Dom needed Sinclair beneath him, he needed Sinclair to gasp and groan, his face scrunching up when Dom touched between his legs. When Dom slid inside him.
That thought made his throat go dry. He reached down, finding Sinclair hard behind his sleeping shorts. Dom’s clothes. An answering hunger roared through his veins, shooting straight to his cock.
Dom shoved Sinclair roughly against the counter and ground their hips together; Sinclair swore, his cock jerking, his teeth scraping against Dom’s lower lip.
“Damn you,” Sinclair breathed, but there was no anger anywhere on him. Just an eager sort of desire when he parted his lips, his tongue tangling with Dom’s in a sweet, intoxicating dance.
Dom thrust into his mouth, savoring the groan that Sinclair couldn’t stifle in time. “Yeah? You like it when I put things inside you?” Dom whispered.
Sinclair shivered. Dom thought those words might’ve reminded Sinclair of his past, but Sinclair only tightened his fists in Dom’s clothes, yanking them closer. “I’m not gonna beg,” Sinclair hissed.
Dom’s mouth curved in a dark smile; Sinclair’s aggression made his nerves hum like a cello string. “On the contrary, Sinclair,” he whispered. “You will beg for my cock.”
“Fuck you,” Sinclair snarled, heaving Dom backward. Dom found his footing in time, but his back met the fridge with a hard thump. Sinclair was there immediately, biting down on Dom’s lower lip, forcefully enough to draw blood. Pain burst down Dom’s body. Sinclair loved doing that, it seemed, when his eyes darkened and he dragged his tongue over Dom’s bleeding lip. Then he bit a second time, leaving another mark. Dom’s mouth throbbed.
“Maybe you ought to be punished,” Dom whispered, grasping Sinclair’s firm ass. It was solid beneath his fingers, warm and inviting. Dom couldn’t help pushing his hand down the back of Sinclair’s shorts.
Sinclair wasn’t wearing any underwear beneath. His ass was hot and smooth, and Dom grasped it, spreading him open. So Sinclair could feel how exposed his hole was, and how Dom would touch him there.
“Fuck,” Sinclair hissed, musk rolling off his skin.
“Yeah? You like when I open your ass?” Dom growled into his mouth. “Want something big in there?”
Then he reached deeper and touched the pucker of Sinclair’s hole, pressing down lightly on it. Such a sweet, tight entrance. Sinclair wheezed, his pupils blowing wide, his breath punching out of him.
He’d reacted the same exact way when Dom fucked him the first time.
“Fuck, Sinclair.” Dom grew so hard, he ached. He swirled his finger around Sinclair’s entrance, lightly tapping on it. So Sinclair knew where Dom had set his sights. Sinclair groaned and swore, yanking on Dom’s clothes.
Except Dom removed his hand, bringing it up between them. He met Sinclair’s eyes. “I’m not going back there tonight,” Dom whispered. “You want it, you’ll have to ask me for it.”
Then, with Sinclair’s attention locked on him, Dom took his fingertip into his mouth, tasting the very barest trace of Sinclair’s musk and dampness. It tasted like an omega’s slick, but darker, earthier.
“I can’t believe you,” Sinclair hissed.
Dom only smiled. “I’ll lick your hole if you say ‘Please’.”
Sinclair exhaled in a slow, measured breath, his eyes burning. Like he wanted badly for Dom to lick him, fuck him, but he wouldn’t let himself ask for it.
“No fucking way,” Sinclair muttered, every word low and forceful, vibrating against Dom’s lips.
“Yeah, try to convince yourself. You’re getting there.” Dom flipped them around, thumping Sinclair against the fridge, rutting their covered cocks together—flesh on sensitive flesh. Pleasure jolted down his spine; Sinclair bared his teeth, his breathing turning heavy. He was enjoying this, just as much as Dom was.
Sinclair planted his hands on Dom’s chest and shoved him off, hard. Before Dom could regain his footing, Sinclair lunged at him, slamming him down onto the floor. The impact jolted a dull pain through Dom’s body, along with the feral urge to strike back, to own.
Dom forced himself to calm down. To see what Sinclair would do.
Sinclair straddled his hips, his eyes gleaming with part-hunger, part-dominance. He wanted control over Dom—so Dom let him have a taste of it.
Sinclair rocked forward, shoving their covered cocks together. Bliss raked down Dom’s spine; Sinclair groaned, shoving harder.
Weeks ago, Dom wasn’t even sure they would touch this intimately again. Except here they were, Sinclair’s sleeping shorts a light gray, hiding absolutely nothing about the thick length straining behind it. From the ridge along his underside, to the light press of his tip, to the dark spot that was quickly spreading through the cotton.
Dom reached down, pinching Sinclair’s tip between his fingers. It was blunt like his own, sensitive. And he raked his nail against the bundle of nerves under Sinclair’s head.
Sinclair arched and swore, knocking Dom’s hand away. “Fuck you.”
“That all you can say?” Dom smiled. And he reached back down, dragging his nail against Sinclair’s tip, harder this time, until it almost became painful. Sinclair roared and grabbed Dom’s hands, pinning them against the floor. “Seems like you can’t think whenever you get horny,” Dom murmured.
“Yes, I can,” Sinclair hissed. He reached down to pull his cock out. In doing that, he released Dom’s hand. Dom followed him down, rubbing Sinclair’s underside with a slow, firm pressure. Sinclair’s eyelids fluttered shut, his breath puffing out. That, too, was a good look—when he was unguarded.
Dom leaned up, pressing a kiss to Sinclair’s stubbled jaw. It was ticklish, a little rough. Then he kissed down Sinclair’s throat, to his pulse point. Before Sinclair could react, Dom closed his mouth around it and sucked, and Sinclair’s hips bucked.
“Fuck,” Sinclair hissed, his pulse hammering against Dom’s tongue.
Dom sank his teeth into Sinclair’s skin, almost biting him there. He wanted to leave his mark on this man—Sinclair was wearing his clothes, and he had Dom’s blackwood scent on him.
Mine, Dom’s instincts said. And an insane possessiveness flared to life in his veins.
He caught Sinclair’s knee, rolling him off. Before Sinclair could react, Dom bore down on him, flattening Sinclair chest-down against the floor. And he shoved his covered length against Sinclair’s ass, roughly enough that Sinclair felt every thrust.
Sinclair growled, grinding right back. Dom badly wanted to tear open those shorts and plow inside.
“You’re gonna come like that, old man,” Sinclair hissed.
“Not before you come first.” Dom reached around, grasping Sinclair’s velvety cock. He was even harder than before.
Sinclair didn’t smell the same tonight. His musk was strong, but not quite as strong as that first day. And Dom wasn’t going into a rut.
Maybe... Sinclair had really been in heat, that time.
He wasn’t in heat now. So he didn’t have that excuse for the decisions he made tonight.
Dom kept a firm grip on Sinclair’s arousal. Then he pumped it, good and hard, the way he liked to pleasure himself. Sinclair hissed, precome smearing onto Dom’s fingers.
“The fuck are you doing?” Sinclair thrashed against him.
“What does it look like I’m doing?” Dom cupped his balls roughly. Then he tightened his fist around Sinclair’s cock and tugged, flicking his wrist at the very tip. Sinclair panted, growing thicker, his chest heaving. It felt like he was close, and Dom wasn’t even inside him yet.
So Dom rolled them onto their sides. He wrapped his leg around Sinclair’s thigh, forcing his knees apart. Then he reached down, grasped Sinclair’s shorts, and tore it open at his crotch. So he had direct access to Sinclair’s hole.
He reached into his ruined shorts, pressing down firmly against Sinclair’s taint—a pressure that would go right into Sinclair’s prostate.
Sinclair threw his head back and groaned, spreading his leg
s wider. An invitation.
Dom’s instincts snarled. “Remember the words,” Dom rasped in his ear. “‘Donut’. And if you want this in your ass—” he rocked his bulge against Sinclair’s crack “—the word is ‘Please.’”
“Get the hell away,” Sinclair spat, at the same time he ground his ass against Dom’s cock, a sweet pressure that wasn’t enough.
Dom yanked his belt open, his patience wearing thin. He undid his fly. Pushed down his underwear so his cock shoved out, flushed and straining.
It would look so good, opening Sinclair’s hole.
“It’s out,” Dom whispered, tugging up Sinclair’s shirt to expose his lower back. Then he rubbed his tip down Sinclair’s spine, and lifted it away.
Sinclair stopped completely with his thrashing. Dom smiled wider. Sinclair wanted more, didn’t he?
So Dom leaned in and murmured, “This is what it feels like.”
And he let it brush, ever so lightly, against Sinclair’s ass, the torn scrap of cotton the only thing keeping them apart. Over and over, Dom caressed Sinclair’s crack with his tip, a brief, light touch, a slow slide that they both knew wasn’t anywhere close to how hard Dom could fuck.
Dom closed his mouth around Sinclair’s earring, sucking lightly on it. “I haven’t come in a while. It’s thick and creamy if you want it. Straight from my—” he eased his tip into the tear of Sinclair’s shorts, his skin tingling where he caressed Sinclair’s taint “—spout.”
Sinclair’s breath rushed out. He reared up and threw Dom off his back, whirling around to shove Dom flat against the floor.
Dom’s blood thrummed twice as hot in his veins. “Playing rough, are we?”
“Never gonna be easy, Dom,” Sinclair snarled.
He reached down and grasped Dom’s pants, ripping his clothes all the way down to his ankles. Then he flipped Dom over, so Dom’s ass faced up. Quicker than anything, Sinclair grasped Dom’s cheeks, spreading them.
He spat. A touch of warmth landed between Dom’s cheeks, trickling all the way down to his hole.
Dom’s cock ached. Sinclair had put forth a challenge. And now Sinclair grasped his flushed cock, getting ready to claim Dom. But Dom didn’t have plans for being on that end tonight.
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,” Dom whispered.
Sinclair growled and crashed their lips together, sliding into Dom’s mouth. He surged inside, claiming wherever he touched, a rough, hungry presence that drew a groan from Dom’s throat. Dom bit hard on Sinclair’s lip, hard enough to leave his own mark. Then he thrust his tongue into Sinclair’s mouth, tangling their tongues, electricity pumping through his veins with every touch.
“Damn,” Sinclair breathed.
Dom broke the kiss and pushed two fingers into Sinclair’s mouth. “Suck on them. Get them good and wet.”
Sinclair groaned, the sound vibrating into Dom’s body. But he obeyed, sucking on them—gently at first, then harder and harder, until each tug felt like how Sinclair’s hole would wrap around Dom’s cock. Dom’s balls grew heavy; fuck if he could wait much longer.
He withdrew his fingers and reached down, shoving them between Sinclair’s cheeks. No warning. Just a quick thrust against Sinclair’s hole, forcefully enough that he almost pushed inside.
“‘Donut’, Sinclair,” Dom rasped, his cock so hard, he couldn’t think. “Last chance.”
“Fuck you,” Sinclair hissed, shoving Dom hard against the mattress.
“Not tonight.” And Dom thrust his fingers into Sinclair, two at once, stretching his hole open.
He was hot inside. Tight like before. Dom groaned, pushing his fingers all the way in, savoring the way Sinclair’s body yielded to him, the way he was hot like a furnace inside.
Sinclair groaned, his jaw going slack. Dom didn’t wait. He found Sinclair’s prostate and thrust against it, rough, deep strokes that had Sinclair tensing, his eyes rolling back, his cock so red, it looked volatile.
Alpha in Heat Page 15
