Chapter 29
I’d just climbed into bed when my door opened, a dark figure stalking across the room.
“Sinclair, what are?—?”
Before I could finish the question, he scooped me up and tossed me over his shoulder.
“What the hell are you doing?” I asked, gripping the back of his shirt.
His hand connected with my ass in a hard slap. “Be quiet or you’ll wake the whole fucking house.”
He carried me into his room, kicking the door shut behind us and tossing me on the bed. My heart was slamming against my sternum and heat was pooling between my legs at his dominance. I wasn’t wearing much, just a sleep shirt, leaving my legs bare to him.
“Don’t you think your girlfriend would have a problem with you man-handling me and tossing me on your bed?”
Sinclair started unbuttoning his shirt, staring down at me. “She’s not my fucking girlfriend.”
I pressed up to my elbows. “Excuse me? Did you two break up?”
“She was never my girlfriend.”
I glared at him. “The two of you put on a pretty good show for two people who aren’t dating.”
“That’s the point. It’s a show.”
My eyes landed on his ridiculously hot body as he removed his shirt at a torturously slow pace and all I could do was watch as he undressed. He tossed his shirt to the floor and my mouth slackened in awe.
His body was a work of art. Not just from the rippling muscles all over each inch of him, but the tattoos. He’d kept his shirt on last time we’d done this, keeping his body a secret from me.
“You’ve had that hidden away under there the whole time?” My eyes ran over the intricate designs running over his shoulder, pecs, and arms, stopping just before his wrists. The piercing had been surprising enough the first time he’d fucked me, and I was dying to feel it inside me again. But the tattoos were something else.
He smirked. “Did you think I was too serious to have tattoos?”
Actually, that was exactly what I’d believed. I’d always thought of Sinclair as the enigma. The brother who revealed nothing with his expressions or his words. But he was revealing it all now, showing me all the words and symbols that meant something to him, so much so that he’d inked them permanently on his skin.
These guys never failed to surprise me. Dacre, who looked like a bruiser but had the soul of a sensitive artist underneath it all. And Presley with his charm and bravado, who deep down was a damn golden retriever, desperate to be loved.
But Sinclair… damn. Sin had surprised me the most. Mr. Buttoned-up Suit with a secret ink stash.
“Why do you hide them?”
They were all strategically placed, nothing visible near his neck or wrists, which was how he’d been able to hide them from me and the rest of the world. He shifted slightly and I got a peek at more covering his back.
He stared down at me, stroking my cheek like a favored toy. “Because people don’t take you seriously in my world when you’re covered in art. They write you off as some kind of deadbeat stereotype. That’s not who I am, so I’ll look the part and play their game if it gets me ahead, but only to a point.”
I reached for him, tracing the lines along his pecs and forearms. “You’re full of surprises.”
The corner of his mouth hitched. “Oh Princess, you don’t even know the half of it.” His gaze hardened as he stared down at where my sleep shirt had ridden up my thighs, exposing me. He flicked open his belt buckle, whipping the leather from his waist. “Now are you going to shut the fuck up or am I going to have to tie you up?”
I stilled, mouth hanging open at his words.
I’d be a goddamn liar if I said I hadn’t dreamed about this moment. Seeing Sinclair shirtless, a leather belt in his hand, as he stared down at me expectantly, had me hotter than I’d ever been.
I lifted my chin, gaze locked on his. “You’re going to have to tie me up.”
That ghost of a smile twitched at his lips again, and it was my undoing. “My fucking pleasure.”
Taking the bottom of my sleep shirt in his hands, he whipped it off over my head and tossed it to the floor. Then he gripped both my ankles and flipped me over so I was face-down on the mattress, pulling my hands behind my back and looping his belt around my wrists, pulling it tight.
Running a slow hand down my spine, he gripped my waist, tugging me back toward him so my ass was in the air, my cheek pressed to the bed.
He dropped one knee to the edge of the bed, leaning over me so his lips were a breath away from mine. “You’ve been driving me fucking crazy for months. Now that I’ve fucked you, you’re in my damn blood. I’m taking it whenever I want.”
My insides heated at his words, pooling between my legs. Everything about this was both unexpected and so fucking hot.
“Wearing the shit that you do,” Sinclair said, smoothing a hand down my back again and over my exposed ass. “Running your mouth. Fucking my goddamn brothers.”
His eyes were hard as they assessed me, just like they always were. Only this time there was something else there.
Hunger.
“It’s my turn now, Princess.”
Our gazes locked, and I nodded.
I wanted this. Had been waiting for this.
It was all the permission he needed, hand gliding over my ass to slide over my slick seam. “You’re so fucking wet.”
I’d never been tied up before, but everything about this was turning me on. His dominance, his need, being wanted by him. It was what I’d needed all along.
I had tried to resist the pull of his gravity, but it was no use; I was too damn attracted to him. He was an endless pool, and I was ready to drown.
He dipped a finger inside of me, and I sucked in a breath.
“Sinclair,” I whispered, pleasure simmering through me. I wanted to arch my back at his touch, but I couldn’t move, my hands too tight behind me. “Sin, please.”
I needed more. So much more. Tying me up had been all the foreplay required, I was ready to go and wanted him buried deep inside me.
“Say it again.” The command in his voice made my pulse race.
I forced my eyes open, his finger teasing over my clit and making me squirm beneath him. “Sin, please.”
I couldn’t care less that I was begging. I’d beg all night.
He’d barely touched me, and I was already addicted. One word was playing on repeat in my mind.
More. More. More. More.
“I want you. Inside me. Right now.”
Without warning, his fingers thrust inside me, and I cried out at the intrusion, desire flooding my body for the second time. He worked my body over with his fingers, two inside me, his thumb working over my clit and making me cry out.
I was so close to coming when he suddenly pulled out and I cried out for a completely different reason.
“What the hell are you doing? Stop teasing me.”
He laughed quietly and I wish I could have seen it. But he was still behind me, his hands caressing my hips and ass as he spoke. “You’ve teased me for months and now you think you can just demand what you want?”
“Yes,” I ground out, trying to see over my shoulder at the bulge I knew was tenting his boxers right now. “Because you want it, too.”
Dropping a knee to the edge of the bed on either side of me, he leaned over me, his warm body covering my exposed back. His eyes dropped to my mouth. “You’re damn right I do.”
He flipped me on my side, closing his mouth over mine.
It was a high I’d never experienced before. Not with Dacre or Presley. This was completely different. When his tongue slid into my mouth I moaned at the contact, desperate to touch him. To run my hands through his hair. To run my nails down his back.
I tried to move, but he stood tall, flipping me back over so my ass was in the air once more. “I’m the one who gets to touch. And taste. And feel.”
He punctuated the words with a kiss between my legs, tongue swirling over my clit, driving me to the edge of madness.
“Sinclair, please!”
He let out a small laugh. “So fucking needy when you’re not getting what you want.”
His tongue circled me again, and my desperation reached new heights.
“Tell me what you want, Princess.”
His fingers pushed inside me, everything on display from where he knelt behind me.
“I want you to fuck me.”
He stilled. “But we’re just getting started.”
“I don’t care. Do you know how many nights I’ve waited for this? How much I want you? Once wasn’t enough. You’re not the only one who’s been desperate. I need you to fuck me, Sinclair. Now.”
His fingers disappeared from my body, and I screamed into the bed in frustration. The sound of his zipper filled the room, then he was lined up at my entrance.
“I’m not going to be gentle.”
I glanced at him over my shoulder. “I don’t want you to be.”
He ran a finger through my slick folds, brushing against my clit and making me jerk at the contact. “Fuck, you’re glistening, Princess.”
“Please, Sin,” I begged, almost close to tears.
The desperation in my tone must have worked.
“You sure you can handle it?” he teased, gripping himself and rubbing the tip against my slick clit.
I bit my lip at the sensation rippling through me and nodded vigorously. “I can handle it. I want it so badly.”
“Then I’ll give it to you.”
He pushed inside me with one hard thrust that sent me sliding up the bed, but he gripped my waist, tugging me back down on him. We both moaned together at the feel of him buried inside me. He pulled out, the piercing gliding along my inner walls, and I wanted to tear my fucking hair out. I’d never been edged like this, and it was making me so fucking desperate for his cock I’d do just about anything.
He thrust inside me again, all the way to the hilt, his pelvis slamming against my ass. My body jolted up the bed and I cried out at the pleasure that ripped through me. “Oh my god, Sinclair.”
He pulled his hips back, sliding out, then thrusting back in. “Oh fuck, you’re so fucking tight.”
I clenched around him, and his fingers tightened at my waist, his grip possessive.
“I’m not going fucking slow,” he ground out, thrusting in again.
And I moaned over and over as the pleasure built. “I don’t want you to.”
It was all the permission he needed, holding onto my hips and ramming into me over and over. He loosened one hand, gliding it up my spine. His fingers splayed across my scalp as he took my hair in his fist, tugging my head back.
“Are you going to scream my name when you come, Dempsey?”
He thrust in hard, the combination of him filling me and the pain in my scalp forcing a deep guttural moan out of me. “Yes!”
“You fucking better.”
I knew he’d be dominant in the bedroom, but the reality of it was so goddamn consuming. He was possessing me, in every possible way. And all I wanted was more.
His hips worked overtime, slamming in and out of me roughly until I was on the edge of combustion.
“Sinclair, don’t stop, I’m going to come…”
His grip tightened in my hair. “Oh, I’m not stopping. I won’t stop until you’re screaming my name.”
Pleasure built inside me until I couldn’t contain it any longer. He slammed into me again and I exploded, screaming his name just like he wanted.
“Fuck yes…” he grunted, punishing me, drawing every inch of pleasure from my body. “Fuck yes, say my fucking name.”
“Sinclair,” I whimpered. “Oh my god, Sinclair.”
He let go of my hair, only to slide his fingers along my scalp to tighten his grip again, owning me entirely.
“You’re so fucking hot like this, on all fours and tied up for me, like my own personal fuck toy.”
I looked back at him, his face contorted in pleasure, the hard length of him still thrusting inside of me. The pleasure was building again, and I knew I could go a second time.
“I’ll let you rail me like this any time you want, so long as you make me come that hard.”
His jaw clenched and he thrust once… twice… three times so hard I moved up the bed, then he was pulsing inside of me, the sight, the feel, the sounds sending me over the edge a second time. We came together, moaning each other’s names.
When he released my hair and my waist, I collapsed on the bed.
My wrists were chaffed from being bound by the belt, but I didn’t care.
I was so thoroughly fucked.
Sinclair pulled out, reaching for the belt at my wrists and loosening it until it fell away. Then he flipped me over, climbing over me until his warm body was pressed against mine and he hovered over me.
“You’re so fucking beautiful trussed up like that for me, Dempsey.”
I smiled a deeply satiated smile. He reached for the blanket, pulling it up and over us, then wrapped me in his arms in a tender way I never would have expected from him.
I’ve never slept so well.
I woke up the next morning in Sinclair’s bed.
Alone.
A part of me wasn’t surprised, it tracked for someone like him. But that didn’t stop the disappointment and rejection that reared inside me as I stared at the empty side of his bed.
Did that mean he regretted what we’d done last night? Where the hell did we stand now?
My rejection turned to anger as I threw my sleep shirt over my head. I marched into his bathroom, swiping his toothbrush and toothpaste from the vanity and using them both. Our mouths had been all over each other, if he had a problem with me using his toothbrush, he’d just have to get over it. He shouldn’t have left me unattended in his room.
Hustling down the stairs, I stormed into the dining room.
“Woah, someone’s on the fucking warpath this morning,” Presley said from where he sat at the table with Dacre, Byron, and my mother, biting down on his grin. “Who’s in the line of sight today?”
“Sinclair.”
Dacre and Presley shared an amused look.
“Library,” Dacre offered.
Ignoring our interaction, my mother frowned at me. “Dempsey, that outfit isn’t appropriate breakfast attire. Please go upstairs and change, I can see your nipples through that shirt.”
Byron frowned over the top of his tablet.
I pressed my hands to my hips. “You know what isn’t appropriate breakfast conduct, Mother? Discussing someone else’s nipples.”
I didn’t give her a chance to respond, turning on my heel and heading for the library. I burst through the doors, stopping short at finding Sinclair shirtless in nothing but grey sweatpants. He was man-spreading on one of the low leather couches, a book in one hand, a coffee cup in the other, and glasses I’d never even seen him wearing sitting on his face.
Fuck me, he was gorgeous. I was at risk of melting into a puddle on the library floor. He was a book nerd’s dream man right now.
But I was still epically pissed at him.
“Sneaking out of your own bedroom and leaving me to wake up alone is a little low, don’t you think?”
He glanced up. If I’d startled him it didn’t show, but that was Sinclair—emotions chronically locked down.
“There was no sneaking, I walked out as usual.”
I studied every inch of his face, trying desperately to read him. Clearly, he noticed my desperation and threw me a lifeline.
“I didn’t want to wake you. You looked like you were finally having a decent sleep.”
I pulled back, surprised. Not waking me was a kindness I wouldn’t have expected from him. And what did he mean I’d been finally having a decent sleep? Did he know I got up most nights, worrying about the state of my life?
Whatever the reasons, a question filled my head…
Did Sinclair care about me?
He placed his coffee cup on the table to his right, the book following. Then he stared up at me and patted the couch beside him.
I hesitated for the briefest moment only, striding over and curling up at his side. His arm came around me in a move that was uncharacteristically sweet. All of his actions this morning were throwing me for a loop.
At least it answered one of the questions plaguing me when I woke alone in his bed. We weren’t going back to exactly how it had been before last night, and I loved it.
“I didn’t mean to leave you to wake up alone.” He leaned in and pressed his warm lips to my forehead, and I nearly expired on the spot.
What on earth was happening right now?
Whatever it was, I was loving every second of affectionate Sinclair. And it made it easier to ask something that had been playing on my mind.
I glanced up at him. “What you said last night, about you and Veda…”
He ran the hand that wasn’t wrapped around me through his hair, sighing.
“You said she isn’t your girlfriend. That she never was. How is that true?”
His eyes locked with mine, clearly assessing how much to tell me.
“Veda and I have an arrangement.”
I frowned. “What kind of arrangement?”
If it was the friends-with-benefits kind, the raging green jealousy monster was going to make one hell of an appearance. I knew it wasn’t fair; I’d slept with other people before I knew Sinclair, Presley, and Dacre. Hell, I’d let Trenton fuck me in the garden on my first night. But now that I’d had them, the thought of any of them being with anyone else had me instantly possessive in a way I’d never been before.
“The kind where we pretend to be together. For Veda’s sake.”
I sat up. “See, you’re answering my questions, but things aren’t getting any clearer.”
He chuckled, toying with the sleeve of my t-shirt. Seemed this new Sinclair had to be touching me at all times, just like Presley. Dacre, too, really. I didn’t hate it one bit.
“Veda’s a friend. Three years ago, I learned something about her, and she asked me for help. I agreed and we’ve been pretending to be together ever since.” He reached out to tuck my hair behind my ear, his touch whisper soft, and I wanted to melt into him.
“Why would you do that? You’re hot as fuck, you could get any woman you want. Why would you pretend to be with her?”
A slow, satisfied smile spread across Sinclair’s face. “You think I’m hot as fuck?”
I rolled my eyes. “You know you’re disgustingly handsome.”
He pounced on me in an instant, his strong body overpowering mine and forcing me back on the couch until I was pinned under him. His elbows rested on either side of my head, and he hovered over me. “Did you just roll your eyes at me again?”
I nodded wordlessly, fighting my smile at his low, commanding voice. He leaned down, mouth ready to close over mine, but I stilled him with two fingers to his lips.
“I want to do… all that…” I said, motioning to his mouth. “But I want to understand what I’m involved in.”
Sinclair’s expression turned serious. “If I explain it to you, I’m trusting you with information that isn’t mine to share. Information I swore I never would.”
I cupped his jaw with my hand. “I promise you I’ll never repeat it.”
He stared down at me, eyes locked on mine, then he nodded.
“Veda is gay.”
My face lit with surprise.
“She has a girlfriend, also someone in our community. But if her parents ever found out, they’d cut her off and disown her.” His expression filled with anger. “They’re absolute fucking bigots, particularly her pathetic excuse for a father. They’d turn her out on the street if they found out her truth.”
“So how did you find out?”
He stared at my mouth like it was a reward he couldn’t wait to taste. “I walked in on her and her girlfriend at an event. She begged me not to say anything. When we talked about it later, she asked me to help her with her parents, pretend to be with her to stop them suspecting anything else.”
I stared back at him. “And you agreed?”
He nodded as if it was a given. “She’s my friend. I’ve known her since I was three. Veda has been there through everything with my parents, my brothers. She knows me just as well as Dacre and Pres do.”
The jealousy tried to unfurl inside me, but I clamped it down. She’d been a support for him before I’d even known him.
“Does that mean… you and she… you’ve never…” I struggled to ask the question I desperately wanted an answer to.
Sinclair smirked. “Are you asking if I’ve ever had her pinned beneath me like this?”
I bit my lip, nodding sheepishly.
“Never.” His head dipped, his mouth brushing over the sensitive skin at my throat, making me shiver.
He pulled back. “Are we done talking about this? Can I fuck you now?”
I grinned back at him. “Absolutely.”