TWISTED DESIRES

Slender, manicured fingers effortlessly unbuckled his belt.  Like snakes they slid beneath the waistband of his silken boxers and headed unerringly for their favorite destination.  Andresj’ allowed his lover’s skillful touch for only a few moments before he lightly grasped her wrist.  “Not now, Sascha.”

The Countess Leonides resumed her actions.  She was unfazed by the iron lock Andresj’ had upon her wrist.  Unable to caress him in the long, slow strokes he enjoyed, Sascha simply began to milk his hardening member with quick, choppy movements.

“I said… not now.”  Andresj’ forcibly removed the older woman’s warm hand from around his hardness.  “I have other things on my mind.”

Forty-three year old Sascha Leonides flounced angrily away from her twenty-one year old lover.  ‘Your mind was not what I was interested in.”  She threw herself naked across the bed.

Andresj’ turned away from the balcony and smiled softly.  “I do believe that is the first genuine statement about our relationship that you have made, Sascha.”  The young man began to rearrange his clothing.  “Oh, I am not complaining, mind you.  This has been an enjoyable arrangement for us both.  You have provided me with experiences only a paid escort could provide.”

“Arrangement?”  The Countess jackknifed to a sitting position.  “That sounds like your father talking.”

“I thought that behaving more like my father would you please you, Sascha.  You have compared me to him often enough.”

The Countess bristled.  “And each time it has been your father who has come up short.”

Andresj’ conceded the point.  “That is true.  Still,” he mused, “Lately I have begun to wonder why you can not seem but to make my father a constant part of our relationship.”  He tilted his head to one side.  “Is it possible that I am not the Cassadine you desire a relationship with?”

“If I wanted your father, I would have him.  I don’t want Stefan!” Sascha added.

“If you insist.”

Andresj’s calm response threw the Countess off-balance.  “If I insist? That’s it?”  Her aristocratic features were flushed red.  “You question my feelings for you and then dismiss them?”

“Because I do not have the time or energy to argue motives with you, Sascha.  My family is in crisis, if you had not noticed.”

“What crisis?  All I see is that the little princess got her feelings hurt.  Which would not have happened if she’d been bred to this life.”  Sascha smiled coldly.  “She would have known not to put her heart on the line.  For any man.”

If she’d hoped to provoke a reaction out of her young lover, then the Countess Leonides was bound for disappointment.  “Perhaps Gia should be more like you,” Andresj’ mused.  “Her life would be far simpler if all she cared about was the current lover between her thighs.”

“You bastard!” 

Sascha flew at Andresj like an angry cat, claws bared.  The young man caught her easily.  “Careful, Sascha,” he buried his hands in her dark tresses and painfully pulled her head back.  “You do not want to discover just how unlike my father I can also be.”

~London, 6 days after the attack ~