Before Sinclair could mount him, Dom flipped himself around and thrust his fingers between Sinclair’s thighs, under his balls and against his taint, forcing them right against his hole.
“Not so easy, Sinclair,” Dom growled. He tapped there, pushing Sinclair’s cheeks apart. Then he ground his fingers against Sinclair’s entrance, hard enough to remind Sinclair of what he really wanted.
Sinclair narrowed his eyes. His hole fluttered, though, reacting to Dom’s touch. And his resistance wavered.
Dom snatched the chance to tackle Sinclair onto his back. Sinclair swore and shoved at him; Dom knocked Sinclair’s legs apart, holding them open with his own body.
“That was cheating,” Sinclair growled, but there was no mistaking the musk that rolled off his skin. Especially when Dom caught his knees and shoved them open, so Sinclair lay spread for him—like a feast.
Dom licked his lips, his mouth bone-dry. He dug his fingers into Sinclair’s shirt and ripped it open, exposing his scarred abs and pecs. All lovely.
“Say it,” Dom murmured. “‘Donut’, or ‘please’.”
“Not gonna.” Sinclair glowered.
That expression looked so sweet on him. Especially when Dom grasped either side of his shorts and ripped it clean in half, letting it hang open around his cock and balls, and his tight ass. Dom groaned. Sinclair reared up to gain control. Dom had to throw himself bodily onto Sinclair to hold him down.
Sinclair’s breath puffed onto his face; his warmth soaked into Dom’s skin. “You’re such a bastard.”
“Yeah?” Dom smiled, rubbing his fingertips between Sinclair’s asscheeks—enough for Sinclair to know he was there, but not close enough to touch his hole. “I could be even more of one.”
He pressed light kisses down Sinclair’s chest. Uncharacteristic of him, he knew. But he wanted to give Sinclair something soft, too. At Sinclair’s nipples, Dom sucked hard. Sinclair gritted his teeth, his chest heaving.
Then he trailed kisses down the side of Sinclair’s abs, ignoring the big scar for now.
Yeah, Sinclair had a uterus. There was that. But more important was the baby that Dom had put in him—he’d marked Sinclair inside. And that made this alpha his.
Dom couldn’t stop the roaring in his chest whenever he thought about it. He couldn’t help the need to fucking claim Sinclair, so thoroughly that Sinclair wouldn’t acknowledge anyone, but Dom, as his alpha.
He kissed down until Sinclair’s cock smeared precome against his chin. Then he kissed its tip, and took it into his mouth.
Sinclair swore, his spine arching, his fingers shoving into Dom’s hair.
Dom pulled away, surprised by his reaction. “Have you... never received a blowjob?”
Sinclair didn’t answer, but his flush betrayed him.
Oh, Dom loved popping his cherries.
He shoved Sinclair’s thighs open and kissed down his cock. It was musky, heavy, ever so silky when Dom licked it—a soft touch all the way to his tip. Sinclair tensed, surprise flashing through his eyes. Dom lapped up his precome, all salty and slippery—it would go perfectly inside his hole. He swallowed what Sinclair leaked, taking that blunt tip past his lips. Then he hollowed his cheeks, letting Sinclair dip in and out of his mouth, just playing with that sensitive flesh.
It wasn’t even much. But the way Sinclair cursed, his breathing turning ragged... With every touch, his chest heaved, his balls pulling tight. Dom took him deeper; Sinclair groaned, precome squirting onto Dom’s tongue.
He was such a virgin. Dom hadn’t realized this earlier. Now, he was so damn pleased he’d found out.
He grasped Sinclair’s cock and sucked hard. Sinclair arched clean off the floor. “Fuck, fuck—”
He was panting, his hands fisted in Dom’s hair, his cock so thick that he’d blow right past the edge if Dom kept it up.
So Dom gave him a sweet, slow suck, and let Sinclair slide out of his mouth. It left with a soft pop, all glistening and lewd—so fucking desperate. Dom’s balls tightened, his cock throbbed.
Sinclair squirmed, a low, soft sound escaping his throat. There was vulnerability in his eyes now, a sort of pleading that told Dom he was close to breaking.
Dom stood, stepping out of his pants. “That’s all for tonight. See yourself out the door.”
“What the fuck,” Sinclair breathed.
Dom shrugged. “I told you the words.”
He headed for his bedroom. Six steps in, Sinclair gasped, “Dom.”
Dom’s balls ached, they needed to empty into Sinclair so badly. Instead, he held still. Even though he needed to see the look on Sinclair’s face.
He unbuttoned his shirt, tossing it aside. “Don’t waste my time, Sinclair.”
Silence stretched between them, punctuated by Sinclair’s sharp breaths. Dom swallowed hard.
Truthfully, he was going to kick himself if Sinclair upped and left.
But he wanted Sinclair to ask. He wanted to know that Sinclair needed him enough to beg. Dom began to leave again, making each step slow and deliberate—giving Sinclair time.
It was only when he was almost to his bedroom, that Sinclair said, so quietly Dom almost didn’t hear him, “Please.”
That single word sent blood pounding through Dom’s veins like a storm surge. He turned, fighting the instinct to lunge. To bowl Sinclair over and have him, right now.
Dom held his ground, meeting Sinclair’s eyes—Sinclair was on his feet, shoulders stiff, his expression wary, doubtful.
He would submit to Dom tonight. And Dom would make it worth his while.
Dom jerked his chin toward his bedroom, flicking on the lights. He was almost to his bed, when Sinclair tackled him from behind, sending him crashing face-down onto the mattress.
“I told you it was gonna be hard,” Sinclair hissed in his ear, grinding his cock between Dom’s asscheeks.
Something shifted in Dom’s chest—something that changed the way he saw Sinclair.
Dom loved a challenge. Jesse Sinclair... exceeded all his expectations, each one more than the previous. And Dom couldn’t get enough of him.
He twisted around in Sinclair’s arms, meeting his eyes. And the smile curving his lips was every bit as dangerous as the weapon Sinclair had been turned into.
“You don’t scare me,”
