Dante watches his cock head threaten to turn white against her tightness. As he grits his teeth, his muscles growing taut across his whole body, he forces his way inside, her pussy tearing open like the skin of a drum.
He's never heard his sister moan in such a way. He can understand it, because as soon as he realizes it, he hears similar sounds coming from his own body. There is nothing in the world like it. He could relive that moment a million times and be the happiest man alive.
He now has it.
He now has her virginity.
He's so fucking successful he can rewrite history. Sash is his. Fuck Jason Walker, Sash has come home.
With his cock firmly inside her, he lets go of her hair to wrap both of his hands around her hips and pull her body onto him. There is no time now for gentle caresses, loving hugs or delicate touches, Dante wants one thing, and he's not going to stop until he gets it.
Starting slowly, he draws his cock out, delighted by how tight her pussy feels. Although he's managed to push his way inside her, she's still so tight it feels like something strong is gripping his cock and doesn't plan to ever let it go. It's an incredible sensation and not one that Sash can control. With her cheek rested against the back of her hand and her eyes closed, Sash can think of nothing but how good it feels to have him take her.
Her pussy feels like it's on fire with him inside her. She has never been so sensitive, and each movement, no matter how fast or slow, pushes her one step closer to exploding. She knew it would be incredible, but she never imagined just how incredible it would really feel.
When she lost her virginity to Jason, it was in the front seat of his car, jacking herself up and down on his cock, and it lasted all of thirty seconds. That was after Jason had come while trying to put a condom on. That time it hadn't hurt half way near as much as everyone said it would. Half way near as much as it has with Dante. She likes that too, the fact that it hurt with him, the fact that he's made her feel both pleasure and pain in extreme and significant quantities. Isn't that what makes a relationship work? To be able to have someone make you feel?
"Oh fuck, yeah, right there."
Sash can feel him against her G-spot. No-one else has ever been able to stimulate it like Dante can, not even herself. Dante growls again, fighting the urge to change position to make himself more comfortable. He reacts to Sash's delight, fucking her harder and faster on each stroke, his balls stinging sharply as they smack against her pussy lips.
He was right.
This is the best thing either of them could ever do. This is the best present that Dante could ever give her. How could she ever have doubted him when the sensation feels this good. It is like being fucked for the first time by her stepbrother, but even better than that, because each of them have three years more experience, and three years of built up desire and anticipation. Dante can feel it closing in. Her pussy is already spasming uncontrollably against his cock, and he doesn't know how much more he can take. Sash either. She's on the edge and rolling in.
"Come inside me, Dante", she squeals. "Oh you better fucking come inside me."
Dante doesn't plan on doing anything else. He can't take away his stepsister's virginity and not fill her full of his cum.
"I'm going to fill your pussy up, Sash, don't you fucking worry about that."
She feels her knees weaken under him, his weight crashing into her magnificently, pushing her towards the floor momentarily until he rescues her at the last minute and pulls her back to him. Pump after glorious pump he fucks her, his swollen cock rock hard and full of purpose.
"I'm going to fuck you until you break."
Sash melts at that.
It could be the meaning of his words, or just the sound, she doesn't know. It could be something as simple as a droplet of water that runs from Dante's brow to explode against her back, or the steam rising from the bathroom floor, that tickles the soft skin of her nipples. It could be the secret she's keeping inside her, the dream that pulls it all together or it could be just how perfect she always feels with him.
His hands so tight against her hips they'll leave bruises, the tips of his fingers going white. Her pussy tender and tight, each thrust exploding electricity out across her skin. Her breathing shallow and rapid, her body trembling so much she can barely control it. Dante in behind her like a God. His body rigid and firm, his eyes focused, storm ridden.
Like that it takes hold.
She feels it rush through her like a burst of adrenaline, only to realize that it's only the first drop of a devastating flood to come. It extends out across her body in pulses, until she's pressed against the floor and she feels like she's floating. Even though she hasn't touched it, her clit spasms uncontrollably. Her whole body tingles as her pussy convulses, and there is a moment before it hits where time feels like it stops completely. In that moment, the moment just before the world begins to spin and Sash explodes in a flurry of incredible, orgasmic bliss, she understands the meaning of perfection.
She can't speak for moaning. She can do nothing but let her body go limp, as every single one of her nerve endings screams out in joyous delight. She's come before and come hard with Dante, but nothing has ever been like this. This really is the pinnacle of orgasmic perfection.
In his hands she squirms, her back arching and flexing. She jerks her hips away from him as her pussy expands and contracts around his cock, and he has to hold her in place just to stop her from pulling away completely.
Goose-bumps break the surface of her skin, and despite the room not being cold, he can see her shivering. A smile breaks out across his lips. Sash is trying to push herself away from him but he won't let her. It took all of his concentration not to come while Sash exploded in orgasm, her pussy gripping his cock hard and tugging it into her, and he wants to take his reward. Carefully, he lowers Sash to the ground, making sure he doesn't slip out of her. Sash tries to crawl away, but Dante pulls her back to him.
"Please. I can't take any more."
"Oh yes you can, Sash."
With his knees he pushes her legs out, so she's splayed on the floor in front of him like she's been caught mid breaststroke. With both hands back around her waist, he holds her in place and begins to fuck her, jacking his pelvis back and forth like a rabbit.
It doesn't take him long to find his rhythm and push himself back towards the edge. Sash screams as he takes her. She tries to reach out for something to hold, but there's nothing along the flat tiled floor to grab onto.
He pushes her legs even wider, and lifts her ass into the air. His stepsister's virginity, finally. Like this, spread on the floor in front of him, she looks perfect. This is the image he always wanted to see.
With a scream, his neck twisted up towards the ceiling, water from the shower still cascading around them and Sash so far into another orgasmic wave she thinks she's going to piss herself, Dante comes.
He pulls her onto his cock and fills her full of his seed, deliberately and spectacularly.
Afterwards, as though the culmination of it immediately leaves his body without energy, he falls forwards onto her, his knees weak, his breathing soft and rapturous. There he hugs himself into her, clawing her off the ground and up into his arms.
He's exhausted. Spent, completely.
Sash is a quivering mess of sensitivity, liable to explode as soon as someone blows on her. Neither of them can speak. Dante's heart races while Sash breathes quickly and hard, the sound echoing off the walls around them.
It's not how most people experience their first, but Dante and Sash aren't bothered by that. Bruised, overwhelmed, and absolutely elated, the two of them lie there like earth's very first man and woman.
Some time later, when Sash's heart rate has finally returned to normal, and Dante feels the indication of energy return to his body, he gathers her up in his arms, and like he has done a number of times before, carries her across the threshold and into the bedroom like a hunter heading home with his prize.
Chapter 33<
br />
As the sun rises over New York, water laps against the legs of a gray, naked body face down in the sand on Coney Island Beach. For a moment there is nothing but the rhythmic sweep of the tide, which looks like it's trying to drag the body back into the depths of the sea beyond, until a dog runs over attracted by the putrid smell.
It sniffs at the dead man's hair, turns towards its owner, barks and runs back to him. Even from a hundred meters away, he knows what it is.
***
Sash sleeps peacefully, cradled in the arms of her stepbrother, her legs curled up and folded into his. Dante runs his fingers through her hair, sets his hand on the edge of her hip and buries his nose in the nape of her neck, careful not to wake her.
Excited by the prospect of a future with Sash, and unable to take his mind off the pending ransom threat, Dante has slept little. He's positive that deciding to deal with it in the way that he has done will turn out to be the right move, but he's eager to have that fact confirmed beyond any doubt.
Caulder has done what he needed to do, and if it turns out to be Henry, which Dante is almost a hundred percent convinced it is, he'll find out soon enough. Breaking the news to Sash may be a little more difficult, but he has her now, that is never going to change.
He kisses across Sash's shoulders, familiarizes himself with the star chart of freckles and moles that pepper her back, and slides his arm out from underneath her. Sash turns with it, desperate not to let him go so easily.
"What time is it?" she whispers, her eyes still shut against the swelling light.
"Early. Go back to sleep."
"Where are you going?"
Instinctively, she pulls him back to her.
"Nowhere, I'm right here", Dante says, pulling himself upright.
He stays like that a moment longer while Sash rests her head on his thigh, curling up into him. When she's fallen asleep again, he slides carefully out from underneath her, replacing his thigh with a pillow in the process, and heads out onto the terrace.
From here, he can see out towards the sea, the vastness of the pacific ocean beyond, which spreads out in the thin morning light like a silver blanket.
Stood atop one of the largest buildings in the city, a hundred square meters of swimming pool and landscaped gardens around him, his queen still asleep in their chamber and the whole of the city below, Dante feels like a God. He feels completely invincible.
He showers, the memories of yesterday's incredible fuck coming back to him so vividly his cock springs rock hard and the resistance of relieving himself becomes an even greater distraction than Sash's father and the licentious photos he's taken, pulls on a toweling robe and orders breakfast.
While Dante sips freshly squeezed orange juice, the sun still low but strong enough to dapple the terrace with warmth, he checks his watch. Twenty two hours of the twenty four are up. In a couple more, he'll know the outcome of yesterday's attack, and for Sash's sake, he hopes he's wrong.
"Did you order enough for me?"
Dante turns to the voice.
Sash is stood in the doorway, one leg bent behind the other, her arm raised above her head to balance herself against the door frame. As she stretches, the hem of her T-shirt lifts, revealing the slight bump of her belly and a hint of her navel. She's wearing expensive panties that are just about see through enough to drive Dante wild.
"You should be resting. You had a major operation yesterday."
Sash comes over to the table and sits down on Dante's lap, her hand immediately going to a patch of bare thigh that sticks out in the gap where his toweling robe falls open.
"You said it wasn't invasive."
Sash's hand snakes up to where she knows his cock will be.
"I was talking about what happened after. I thought you might need to rest because of it."
Sash is delighted to find that Dante isn't wearing any boxer-shorts. She gives his cock a squeeze and watches his eyes light up as she does so.
"I've rested already."
She swings her legs over him so she's in a straddle. "I'm hungry for more."
She spreads his gown so it spills into the chair either side of him.
"That right?"
Sash bites her lip a little. As soon as he sees her do it, Dante wants to do it to her too. He can't help but mimic the action and when Sash sees it she leans it for a kiss.
"Uh-huh", Sash says, her tongue rich with his taste.
Dante pushes the T-shirt off her shoulder a little, exposing her clavicle. First he runs his finger over the delicate bone and then he goes to bite it. Sash squashes her head against his, the sensation too much to bear. She can feel him up against her, wanton and restless.
With a swing of her legs, she's stood up again, Dante left to watch her, exposed and twitching. Sash takes a croissant, and without a word, stuffs the thing into her mouth. She smiles down at Dante, spins on her heels and heads back towards the french windows. Dante can't help but smile.
"Where are you going?"
Her back to him, Sash shrugs her shoulders. Just before she gets to the door, she turns, the croissant in her hand now.
"I'm going to have a bath. Want to come and join me?"
Dante is up before she's even finished the sentence, chasing the squealing girl through the huge hotel suite and back into the bathroom.
On the table outside, Dante's cell phone begins to ring.
'Caulder', comes up as the caller ID.
Chapter 34
There are bubbles everywhere. They climb up the side of the bath and ooze out over the top, drifting lazily to the floor. Sash breaks the surface of the water with her toes, lifts her leg into the air and observes the way the soap runs down her skin.
Dante watches his stepsister with admiration, a stolen moment in the natural fabric of someone else's life.
"Your skin'll wrinkle if you stay in for too long."
The bathtub is a roll top Victorian on pedestal legs, big enough to fit a whole family. Sash pulls herself towards the edge nearest her stepbrother, foam collecting in her hair as she goes.
"Come back in, and we'll get wrinkled together."
When he doesn't answer she splashes him with soapy water.
Dante takes the two small strides to the bathtub. He pulls his sister towards him and kisses her deeply.
Sash tires to pull him back into the water, but she's not strong enough. Realizing she'll just have to wait, she kicks away from him lazily, and stretches out on her back, pretending not to be bothered. With her ears underneath the water, the sound of Dante leaving the room comes to her in hollow thuds.
She stays like that for a while, one hand on her belly, trying to discern what he's doing by the way the sounds are interpreted by the bath tub, before she sits up, reaches for the control panel behind her, takes out the remote control and clicks on the TV.
She'll tell him over lunch, she thinks, when he hasn't got a chance to run away. It's not like another few hours is going to make much difference.
Sash flicks from channel to channel, happy to idle away a little bit more time in the water, with or without her stepbrother. She passes cartoons, old films, soaps, shopping offers and the news channel twice before deciding to settle upon it, the New York skyline falling away behind the reporter, a distinct and incomparable reminder of home.
"-Found this morning by a pedestrian out walking their dog", the square shaped reporter comments.
Sash settles back into the water, having the TV on in the background enough to satisfy the momentary absence of her stepbrother. She turns water around her body and investigates the shape of the tap hole with her big toe.
"Lying naked, face down in the sand at the edge of the waterline-", the reporter continues. "-On a stretch of Coney Island Beach hidden away from the multitude of tourists that flock their way further up the coastline."
Sash rests her head on the edge of the tub, a wet flannel draped across her forehead. In the bedroom, she can hear Dante getting dressed. A boy like him or a g
irl like me?
"-Grey and distended, the body could have been in the water for some time."
A droplet of water gathers at the base of the tap and dives into the water.
Dante pulls a shirt over rigid muscle.
Bubbles pop and fizz against the rising steam.
"The young man has been identified as twenty one year old Jason Edwood Walker, a promising athlete from Harriet Avenue, Brooklyn."
It takes Sash several moments before she recognizes the name. As if someone has suddenly just thrown a toaster into the water, her eyes pop open and she springs into action. She tosses the flannel aside and pulls herself towards the TV, sending huge waves of bath water onto the floor in the process.
An old college photo of a young Jason Walker dressed in his football shirt and crouching over a ball comes up on the screen. It is the same man Caulder had tied up in a warehouse under Dante's instructions. Sash's blood runs cold. The remote control falls out of her hand and plops trivially into the water.
"-Although the cause of death has yet to be determined, the police are deciding to treat the incident as suspicious."
The color drains from Sash's face. She can't believe what she's just seen. Until two weeks ago, she'd not had cause to say Jason's name since they split up several years ago. Now he's turned up naked on a beach, the cause of his death unknown.
She doesn't know what to think. Or she knows what she is thinking and can't believe she's thinking it. Before she can decide how to process the information and proceed, the reporter has passed back to the studio, and something else, something even bigger is causing goosebumps to break out across her skin, and her pulse to race so much her heart is skipping beats just to catch up with it.
"-Back to our main news story of the day", the slick haired anchor says, directly to the camera. "Billionaire businessman Dante Hix, owner of Hix Industries, amongst a huge number of other properties and investments across America, has been caught red handed with his stepsister Sash Cooper."
Heated: A Stepbrother Romance (Full Length Novel) Page 18
