Ella And Dominic Sinclair Novels & Stories

He said, making her laugh aloud and throw her head backward. "I can't believe you just said that," Elise laughed uncontrollably. "Well, I'm telling the truth. I belong to you and you belong to me. You'll soon be Mrs Sinclair," Damien stated, forgetting that they came from the same family. "I'm a Sinclair," Elise reminded him. "Oh, that's so weird," He said with a baffled expression that made both of them laugh. "Well, you don't have to bear Sinclair again. You can just bear Mrs Damien,"

“Hey, Mom, this is my friend Madonna Saint Elise. Madonna, this is Laura Fernandez.” “Saint Elise?” Glancing from me to her, my mom asks, “As in Saint Elise Racing?” Pinching her fingers together, Madonna replies, “In name only. My brothers are the stars of that operation. It’s their baby.” They shake hands. “It’s very nice to meet you, Ms. Saint Elise.” “You can call me Laura.”

I explained. "Who?" he asked, peering at me. Damian turned in his seat, facing his body in my direction. He was close enough for me to see how thick his eyelashes were and how dark his eyes were. I nearly frowned in jealousy. He was handsome, effortlessly so. Dimples, full lips-tattooed skin. He was the base of all erotic fantasies, mine included. "A friend, but something came up and she cancelled on me," I said and knowing Silvana, I had no doubt that it was an emergency.

“They call you Don Moretti. The youngest mafia don in the city. You control half the underground businesses. People disappear when they cross you.” She kept stroking him as she spoke. His shaft grew heavier, veins starting to show. Dante didn’t deny it. He just looked at her with those calm, dark eyes. “And yet you’re here,” he said. “Touching my cock. Making it respond when no one else can. Does that scare you?” Elara’s breath came faster. “Yes. It scares me. I could lose everything. My job. My life. My husband—” “Your husband,” Dante repeated. He sounded almost amused. “The one who leaves bruises on your hips. The one who fucks you like he owns you.”

Damien asked, with hate visible in his eyes. “Alpha, pardon me. I came to serve the meal,” she said softly, staring at her feet. “Well, Elle served me well, as your miserable self took too long to come out of hiding!” He said with anger. “I'm sorry, Alpha,” She said meekly, tilting her head to the side. “Damien, I need to use the bathroom.” Elle said sweetly, kissing his lips, she passed Ariel a cold glare, before she left for the bathroom.

Then I whispered it. A name I didn’t even realize I’d made up for him in my mind. “PROFESSOR SIN ?”

The subscriber list pinged open. There he was. Robert W. Hartwell. Age: 47. Occupation: Investment banker. Known usernames: ObeyMeAlpha, HumbledDaddy86, and, most damningly, DevotedToDomica. Priscilla’s father. Dominique stared at the screen, lips parting slowly into a smile so subtle it barely moved her face. “Bingo.” The next morning, school buzzed with rumors about Dominique’s dethroning. Whispers floated through lockers and bleachers like glitter laced with blood.