now.

  “Come with me”, she mutters in hot, staggered breaths, the words barely leaving her lips. Even without hearing her, Dante knows exactly what she wants.

  As the edge of it pierces her like the tip of a bullet, ready to push through and tear her into a million pieces, ready to destroy the fabric of her existence and put it back together in a way it never was before, Dante disappears just that little bit deeper inside her. The sensation is almost indescribable.

  Wrapped around her stepbrother’s swollen cock, the muscles in her pussy spasming uncontrollably, Sash folds herself into him and comes hard. As the intensity of each orgasmic wave increases, her body twitches and convulses wildly, every single nerve ending screaming in uncensored, x-rated pleasure.

  Inside her, Dante swells. His balls tighten up against the moistened cord of skin that bridges the gap between her pussy and her anus, his neck twists upwards and his mouth hangs open, ready to let himself go completely.

  Sash trembles in his grasp. “Inside me”, she begs, the words no more than a whisper of sound on her lips.

  Dante can’t hold back any longer. As it explodes inside him, he bucks, feels his knees weaken and can’t help but stumble forwards, pushing Sash further i
nto the wall for fear of dropping her. He moans loudly and uncontrollably, a deep guttural sound that aches of passion and pent up desire, lifts himself up onto the balls of his feet and releases himself emphatically inside her. With his body jerking wildly against hers, a sense of overwhelming bliss cascading through him in shivers, he fills her full of his hot, viscous seed.

  Rigid with desire and still throbbing with sensitivity, a long time passes before Dante can bring himself to lower his feet and stand normally, desperate not to turn a present moment over to the past, and lose Sash again forever.

  Eventually, overwhelmed by the exhaustion of such an enormous release of energy, he allows himself to rock back onto his heels, his hand quick to slide behind his stepsister’s back to pull her into him.

  She wraps her arms around his neck and allows herself to be guided, her head rested cozily in the snug of his neck, her legs locked together behind his back. She’s not going anywhere. Tonight, tomorrow, somehow they’ll make this work. She wants to tell him, but she can’t find the words.

  Moving slowly through the debris that they’ve left behind them, stumbling like stunned victims of a life-changing event, they stagger to the bedroom, collapsing together in a mess of hot skin and ragged breath, onto the softness of the cotton duvet below them.

  “Sash”, Dante whispers, the last syllable lingering long on his tongue, an urgent need to say something, to know what they’ve done is ok, impossible now to ignore.

  “Kiss me”, Sash coos back to him, before she rolls over and stretches out her left arm, her right hand going to her collarbone.

  “Here”, she whispers, but Dante already knows. She squirms lightly as he leaves a trail of kisses along her belly, gentle touches that tickle the skin in orchestral flushes, before moving slowly towards the swollen, elevated plumpness of her perfect breasts. He manoeuvres around the puckered skin of her left nipple in kisses so delicate they barely touch her, stopping briefly to tease the tumescent nub of toughened flesh into his mouth, to explore it’s ridged and bobbled edges with the sensitive tip of his tongue.