DEVIL: A Stepbrother Romance (13 page)

“Thank you,” I said. Would you like something to drink?

“No, I’m okay.”

I motioned towards the living room. “Go ahead and make yourself at home. I’m going to grab myself a bottle of water. I’ll be right back.”

Patricia trotted off towards the living room and I headed for the kitchen. I opened my subzero refrigerator and grabbed a bottle of Dasani. As I walked back towards the living room, I chugged on my drink and considered my game plan moving forward. I thought I’d turn on the TV and slowly cuddle in close to her to warm her up, but when I returned to the living room, my plan changed.

Patricia was gone.

I sat my Dasani down and walked down a hall until I found her standing stationary, admiring one of the hallway paintings that I had purchased, a mostly black and red abstract painting that one of the UCLA’s art students had been selling on campus. I thought it was good representation of my personality, strong but chaotic.

“It’s beautiful,” Patricia said as I pulled up behind her.

“Yeah, it is. I like it,” I replied. “But not as much as you.”

Patricia turned around with glistening eyes, and I threw all thoughts of warming her up further out the door. I pressed her against the wall, causing the painting to rattle, and pressed my lips against hers hard. At first she seemed shocked, inhaling a heavy breath through her nose as our mouths intermingled. Her hand stretched out, grasping for the wall, and it mistakenly hit my painting, causing it to fall to the ground and shatter the glass frame.

I didn’t care.

Patricia’s soft hands reached up and grabbed my face, and she purred as my tongue burrowed into her. She reciprocated, looping her tongue against mine, creating a whirl inside each other’s mouths.

I was so turned on that I couldn’t take it anymore. I needed to take her right there. I pulled away from her and grabbed her shoulders, forcing her to spin around with my hands, pressing her face-first against the wall.

My hands whipped around to her front and unlatched the button on her short shorts, then I squatted slightly and yanked her shorts down towards her ankles, the force causing her panties to slide off at the same time.

Finally, I could see her pale, white ass. It was dying to be spanked, and I did just that. A single hard smack on her left ass cheek caused her to jump and yelp.

“I’ve been wanting to fuck you all day,” I hissed in her ear, and I could hear her panting heavily, maybe even a little scared.

I spanked her again, this time on her right cheek, and she inched up on her tip toes as she gritted her teeth in agony.

My right hand kept her pressed against the wall, while my left hand unzipped my pants. My cock was throbbing when it was set free, and I reached my hand down on to her pussy to help guide myself to her entrance. I could feel how wet she was–no matter how much of a good girl she tried to pretend to be, she was waiting for the cock; I was sure of it. Perhaps she was anticipating it all day.

I slammed my cock into her from behind, causing her to scream and shutter against the wall. For a moment, I stayed like that, fully submerged inside, feeling her warmth and her pussy stretching to accommodate its most recent guest. She was tight, and I could smell the slightest bit of sex that was driving me further into a sexual rage.

Again I slammed into her, and again, and then I began my deliberate strokes. I reached my hand around to her face and forced it to turn around just enough that I could suck on her lips while I fucked her. “Your pussy feels so good,” I murmured.

Her face was red and she was breathing heavily, but she was so quiet.

“Does that feel good?” I asked.

She scratched her hands against the wall but she didn’t reply.

I pulled away from her lips and pounded harder into her, slamming against her ass, sending her a message, telling her that she better talk to me or else. “Is that how you like it?” I asked.

Still silent.

I grabbed her tightly by the hips and crashed against her, almost as hard as I could, but also paying mind not to harm her delicate body.

Her fingers scratched against the wall again, and she lifted herself onto her tiptoes, feeling almost as if she was trying to run away. Her legs tensed, and I could feel the pressure in her pussy shifting. “You going to come, baby?”

She bobbed her head slowly but didn’t say a word, and then her body began to writhe and heave below me. Her legs trembled as she came and eventually went completely limp to the point that the only thing supporting her was my hands holding her by the waist.

I looked down to the sight of her soft ass splashing against my cock, and I could see the little whisks of tiny red hairs poking out from her pussy. So cute. So helpless. I could feel my balls tightening and I hammered into her a few final forceful times before I pulled out and spewed jets of white magic all over her back and crack.

I breathed heavily, and Patricia fell to the ground, narrowly avoiding the broken glass. She lay there staring with wide-eyes at the ceiling, panting, her chest heaving heavily. I surveyed the destruction–scratches on the wall, glass everywhere, a ruined painting and a girl fresh out of high school who looked like she may never walk again.

They call me The Wrecker after all.

“Are you okay?” I asked to Patricia.

She shook her head yes, but her face remained blank and she didn’t move.

“Do you want to shower?”

She shook her head no, but she still didn’t move a muscle.

I pulled up my pants and headed towards the nearest bathroom to grab a towel. When I returned to the hall, I reached out my hand and helped Patricia to her feet. “Be careful not to step on any glass.”

When she stood up, I wiped my cum off of her and she seemed like she was starting to regain her senses a little bit.

“Can I use your restroom?” she asked.

“Yeah, of course.”

I lead her down the hall to the bathroom, and she gave me a slight smile before she closed the door.

While she was in the bathroom, I grabbed a broom out of a nearby closet and started sweeping up the glass. What had I done? I felt incredibly relieved to have fucked Patricia, but I felt incredibly bad as well. She was a great girl–certainly not like the girls that I picked up at clubs, and the truth was that I really liked her. I could see myself growing into having a genuine relationship with someone like her someday.

I took the scraps of broken glass and my tattered painting to a trash can near the living room, and when I sat them down Patricia returned from the bathroom.

“Hi,” she said shyly and slid a piece of hair behind her ear. Her face was blushing, and she was looking off to the side.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing… I just…” She paused and finally faced me. “Does this me that we’re together now?”

My heart sank. She looked so small and vulnerable standing there in front of me, asking such a naïve question, and I wanted to just step closer and wrap my arms around her.

Destroy her,
a voice hissed.

It was him. It had been so long since I had heard his voice, so long since I met anyone of interest.

“Don’t make me do this,” I thought to myself, knowing that he’d be able to hear me.

Come on Wrecker. Wreck her heart just like you wrecked her pussy. Do it, you bastard!

“I don’t want to do it. Don’t make me hurt her.”

You don’t have a choice. We had a deal.

I decided to ignore him. Maybe I was hallucinating. Maybe I was going crazy. Maybe I was hearing voices just because I had hit my head during the accident. Besides, what could he really do to me?

“Come on, babe. Let’s go talk about things in my garden.” I gave her a warm smile and reached out to grab her hand.

The moment I touched her was the same moment a large shatter of glass could be heard through from the back of my house. It was so loud that both of us ducked.

“What the fuck?” I snarled and stormed back in the direction of the sound. Patricia followed me nervously. Room by room, I pushed opened doors, looking for the source of the noise, until I arrived at one of the guest bedrooms on the lower floor.

Inside of the room, the double-pane window has been busted opened, and laying on the floor was a large rock, black and steaming with heat. It was so hot that the wood floors surrounding it had been slightly charred.

“Holy shit!” I shrieked.

“What is that?” Patricia asked. “Why is it smoking?”

“I don’t know. Maybe some kids around the neighborhood are vandalizing things.” I looked out through the hole in the window, and the garden in the back yard looked untouched. How I wished it were vandals, but I knew it was
him
. It must have been.

“How could someone throw that in the window? It would burn their hands.”

“I don’t know, but…”

“Should you call the police? Maybe someone is trying to break in? Either way, I think I should go home.”

“Yeah, ok,” I replied. “Let’s go to the car.”

I took a deep breath and we headed for the Ferrari.

Do it, Mitch. My patience is waning.

I continued to ignore the voice, hopped in the car with Patricia, and started down the driveway into the street. A broken window and a ruined floor was fixable–I could live with it.

Patricia grabbed my free hand while I drove towards her home. “Thanks for everything today. I had a lot of fun. Sorry about your window... and your painting.” She shifted uncomfortably in her seat. “I don’t usually have sex with someone on the first day. I hope you don’t think I’m a slut.”

Call her a slut Mitch.

“No, of course I don’t think you’re a slut. And I had a great time too.”

You’re disappointing me Mitch.

I approached an intersection, but didn’t stop because the light was green. As I entered the 4-way crossing, a huge tractor trailer appeared out nowhere, speeding perpendicular to our direction and causing me to slam on my breaks in an effort avoid an accident. My tires squealed loudly and Patricia screamed while bracing herself for a crash.

A blur of of serrated steel whizzed by, and the force of the large vehicle rattled my car. An inch closer and the Ferrari would have been crushed, along with Patricia and I.

We sat motionless in middle of the juncture for a few moments while Patricia caught her breath, and I regained my composure. My heart was pounding, and I had a flashback of the moment that I had been hit by a drunk driver. I was entirely too close to being on my deathbed again.

We had a deal,
the voice hissed again.

Cars trying to enter the intersection started honking, and I once again put my foot on the gas and started back towards Patricia’s home. After that, I knew I had to comply. It was out of my hands.

“Are you okay?” I asked her.

“Yeah, I’m okay,” she shrugged and fixed her jostled shirt. “That was so close. The guy must have ran the light.”

She grabbed my hand again, but after a few seconds I pulled it away and started driving with both hands. There were no more incidents on the way to her house, and after 5 more minutes of driving, I was easing in front of her driveway.

I held my foot on the brake and gave Patricia a week smile. “It was nice meeting you.”

“It was nice meeting you too Mitch.” She reached out and put her hand on my shoulder. “When will I see you again?”

I took a deep breath, preparing myself to drop the bomb. “I don’t think there’s going to be a next time.”

Yes…

“What do you mean? Why not?” Her face was wrinkled with concern.

“I don’t think we’re good for each other, and I’m not looking for a relationship,” I said sternly, trying my best to hide my real emotions.

“Not good for each other? I thought we had a good day? Did I do something wrong? Was the sex bad? I’m sorry that I was nervous…”

I sighed. “Just get out of the car and go inside, Patricia. I’m sorry.” I clicked the unlock on the center console and the doors made a deep clicking sound. She could have unlocked it herself, but the sound itself was an indicator that it was time for her to leave.

Patricia’s eye’s began to gloss over with tears. She reached for the handle on her side and pushed the car door open before turning and looking at me again. “I don’t understand… Why everything? Was I just a toy for you?”

“Yeah, it was just about sex,” I said it coldly, and I could feel my heart aching to tell her the truth, to tell her that I really liked her and wanted to see her again.

She blinked, and the tears that had formed in her eyes began streaming down her face. “I really liked you, Mitch–”

“Just go damnit!” I yelled and slammed my palm on the steering wheel.

Patricia sniffled, turned, and exited the car. Once she closed the door, I pressed my foot into the gas and squealed away, leaving her standing on her driveway teary-eyed.

Good job. You really did a number on that one.

“Fuck you!” I screamed. I clenched my teeth, and rage overcame me. Worst of all, I could already feel the tension building up inside of me again, energy and lust pooling with a desire to destroy. “Why are you doing this to me!?”

The voice laughed manically.

W
hen I arrived home
, I headed straight for the kitchen and poured myself a tall glass of Jack Daniel’s and ice. It burned as it went down, but it calmed me and helped me get my mind off of the shitty person that I had become. I had so material things but so little to offer. Perhaps I should have just let myself die that day?

I walked through my house and into the guestroom with the broken window. I carefully taped a trash bag over the hole as temporary protection from the elements, and then I moved to the black rock. I lifted it up, and looked at the ruined floorboards. It was going to be an expensive fix, but it wasn’t like I didn’t have enough money to cover it. The rock was cool to the touch and perfectly smooth, smelled like charcoal and gas.

I tossed the rock in the trash and sent a text to my assistant:

I navigated to my office and took another swig of Jack Daniel’s while I powered on my laptop. Sending a text to my assistant compelled me to check my Twitter, and I could see that she was doing a good job. I was at 6 million followers and growing, and all I could see were tweets from fans saying that I was going to wreck Miami in the upcoming game.

Next, I checked my stocks which again had done well. The overall market was crashing, so my short strategy was giving me major gains. I can’t explain how I knew to short the market. It was just a sensation I had that told me that the market was going down. I’m sure the luck was just something that had been infused in me with all the other traits I had picked up since the accident.

I reclined in my chair and took another swig of my whiskey. Was it even fair? For every dollar that I was gaining in stocks, someone else was losing money. My financial life seemed oh-too parallel to my love life. I titled my head back and let out a big sigh when I noticed the shiny, black half-circle in the corner of my office.

The security camera.

My house was outfitted with a high-tech security system and there were motion-detecting cameras in every room. Since I spent so much time on the road, I wanted to make sure that if anything happened while I was gone, it was caught on tape. The data was uploaded to the cloud, only accessible by me, and I could go back up to 7 days at a time. Whatever happened in the room with broken glass would have been recorded for sure.

I sat up in my chair, finished of my whisky, and slammed the cup down before I started typing frantically, routing my computer to my security video vault. I clicked an access button, typed in my security code, and a large video filled my screen, divvied up into 24 separate sections, one for each camera in my house. I could see myself in my office camera, and the rest of the house was empty.

I pressed a button that rewound the video at super-speed, 30 minutes to 24 hours at a time depending on the option you selected, and soon I had rewound a bit too far and could see myself in one of the sections fucking Patricia, her hands pressed up against the wall. My eyes lingered a moment, and then I forwarded the video incrementally until Patricia and had just emerged from the bathroom.

I clicked the section of the video that showed the bedroom that now had a broken window, and that camera zoomed to full screen. I waited patiently for the moment that the rock entered the glass, but after only a few seconds, the video disappeared and the there was nothing but static on the screen.

“What the fuck?” I muttered. A few seconds later the video re-appeared and there was a hole in the window and a rock on the floor. I rewound and fast forwarded the video again and again, but every time it got to that exact moment, I only got fuzz. The video of the rock actually entering the house had gone missing. I guess I should’ve known.

I let out a deep sigh and shook my head from side to side, then I rewound the video until I was back at my encounter with Patricia. From a top down view, she looked so helpless pressed up against the wall, and I looked like a savage pounding the fuck out of her from behind the way that I did. Watching the video turned me on all over again, but it also made me feel ill. She was probably sitting at home sulking at how I let her go.

When I watched myself walk to the bathroom to get a towel, I clicked to rewind again, but accidently pressed the option to rewind the video by 12 hours, and suddenly it was night. I almost clicked away, but then I saw myself walking around the master bedroom in boxers, pulling my comforter down getting ready slide into bed. But in another sector of the video I saw something else.

Annie.

She was in one of the upstairs bedrooms writhing in the bed, her legs arched apart, her shirt pulled up, squeezing on her big, ample breasts.

My heart pounded, and my cock jumped. My entire being told me to click away, to not look at my sister’s private moment, but I couldn’t pry my eyes from the monitor. I clicked the section that housed Annie, zoomed it full screen, and reversed the video incrementally ‘til the beginning of event.

I watched as Annie kicked the comforter off of herself and extended her legs apart. She played with her nipples and rubbed her clit, then finger-banged herself until her breathing was heavy and her body trembled against the bed. I had never seen Annie’s tits on display like that–not since we were little kids and bathed together–not since she had grown up and grown out. They were beautiful, soft, natural, and my mouth watered with desire.

I instinctively grabbed my cock, which was now pulsating in my pants, and I wanted so desperately to relieve myself, so desperately to jerk off while I watched my sister play with her pussy. But how evil would that have made me? Jerking off to my sister? I couldn’t believe I was even thinking of such a thing.

Again, I watched the video, and this time I noticed her mumble something just as she made herself come. I clicked a button to initiate sound and rewound it again. There was mumbling, but it was so low that I couldn’t make it out. I increased the volume of the video and then increased the volume of my speakers to the maximum level and rewound again.

I heard her whimper, I heard her gasp for air, I heard the soft splash of her juices as her fingers slid in and out of her hole, and I then I heard her moan.

“Mitch.”

There was no mistaking it.

My sister said my name while she fucked herself.