Chapter 10
TEN
NICOLO RASTELLI
After dinner, while I clean up, Sebastian slips away to take a shower.
By the time the dishes are done and counters are wiped down, there’s still no sign of him. Even though he pinky swore not to leave me, part of me is terrified I’m going to go looking for him and not be able to find him. He’ll just be gone, disappeared, as if he really is a ghost that only appeared for a moment to prove ghosts exist at all.
My heart is in my throat and it’s a little hard to catch a decent breath as I slip down the hallway on silent feet and into his bedroom. A sigh of relief leaves me and tension bleeds out of my shoulders when I see the bathroom door cracked open, light on, and hear the sound of water. It’s not enough though. How do I know he’s really in there, and it’s not just a trick to buy himself time?
I creep forward, careful not to make a sound, and peek into the bathroom.
Whatever breath I gathered before leaves my body in a sudden and sharp exhale. I slam my hand over my mouth as my cock goes from soft to hard as a steel pipe in seconds. Try as I might, I can’t pull my eyes away from my big brother.
Sebastian is standing under the hot spray of the shower, head tipped forward, hair hanging around his face as he braces one hand on the tile wall. The other is wrapped around his cock and he’s stroking himself, in a slow and unhurried way that says he’s enjoying his own hand a whole hell of a lot.
As he teases the head of his thick cock with his thumb, he makes a soft, choked off sound that’s pure sinful need. The unexpected noise has my balls clenching and I cup my hard cock through my skinny jeans. It’s almost painful, the way the zipper digs into my shaft.
I should back away, leave him to his shower-wank in peace, but I can’t look away. Not with the way he’s touching himself, and the way the bathroom light is casting shadows on his body. I suspected he was toned, but the reality is so much better than anything I could’ve possibly imagined.
He’s fucking beautiful to look at, like a work of art made flesh and blood.
I pop the button on my pants with shaky fingers and shove my jeans, as well as my panties, down my thighs even though I know it’s wrong. He’s my brother. Even if we haven’t seen one another in ten years, that doesn’t change the fact he’s my brother. Not my foster brother, or my stepbrother, but my full-fledged, by the blood that binds us, brother.
But . . . he’ll never know, and just this once won’t hurt, right? I can get this sick need, this undeniable craving, out of my system and go back to being his little brother instead of the monster watching him touch himself.
Sebastian releases his cock and cups his balls. I bypass my leaking cock and curl my fingers around my sack, rolling my balls the same way he’s rolling his. The pleasure of my touch is hot and sharp, curling up my spine like a tornado of fire. If not for the hand over my mouth, he’d hear my whine of want over the sound of the water raining down on him. That’s the last thing I want to happen.
If he ever finds out about this, he’ll flee from me and my depravity so fucking fast all I’ll see is the dust he leaves in his wake. I wouldn’t blame him for it either. How could I when any normal person would have the same reaction.
I squeeze my eyes shut but open them just as quickly.
Sebastian can never know. He will never know. I’m sure as shit not going to tell him about this lapse of sanity. This is just the stress of learning he’s alive, and once I wank one out my body will calm the fuck down and remember Sebastian is my brother.
I’ll enjoy this one moment, where he curls his hand around his flushed cock and I do the same, before pretending like it never happened. He pumps his shaft, teasing the sensitive underside and I do the same, matching his rhythm, swallowing every moan as the pressure builds in my balls.
It takes every ounce of willpower I possess to swallow my moans, but there’s nothing I can do about how hard I’m breathing. Every breath I take sounds loud to my ears, like the winds at the top of the tallest of skyscrapers.
Sebastian can’t hear me, not as lost as he is in his own pleasure, and I take comfort in that as I do my best to memorize every line of his body, every soft sound of need he makes.
If I thought he’d be willing, I’d offer to let him use my mouth, even my hole. Just once, so we can move past this need that’s on the verge of swallowing me whole.
He’d have to show me—since I have no experience of my own—what to do, what he likes, but I’ll be a more-than-willing student. Wrong as it may be, Sebastian only has to tell me exactly what he wants me to do for me to do it without question.
“Fuck.” His voice is thick and raw as he squeezes the base of his cock before he starts stroking himself faster. I do too, then begin to thrust into my dry fist. The friction is just this side of painful but I can’t stop long enough to spit in my hand to slick the way. I need him to finish so I can finish with him.
“That’s it. Just like that,” he murmurs as his abdomen clenches. His fingers curl against the tile and I can tell he’s panting for breath just from the way his chest rises and falls. “You’re doing so good.”
I know he’s not talking to me, doesn’t even know I’m here, but it feels like he’s speaking to me nonetheless. I sink my teeth into my palm and twist my fingers around the head of my cock, gathering pre-cum and dragging it down my throbbing shaft.
“Son of a—” He grunts, hand flying over his cock fast enough I can hear the slap of skin on skin. “You were made for my cock, weren’t you?”
My balls pull up tight against my body. I’m not going to last.
He has to be close, doesn’t he?
“Almost. Almost,” he whispers to himself, fucking into his hand with mindless ease. I whine, the sound too loud, but he’s too lost to hear me. “Come for me, little brother.”
I suck in a sharp breath and choke even as my cock jerks and I spill into my hand, barely managing to catch my cum. The pleasure is so intense my knees shake and I have to uncover my mouth and brace on the wall beside the door.
At the same time, Sebastian grunts, his cock jumping as he spills into his hand. As he comes to thoughts of his little brother. Me.
In the aftermath—as aftershocks of pleasure make it hard to pull my pants up, tuck my cock into my panties, and stumble away from the door—I realize that maybe something is fundamentally broken in me. But whatever that something is, Sebastian is broken in the same way.