“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.