Bastian: A Secret Baby Romance (4 page)

S
ebastian's classes
tended to run later than mine. I wasn't sure if that was due to his personal choice or if it was just him being pre-law, but he didn't come back home until almost seven thirty that night. By then, I had been home for a few hours, doing a quick workout and setting up my homework for the night.

Dinner was a tradition in our household. We almost always ate together, unless Donald was out of the city on business. Since everyone was home on time that night, Sebastian was just in time to throw his bags down in one of the spare chairs before sitting down to chicken thighs, summer squash, kale salad and coconut milk smoothies. I’d felt the first pregnancy urges while driving home that day, stopping off for a cheeseburger from a fast food joint, but was still famished. I knew that both mom and Sebastian were giving me strange looks throughout dinner as I polished off second helpings of everything.

Excusing myself, I went back to my bedroom to start getting ready for the next day's classes. It wasn't too difficult that night, mainly about twenty-five pages of reading on Spartan society for my history class, and doing some listening and vocabulary practice for my foreign language requirement. I’d chosen French, even though I know mom wanted me to pick Russian. I wanted something that I found interesting. Since much of international politics is conducted in either French or English, I thought the ability to pick up the basics of conversation would be helpful. Besides, except for Italian, nobody does romance better than the French.

I was working my way through some of the original French version of The Phantom of the Opera when I heard a knock on the door between my room and the bathroom I shared with Sebastian. I set my book down, plugging through gamely merely because I wanted the French. I thought the original novel was nowhere near as good as either the film or stage adaptations. Opening the door, I was caught off guard as Sebastian pulled me into the bathroom with him.

"You were certainly hungry tonight," he joked, pulling me towards the shower stall. "Were you trying to build up your energy for tonight?"

"No," I said, lust running through me as he kissed my neck. "I was just . . . hungry."

"I've been hungry too," Sebastian replied, pulling my t-shirt up over my head and unsnapping my bra. My breasts tumbled into the warm air, only to have him devour my right nipple with his sensuous lips. I could feel my knees weaken, and I still had my damn workout shorts on. "I've been hungry for you.”

"I've wanted you since breakfast," I said, struggling to maintain some form of composure. I could tell by his ardor he needed a quickie — something to settle him down before he worked on his own homework. Reaching for the button on his jeans, I opened him up quickly and slid the denim down his muscular hips. "Ever since you called me Little One in front of mom and Donald."

"You liked that, did you?" Sebastian replied, pulling my own shorts off. Naked, he dragged me into the shower, turning on the hot water as soon as the glass door was closed. The warm spray mixed with the warmth of Sebastian's body had me quickly quivering. Lifting my leg, I could feel his massive cock already pressing against me, wanting entrance. Unable to deny my him anything, I wrapped both my legs around him, trying to get high enough to allow him to fully enter me. Sebastian helped, lifting me up in his muscular arms to press me against the back tile wall, his lips releasing my nipple to crush against my mouth. Our tongues dueled, winding and twisting against each other hotly. I was desperate to feel him inside me. "My pace," Sebastian reminded me, the evident chuckle in his voice from reading my mind. "Remember, always my pace, and you'll be taken care of."

“Yes, I remember,” I replied, my words curling into a moan as Sebastian rewarded me by lowering my body onto his cock. I felt more stretched than normal — his massive ten-inch cock normally took some time to prepare for. But we’d been lovers for long enough that it wasn’t painful at all anymore, especially as aroused as I was.

I give him a lot of credit, for someone as aroused and as needful as he was that night, he still took his time. After he was all the way inside me, he paused, looking me in the eye until I gave him a slight nod telling him I was ready. Holding me steady against the tile, he began thrusting, his long full strokes sent chills from my toes all the way to my eyes. The sound of the shower drowned out a lot of the sounds I was making — so I let myself go — nobody could hear me. Instead, I focused on what I always did whenever we had sex, making my body as pleasurable to him as he was to me.

One of the little secrets I had started since Sebastian and I first had sex was exercising, of all things, my vaginal muscles. A little Internet research and some practice, and I could wrap myself around his cock better than ever. It wasn't all for his benefit either, I found out. I was more turned on than ever as I squeezed, feeling every vein and ridge of his cock as it slid in and out of me.

His thrusts became faster and harder, my breasts shaking with every impact of his body against mine. I couldn't believe how helpless, and how powerfully turned on I felt, suspended against the warm tile wall as Sebastian fucked me. He changed up his strokes, sometimes going long and deep and sometimes short little thrusts that wiggled inside me. Capturing my lips in a kiss again, he pulled me off the wall and laid me gently on the floor of the shower stall before starting to slam me again, my cries tearing between our lips as shockwaves rippled through my body.

"I'm going to come," I gasped, my eyes searching his face for permission. "I can't hold back any longer."

"Ten more seconds," Sebastian said, his eyes squeezing shut as he pushed in and out with everything he had. I counted in my head, and at seven, I felt his cock swell inside me. At nine, Sebastian grunted and pulled out, shooting his load as the water rained down around us.

The shower stall was a bit tight for us to stretch out, so he knelt over me for a few moments while he composed himself. When we could both stand, he helped me to my feet, stroking my face tenderly as he helped me wash my body. His hands felt wonderful slipping over my skin, and I could feel fresh waves of heat through my body. "Mmmmm, if you keep doing that, we're going to drain the hot water heater. And I think you have things you need to get done tonight."

Sebastian sighed, kissing me on the back of my neck. "You're right. I do have a speech I have to give tomorrow for one of my classes."

Fuck the water heater, I needed him again. "Tell me. I'm more than just your fuck toy, you know."

"I know, beautiful Cassie," he murmured, the combination of my name with calling me beautiful causing me to gasp. He had never, even in all of our sexual escapades, called me beautiful Cassie before.

"What's your speech about?"

"Privacy laws, and how much they apply to public figures," Sebastian said, slipping two fingers inside me and pumping them in and out. My body was on fire, but I could tell in his voice he was doing it not so much to tease me or make love to me, but because it was helping him think, kind of like an erotic meditation. "You and I are public figures, you know."

"Comes with the territory of Donald's money," I sighed, clenching again around his fingers. How he could have me ready to come again so quickly was an amazing mystery to me. "What position do you have to take?"

"That public figures have no right to privacy," he said, his lips brushing against my neck again. Whether he was meditating or not, I could feel his cock stiffening against my ass again, and I moaned, pushing back against him. "A position I have a very hard time agreeing with."

"What, you don't want the world to know your stepsister is in love with you?" I teased, pausing when I felt his fingers stop. "What is it?"

"You just said you're in love with me," Sebastian said, his voice heavy with emotion.

"Because I am," I immediately replied. I never lied to him, not since that first night when the consequence would be banning from his bedroom forever. While I'm sure he never meant for the rule to continue, he had never lifted it either, and I would obey him. "Is that so bad?"

"Not bad, but complicated," Sebastian said, his fingers starting their thrusting again. "Are you sure you know what you're saying?"

"Yes, Sebastian. I can only pray you feel the same way for me." It felt like the perfect time to bring up my pregnancy, but he chose that moment to bend me over, replacing his fingers with his cock, and all conscious thought was driven from my mind as he filled me again.

"I do love you, Cassie. You above all others."

The only thread of worry in my mind was from the last two words he said.
All others
. Were there still others in his life?

T
he problem
of when and how to tell Sebastian about my pregnancy stayed on my mind for the next few days. Because of our schedules, he and I barely got a chance to see each other except at meal times, even missing breakfast twice. It felt weird and lonely, as I wanted him there to talk to. I was planning to do something about it when Donald surprised us all at dinner.

"I just received word that a good friend of mine has decided to run for the State House," he said, "and he asked if I would be willing to give him an endorsement. Well, of course I am, I told him. Better yet, I've decided that this Saturday night, we're going to be hosting a campaign kickoff party here at the mansion. With the people we can get at this party, he won't be needing campaign funds for a long time. Also Cassie, I thought it would be a good chance for you to meet him. He's always looking for enthusiastic young people who want to get their feet wet in the political arena. You might consider volunteering for his campaign."

"Wow . . . uh thanks, Donald," I said, looking over at Sebastian, who was chewing his dinner silently. "I'd enjoy the chance to see if his issues and mine line up."

Donald laughed, my mom following along. "Honey, one of the things I've learned is that with most politicians, it's not a matter of their own personal views, but the views of the power brokers in their party. Now my friend Jim, he's a great guy, and I do think he's got a good chance at winning. But the thing is, as a first-term member of the State House, Jim's not going to be able to do anything without the blessings of Senator Giffords from upstate, or Senator Rollins from the Central Valley. Those two old men control the party, and through that, the State House. Think of working for Jim as an investment. "

"I see. Well, either way, I'd like to talk with him."

"That's fine. Amanda honey, would you pass me the pork roast? I love the glaze tonight. Is that your own recipe?"

With party preparations, the entire house was thrown into a semi-controlled chaos, and Sebastian and I didn't even have a chance to talk that night. Instead, I ended up doing my homework in the study, an ornate room filled with rich leather and books that were almost as good as my room for studying, except that I tended to fall asleep in the deep club chairs too often. By the time I got back up to my room, Sebastian was asleep, snoring softly in his pajamas. I stripped down and kissed him softly on the temple, setting my alarm to make sure I got up in time, before snuggling in next to him, sighing in pleasure as his arm lifted to wrap around my stomach.

That Saturday morning, the hired event people descended upon the mansion en masse, bringing with them a fleet of caterers, waiters, decorators and such. In charge of it all was a wiry woman with a whippet face that I learned was named Tammy. She had been doing these sorts of events since the Clinton days, Bill, not Hillary, and ran the whole thing with a dictatorial control that bordered on scary. After getting the evil eye from her about three times for touching things that she apparently didn't want to be touched, I retreated back to my room, changing into my workout clothes and getting a quick thirty minutes in on the rowing machine while the staff set things up.

Afterward, I finished up a bit of homework for my classes for the next week before changing into my party dress. While the announcement itself was timed to make the live six o'clock news, the main bulk of the event would happen after, hobnobbing and partying in order to get donors to open up their wallets for Jim Mason, candidate for the State House.

Smoothing my hands over my black cocktail dress, I liked what I saw in the mirror. Whether it was to please Sebastian or the hormones from being pregnant or what, my body was in perhaps the best shape of its life, while still having the soft curves of my breasts and hips that I knew Sebastian enjoyed. With my long black hair styled behind it, I was a knockout, and couldn't wait to show off.

Making my way downstairs, I saw mom waiting for me in the living room. She smiled as soon as she saw me, wrapping her arms around me to give me a big hug.

"Honey, you look beautiful," she said, kissing me on the cheek. "You're going to make quite the impression on the men in attendance tonight."

"I hope so," I said with a smile, thinking that I only wanted to impress one particular man. "Are Sebastian and Donald already downstairs? I kind of got caught up in my homework, and didn't realize how late it had gotten."

"I know Donald is, but I don't know about Sebastian," she replied. "I know Jim wanted Donald there to be in the group behind him in his announcements, though. They're just getting ready now."

Mom and I made our way to the front of the house, where the grand foyer had been converted into the spot for Jim's press conference and announcement. I saw Donald standing next to a guy that kind of looked like Gary Oldman, who I assumed was Jim Mason. Jim was looking over his notes with a smile, laughing at something Donald told him in his ear. While Jim might be the one running for the State House, Donald definitely looked more comfortable in this sort of environment.

Arranged around the foot of the stairs were a few cameramen while a lot of the reporters kept themselves to the back. This event wasn't for asking questions, although certainly a few would try after the prepared speech was out of the way. I looked around, trying to find Sebastian in the crowd of perhaps two hundred people when I felt my heart get ripped in two.

Sebastian was off to the side of the assembly, looking as handsome as ever in his fitted tuxedo. What hurt though were the two girls who were talking to him. One was a knockout Asian girl, with that caramel color to her skin, almond shaped eyes and tight body that screamed model or at least high-society, while the other was a redhead that already looked hot and bothered by Sebastian's presence. The three of them were chatting, with both of the girls putting their hands on Sebastian's arms and chest, obviously flirting with him.

Thoughts rushed through my mind as I watched him talk to the girls. The first was outrage, wanting to go charging down there and kick both of their asses. The second thought though crushed me and brought tears to my eyes. What if all of Sebastian's words, all his kind kisses and little whispers after he was done fucking me were nothing more than pillow talk to him? What if I was just another notch on his belt, to be replaced with a new one after it got boring fucking me? I was so lost in thought that I didn't even hear when Jim Mason's speech wrapped up, and my mom had to jostle my elbow to remind me to clap.

After the speech, I let my mask fall over my face. Anyone who's lived in high society knows the mask I'm talking about, it's the one that smiles and says all the right things on the outside while on the inside, a totally different dialogue is going on. We can smile and exchange air kisses with women we hate or do nothing while people we actually like are eviscerated by the press or by more influential peers in public. While I'm nowhere near as adept in my mask as some of the people in our social circle, mine has a lot of practice.

Circulating around the party, I played my role of charming
daughter
to Donald Witherspoon, smiling and making the right comments at the right time. I even exchanged pleasantries with Jim Mason, who I agreed to come by his campaign headquarters and discuss the possibility of me working as his 'youth coordinator.'

Afterward, the party really started, with alcohol and music in the garden around the pool. I consciously avoided any of the alcohol, using the classic dodge of drinking dry ginger ale and passing it off as champagne. I was downing my third flute of the stuff when Harvey Mason, Jim's son who is just about my age, came up with a smile on his face. "Hey, you're Cassie, right?"

"Yes I am," I said, returning the smile. "I saw you standing on the other side of your father at the speech. Quite a nice one, if I can say."

"Of course you can. Dad will be quite happy about that, although I have to take a bit of credit for it. I did some of the rewriting of Dad's original ideas. He's got a good voice, just a tendency to go on a bit too long, and not use the right sort of words that get people buzzing."

"So you're in politics then?" I asked him, keeping my smile fixed. I didn't really like the guy, but he was Jim Mason's son, and it certainly wouldn't be appropriate to make the man angry so soon after meeting him, especially with his relationship with Donald taken into consideration.

"No, actually I work for a tech startup, but a lot of what I do is search engine optimization, which has a lot in common. Keywords, buzzwords, it's kind of all the same. Say, I know this is a bit forward, but would you care to dance with me?"

I didn't agree to dance with Harvey because I wanted to get Sebastian jealous. For all I knew, he was already upstairs giving those two women orgasmic dreams they would pray to never wake up from. I agreed to dance with him because of who he was, plain and simple. It was by pure bad luck that the song changed from a livelier dance number to a slow dance. Harvey pulled me against him as we moved, and while I will admit he was a decent dancer, I was in no way interested in the guy.

My disinterest turned into dislike when I felt his hands roam down and over my ass. "Hey, north of the Mason-Dixon line," I joked, lifting his right hand up to the small of my back. "You should behave at your father's campaign kickoff."

His hand almost immediately starting to drift down again. This time, I stopped him cold, stepping back from him and giving him a light shove.

"Harvey, don't do something stupid and make a scene at your father's campaign kickoff. The news crews are still around."

Harvey's grin worried me — he wasn't getting the point. He was used to girls resisting him and either him getting his way via some sort of imagined charm, or perhaps his father's influence, I didn't know. Then again, it could’ve just been that he’d had too many drinks. Either way, I wasn't going to stick around and find out. Walking away, I made sure to keep myself near the cameras and those who might stand in the way of him getting inappropriate again. Sadly, as the party wrapped up, the crowd thinned, and the news crews left to make their eleven o'clock deadlines. I hadn't seen Sebastian since the beginning of the party, and most of me was afraid to. I was sure if I went back to my room, I'd be subjected to listening as he had one of his epic sexual encounters next door to me.

I was just downing my last glass of ginger ale, and wondering how long I could hold it before I had to go to the toilet when I felt someone come up behind me and wrap their arms around my waist. I could tell as soon as I felt his hands it wasn't Sebastian, and I responded in the most instinctive manner I could, a hard elbow that caught whoever it was just below the belt buckle, right above his balls.

"Ouch, bitch!" I heard behind me, confirming what I suspected. Harvey had tried to cop a feel.

Turning, I could see Harvey rubbing the spot, a sick grin on his face. I made a decision at that point. Jim Mason might be a good guy, but his son was an asshole, and a dangerous one at that. I was sure I wasn't going to join the Mason campaign, I couldn't stand the idea of being close to him for the next six months.

"Fuck off, Harvey."

The few party goers nearby were either too drunk or too intimidated by Harvey's position to step in. Suddenly I felt a presence behind me, one that I could take comfort in. Sebastian stood next to me, his arms crossed over his massive chest looking across at Harvey.

"Is everything okay, Little One?" he asked me. This seemed to be a regular occurrence — Sebastian sticking up for me after getting harassed by assholes who couldn’t accept the word
no
.

I was just about to reply when Harvey stuck his foot deep into his own mouth by answering for me. "Your little sister was just engaging in a little foreplay with me, Seabass," Harvey replied, invoking perhaps the most juvenile and idiotic nickname for Sebastian I’d ever heard. "She just likes to play hard to get."

Sebastian nodded and looked over at me. "You want to play with him, Little One?"

"Not really," I replied, glaring at him.

Sebastian nodded, his commanding mask firmly on his face. I could see a glint in my his eyes, and he leaned in, whispering in my ear. "Last time I saved you. You get yourself out of this one. But I have your back if you need it."

Putting a false, sexy smile on my face, I walked over to Harvey. "Okay Harvey, you want to play? Let's play."

I leaned in, standing up on my tiptoes as Harvey grinned, leaning down toward me. When his lips were just a few inches from my own, my knee rocketed up, catching him cleanly in the big muscle of his right leg. It wasn't a clean shot in the balls, but it hurt like hell, I was sure of it.

Grabbing at his thigh, Harvey for the first time seemed more perplexed than turned on. Stepping in close, I pushed him back, sending him stumbling over a chair behind him and crashing into the pool. I was somewhat aware of flashbulbs going off but didn't care as Harvey got himself over to the edge of the pool, dragging himself out before standing up, dripping everywhere on the deck. I could see my mother, Donald and Jim Mason approaching, concern written on my mom's face, outrage on Jim’s.

"What the hell is going on here?"

"You need to keep your son away from any of your female campaign staff, Jim," Sebastian replied, taking me by the shoulders before I could say anything. "I saw your son here cop a feel on Cassie, and she responded by pushing him into the pool. All even, in my opinion."

Jim looked over at his son, his face clouding in anger. "We'll talk later. Donald, Amanda, I apologize for my son's misbehavior. And Cassie, I owe you an apology. I'd still like to talk with you about my campaign, but I understand if you want to turn down my offer."