Dom of Las Vegas (Sin City 1) by Tricia Owens

Author:Tricia Owens
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: gay, bdsm, domination, submission, bondage, submissive, mm, dominance, kink, bodyguards
Publisher: Tricia Owens

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Maxmillian Poole wasn't a frequent attendee of fashion shows. While he possessed an interest in men's fashion—he wanted to wear the best—sitting through a flashy show watching skin-and-bones women prance past him with angry expressions on their faces wasn't particularly entertaining. He had a personal shopper at Neiman Marcus who handled his clothing purchases and that satisfied him very well.

But his newfound knowledge of Ethan Winter's employment history coupled with his friendship with Eric Bauman had led to Max's unlikely presence at the Fall Fling charity fashion show, enduring the techno music and the angry models. To be certain, it wasn't a complete waste of time. This was a black-tie affair. The audience members were prospective clients. Indeed, James was in the audience seated with a regular female client. During the pre-show mixer Maxmillian had made promising contacts and expected to garner a fair amount of future business from this event.

But that wasn't why he was here. The reason had just passed him on the runway, golden hair gleaming in the lights, fit body moving fluidly beneath expertly tailored clothing. My weakness, Maxmillian thought with a flash of annoyance. But the flash was small, an ember more than a spark. It was difficult to be upset with himself when the sight of Ethan Winter made him pleasantly aware of his own body and the ways in which he hadn't used it lately.

When Winter had unexpectedly glanced down at him, their eyes had locked for a fraction of a second. It was all Max needed to confirm the attraction was mutual and as strong as it had been at ISC. A rare excitement made Max shift in his seat. He hadn't felt this way in a long time. Not even with Jonathan.

He watched the other models with impatience, his eyes constantly shifting to the entrance of the runway where the models emerged. The women were beautiful, the men androgynous and well-formed. He didn't like looking at any of them. His frustration mounted as he waited for one model and one model only to reappear.

Then Winter stepped onto the stage again. Maxmillian tensed. It was as if every light in the building gravitated to the handsome blond, highlighting him brighter than any other model.

Maxmillian's eyes drank in the sight of him, admiring the way Winter's new outfit—camel-colored slacks and a wine shirt opened at the throat and rolled up at the sleeves—fit every angle and line of his body. The red was too dark for the blond man, Maxmillian decided. It made him look older and jaded. If he dressed Winter he'd put him in nothing but pastels. Darkness was better suited to dominant men like himself.

With hawkish intensity, he watched Winter traverse the runway. Maxmillian could feel his cock, thick and solid, burning against the skin of his inner thigh. He wanted to plunge it into Winter, wanted to watch the younger man's lashes flutter shut in surrender as Max thrust his thick girth inside him again and again.

Winter paused at the end of the stage, offering a pair of poses, before heading back down the runway.

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