Bastian: A Secret Baby Romance

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Bastian: A Secret Baby Romance Page 2

by Lauren Landish


  Sarah said she was happy to be my wing girl, provided she got some action as well, and we agreed to meet up downtown at eleven. It wasn't that we didn't have our own cars. Sarah drove a BMW SUV while Donald had gotten me a Lexus with the promise of something more if I wanted it when I graduated, but we both wanted to get a few drinks in us that night.

  Meeting arranged, I rolled out of bed, heading for the shower. I must have still been sleepy, or maybe just distracted from the idea of going to Eden, but when I opened the door, the first thing that greeted me was a rush of steam. It was then that I noticed the shower was on, and Sebastian was shampooing his hair.

  I stopped in my tracks, shocked. He opened his eyes after getting the last of the shampoo out of his hair, his cocky smile sending warm tendrils of arousal down below. It was then that I noticed I was still wearing only my panties, and my breasts were open to his view. I reached behind me, scrambling for the doorknob when he shut off the water, stepping out of the glass stall to stand before me.

  Naked, he was even more glorious than he was when he was working out or swimming in the pool. The water caressed his skin, all of it tracing down his muscular torso. My eyes were drawn down to his cock — I couldn't help it. Even limp from the shower, he was bigger than I thought, thicker. My fantasies of him with a ten-inch cock may have even been underestimating him. Part of me wanted to fall to my knees right there, begging him to feed me his epitome of manhood.

  Instead, I cleared my throat, finding the doorknob. "I . . . I'll wait for you to dry off," I rasped, my throat dry.

  Sebastian laughed, his cock twitching as he shook. "Come now Cassie, your eyes betray you. Go ahead and take a good look. You know you want to."

  "That's sick," I lied, betrayed as I licked my lips. "We're family."

  "Not by blood," Sebastian said. "Besides, there's nothin' wrong with looking."

  My innermost thoughts betrayed, I tore open the door, retreating to my bedroom. I made sure to lock both doors, crumpling against the bathroom door to gather myself once I knew I wouldn't be disturbed. My breathing slowed, and I thought I had myself under control when I heard Sebastian's voice from just the other side of the thin door.

  "It's all right, Cassie. Go ahead and fantasize, I know you want to. I know you've had other men, I know you're desperate to find a lover who’ll satisfy you. But I also know the truth . . . you'll never have anyone as good as me."

  "Go away, you asshole," I gasped, fighting the urge to rub myself to the sound of his voice. Sebastian's sexy chuckle answered me, and a few seconds later I heard the door to his bedroom open and then shut. I took no chances, finding a bathrobe to pull over my shoulders before unlocking the door and going in. I made damn sure to lock the door to Sebastian's room, more to stop myself than to stop him. Oh no, not Sebastian, he never had to resist his urges the way I had to.

  That evening, by the time I left the house to go downtown, I was wound up tighter than I had been in my entire life. The whole day Sebastian had sexually tormented me, whether it was a glance, a smirk, or the way he would look at my breasts when we crossed paths.

  I would think I had found some peace, and start to calm down and relax, when he was there again, his smoldering eyes reigniting the embers of my lust. It didn't matter, the library, the kitchen, the entertainment room, the gym, he was there. I eventually got a bit of peace by going for a run at about two in the afternoon, pounding the pavement for a good hour, twice looping our neighborhood until the blood rushed in my ears and my thighs trembled with the effort.

  Coming up the driveway, hacking spit and phlegm onto the crushed gravel, Sebastian was waiting for me, oh so innocently, of course, catching some sun on the front lawn while wearing only his boxer brief swimsuit, his semi-hard cock outlining the thin fabric and driving my lust to distracting levels once again. I had to lock myself in my room in the end, pretending to do some homework for a mandatory science class that I cared little about.

  When Sarah buzzed me saying she was getting ready to go downtown, I threw on my things and called a cab. I'd already decided I was taking the train home, if I even went home that night.

  Looking in my closet, I picked out the sexiest outfit I could get away with if Mom saw me, a pleated micro-mini-skirt in red, along with a matching bra and panties. I chose a translucent blouse, supposedly black, but you couldn't tell unless you were looking at the seams. I pondered what shoes to wear for a minute, before deciding on a pair of five-inch black stiletto heels that might as well have had "fuck me pumps" written on the inside instead of Manolo.

  Letting my hair hang in their natural loose curls, I didn't have to do too much to my face. I learned early that for women with my skin, a touch was all it took, and it was all too easy to apply too much. A hint of black eyeliner, and glossy red lipstick that I knew would look black under the club lights, and I was set. In defense against the cold, I grabbed a thigh-length leather field jacket, which when I zipped it up, looked like I was naked underneath.

  When Sarah met me two blocks from the club, her eyes practically popped out of her head. She was no slouch herself, after all, Eden catered to only the beautiful people. Five-foot-eight, with a tight bubble butt from years in volleyball, Sarah had the sort of athletic frame that I knew a lot of men liked when they were in for vigorous action. She looked like she could ride you all night long, and from what she told me, she could. Together, I knew we'd be able to score easily in the club.

  The line to get into Eden was already stretching around the block when we arrived at ten minutes after eleven, but the door guy, a muscular local MMA fighter named Diego, let me in. He was sweet to me, but not in a sexual way. Diego was gay, and I’d actually steered a guy over to him one night. Since then, he let me in the velvet rope entrance without any qualms. I guess he had a good night.

  Eden was full, but not overly packed. It didn't help the image for it to be too full, because there had to be room for all the patrons to mingle and find out their taste for the night. The coat check girl, perhaps the least attractive girl in the club at only a seven, took our jackets with a smile, giving me and Sarah our tickets. I tucked mine in my bra since I had no other place to put it, while Sarah actually had a tiny little pocket on the inside of her skirt that she was able to put her own ticket. I envied her, and reminded myself to do that next time. I'd lost two coats through misplaced tickets.

  The music was perfect for my mood, a blend of house, trance and light hip hop that was already coursing through my body. I tried to play it cool, though, Sarah and I both sliding up to the bar and ordering drinks. I went with a shot of Gotham Knight, an Eden specialty that had Kahlua under a layer of dark blue colored vodka. Sarah went a little lighter, opting for a cranberry martini. We sat back, checking out the club, knowing it was just a matter of time.

  Time wasn't long at all, really. By the time the next song finished, two guys approached us, one of them kind of my type. I figured that if I downed a couple more Gotham Knights, I could let my imagination take over. He said his name was Patrick and he worked for a bank. Downing my second drink, I really didn't give a shit, but when he asked me to hit the dance floor, I was more than willing. I've found that the better a guy could move on the dance floor, the better he was in bed. Not that I'd found anyone who could really keep up with me in either situation.

  The next song was a bit old, I'm not sure who allowed the DJ to drop in a song by the Pussycat Dolls that was from my high school days, but it really didn't matter. The remix was bass heavy and worked in just the right way that I could get my body moving. I saw Sarah leading the other guy, a relatively nice and safe-looking guy named Christian past us. We flashed each other a smile before I really got down to seeing what Patrick was made of.

  Sadly, it wasn't much. For all of his broad chest and swagger, he sucked as a dancer, trying to cop a feel and grinding on me constantly. About the third time he grabbed my ass, I backed off, turning around to head back to the bar. When the asshole grabbed my arm and spun me around,
I felt a stab of fear in my chest. Patrick may not have been a great dancer, but the guy was strong, and easily double my bodyweight.

  "I'm not done with you yet, you stupid cunt," he yelled over the bass beat, twisting my forearm to twirl me around and pull my ass against his hard cock.

  Suddenly, Patrick released me. I stepped away and turned around, ready to bury a high heel in his balls when my knees went to jelly on me. The reason Patrick had released me was simple. Sebastian had him in an arm lock, and from what I could tell, he didn't like trying to scratch the back of his head with his fingers in that particular way. He struggled against Sebastian's strength, but Sebastian had him neutered easily.

  I was a little surprised when he let Patrick go, pushing him away from me, placing himself in between us. The crowd at Eden knew what was up, and cleared some space. I saw the bouncer look over at the ruckus, stopping when he noticed Sebastian. What the hell was going on? How did the staff at this club know my older stepbrother?

  "Nobody calls her a dumb cunt," Sebastian seethed, and I could hear something in his voice I’d never heard before. I didn't have time to figure it out, as Patrick rushed him, his right hand swinging in a wild overhand right.

  Now, I'm nowhere near the martial arts expert that Sebastian is, but even I'm not that fucking dumb. Patrick was bull-rushing a guy who had just made him look like a fool, and throwing the most telegraphed punch ever in doing so. Either he was stupid, which was my guess, or he was so enraged by being shown up, he ignored the most basic rules of combat, including keeping your balance.

  I knew there were at least a half-dozen different things Sebastian could have done to the guy, after all, I'd watched him work the heavy bag like a pro for years. Instead, he surprised me, slipping with the punch to catch Patrick in an under the arm grip, before twirling on his feet like a dancer and throwing him over his head. It was the most powerful, yet graceful move I’d ever seen a man make, and the result was stupendous. Patrick, all at least two hundred pounds of him, flew past my shoulder like a sack of laundry, crashing to the dance floor in a heap. He staggered to his knees, blood running from what looked like a cut above the eye before collapsing back down, groaning.

  I was just about to land a good kick in the bastard's ribs when I felt Sebastian place his hand on my shoulder. It wasn't squeezing, or even restraining, but the power of his touch stopped me, and I looked back over my shoulder. He shook his head slowly and jerked a thumb back towards the door.

  "We're leaving. Tell Sarah to have a good night, and to not go home with that loser Christian."

  I nodded dumbly. Gathering my things and my coat, I followed him back out into the night meekly, his eyes commanding me the entire time.

  Chapter 3

  I was surprised when Sebastian led me over to his car, Eden's parking lot was infamously small and there was almost never a spot open.

  "What you did tonight was dumb," he said, as soon as the doors were closed.

  "I thought you said nobody got to call me dumb," I replied, angry. And how the fuck did he know where I was going to be? I thought to myself.

  "What I said was that nobody gets to call you a stupid cunt. That doesn't mean you didn't do a stupid thing tonight."

  "Why the fuck should you care, anyway?" I asked, furious. "After the way you fucked with my head today, is it any surprise I needed to get out and get laid, you asshole?"

  Sebastian's eyes tightened, and his foot mashed the accelerator of his midnight blue Porsche, which shot through the streets. He didn't say a word until we got home, but when I got out, he held my hand in his, and not in the friendliest of ways.

  "Upstairs," he growled, leading me the entire way.

  In his grip, I felt all of my anger and resistance draining away. It was weird, honestly. I mean, when Patrick did it, I fought back and was not going to give in. With Sebastian though, I didn't even want to try.

  It wasn't that I felt totally safe. I’d seen the look on his face after I’d taunted him in the car. He was on the edge of his control, a face that I had only seen a few times in the time our parents had been married.

  The first time was when he was in the state quarterfinals in high school wrestling, to a guy who eventually went on to the Olympic trials. The guy hit Sebastian with an elbow to the face, and while the ref said it was unintentional, Sebastian didn't think so. As soon as the match restarted, he was a demon, tearing the other kid apart like tissue paper. The end of the match came not via pinfall, but by the other guy's coach throwing in the towel after Sebastian had thrown the guy so hard and so many times he was actually lying on the mat crying. I don't think Sebastian would have backed off either, except his coach came and grabbed him in a bear hug, lifting him clear off the mat and whirling him around. I always thought Coach Hazelton had a lot of guts even trying that one.

  But now, seeing a similar look on Sebastian's face, I wasn't sure if I was safe or not. When we reached our bedrooms, he took me down the hall to his room, opening it and closing the door behind him. I was acutely aware that both my Mom and Donald were at least five hundred feet away, in the master suite on the other side of the mansion and a floor down. The staff had all gone home for the night, and we might as well have been home alone.

  He locked the door behind him.

  "Sebastian, I'm sorry I called you an asshole," I began, before he pulled me to him. With my heels on, I was just tall enough for him to dip his head and capture my mouth in a searing kiss. I felt his teeth nip against my lips, and without hesitation I opened my mouth. His tongue invaded me, twirling around mine until I felt like my heart was going to explode in my chest.

  "You want to know why I was in that club tonight?" he growled, pushing me back towards his bed. "It's because I could see it in your eyes — from the time you saw me in the shower this morning — what you wanted. What you need. Tell me I'm wrong."

  "No," I groaned, admitting the truth. "You're not wrong."

  "Well, tonight you're going to get it," Sebastian replied. "And who knows? If you do it well enough, I might just give you a second shot. Not that anybody gets a third."

  "Why?" I asked, backing up against the bed. The edge hit me in the back of my knees, and I collapsed into the pillow top surface, my hair forming a halo around my head.

  "Because no woman has ever been good enough for that yet,” Sebastian taunted, ripping his shirt off. He’d worn a silk button-down shirt, and it parted in his hands like cheap cotton, the purring rip sending a tingle through me. "Because just like the girls last night, as fun as that was, they’ll never get another chance. Nobody's ever been good enough in bed to make me lose control, and when I find the one that can do that, I’ll know she’s the one.”

  Nodding, I reached for the string tie clasps of my blouse, loosening them until I could shrug the whole damn thing off. Sebastian grabbed my wrists, pinning them to the bed above my head when I reached for the front clasp of my bra, his legs pinning mine to the bed below him.

  "Before we do anything, though, I'm going to ask you some questions, and you're going to tell me the truth. I'll know if you're lying, and if you do, you won't like what happens."

  "What's that?" I asked, fearfully. In my mind I saw all sorts of outcomes.

  Sebastian smiled evilly, his eyes burning into my soul. "Simple. If you lie, I throw you out of my room, and you never get a chance to be with me again. I'll torture you incessantly. You think last night was loud? I'll bring every single girl I fuck home, and I'll make sure at least half of them are named Cassie. You'll get to hear us do things you wish you could do with me, but you'll know you'll never get the chance again. I'll put on epic sex shows for you to listen to and masturbate over. But you'll never get the chance again."

  "So in that regard, I'm giving you a safe word as well. All you have to do is tell me a lie."

  I pondered Sebastian's words for a moment, before making my decision. I’d wanted him for so long, and I knew I was his already. The only question left in my mind was if I was good en
ough in bed to be the first to cause him to lose control. "I understand."

  "How long have you wanted me?"

  "Years . . . I’m not sure exactly. It started in high school, for sure."

  He nodded his head, and while still clasping my wrists above my head, leaned down to suck at my neck. His lips were sensuous, I'd never felt so much pleasure from just a man's mouth on my throat before. It was like he knew every place where the nerves connected and knew the right amount of pressure needed to bring me maximum pleasure.

  I was losing myself in the sensation when it suddenly stopped, and Sebastian looked me in the eyes again.

  "And how long have you been masturbating when I've had other women in here?"

  I swallowed, gathering my wits for a moment. "Soon after. But it was different at first."

  Sebastian tilted his head, his normally arrogant smirk looking different to me now that I was in his bed.

  "How?"

  I knew I had let myself become trapped, and I still don't know why I did it. If I told him the truth, there'd be nothing left to hide from him. If I lied, it would be like cutting off a part of my own body. Fear coursed through me, and I had to swallow three times in order to overcome it.

  "At first, it was like listening to a generic porn movie, or something like that. Sure it was arousing, and it helped me get off. I even learned some things to try from the sounds. But later, well . . .”

  "Yes?" Sebastian commanded, his eyes twinkling. "Go on."

  "It became more personal. I found myself envying them, and imagining myself in their place. I wanted you."

  "Wanted?"

  "Want," I corrected myself. My heart was hammering in my chest, and my body was singing an aria of desire as I bared myself to him. "I want you, I want you to do to me all the things that you've done to all those other women. And I want something else."

  "Oh?"

  A smirk formed on my lips, and I wiggled underneath his powerful body. "I want to make you lose control.”

 

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