Page 12 of His Incubus Husband

“Valentino.” Yes, he kept the name he’d given himself the other night. Sentimental? Maybe. He liked it. “You can call me Tino.”

“And exactly what kind of performances do you do, Tino?”

“Anything from solo with toys to gang bangs. I’ve heard you recently purchased a very nice breeding bench. I’d like to try it out for an hour.”

It took Big Bobby a few frantic heartbeats to sort through the lewd images in his head. Tino could see them as clearly as if they were his own thoughts. The alpha was a simple man, easy to read. He swallowed thickly. “When?”

“Tomorrow.”

The chair squeaked as Big Bobby shifted and adjusted his dick. “I won’t have time for promo. I can’t offer you more than five hundred.”

For a gang bang? Tino could get more for one blowjob downtown. But money wasn’t why he was here—his reason for playing this game was entirely other.

“I’m leaving on Saturday and need at least two thousand.”

Big Bobby opened a pack of cigarettes and lit one. “You’re pretty. Why don’t you go whoring in the business district if you want that kind of money?”

Tino smirked. “That’s boring.”

“Seven hundred, but you’ll do two hours. I’ll be there the entire time, making sure nobody gets too rough.” He sounded about as convincing as a used-car salesman.

Tino pretended to think about it.

Then he stood and unzipped his pants. He lowered them to just under his ass cheeks, angling his ass toward Big Bobby. As he ran his hand over the smooth velvet of his exposed skin, he could smell the alpha’s arousal already.

“I can do two hours,” he said. “For one thousand plus tips.”

The club owner laughed, sounding a little strained. “They’re going to rip your ass to shreds.”

But Tino only smiled prettily over his shoulder. “Is that a promise?”

Big Bobby leaned over the desk and grabbed Tino’s ass cheek. He squeezed and hummed then patted the muscle. Settling back into his chair, he took a drag from his cigarette.

“How about a test ride, huh?” he rasped.

Would he fuck Tino over his desk and kick him out? But Tino doubted it. He’d come in a sinfully enticing form as a twenty-year-old dark-haired omega with a golden complexion and deep green eyes. His lips were plump and juicy, and his asshole was like a ripe raspberry. The alpha would be an idiot to pass on the opportunity to have Tino bound to a bench in his club.

Tino slowly peeled his skin-tight jeans down his legs. He bent over until his fingers touched the floor and showed Big Bobby his smooth crease.

The alpha let out a heavy breath, filling the air with smoke. “Eight hundred, and I can give you twenty percent of the tips.”

Tino scoffed as he turned around. He dragged his tank top over his head and, stark naked, walked around the desk. After sinking to his knees, he ran his hand over the bulge in the alpha’s leather pants.

Big Bobby didn’t get his nickname based on his impressive six-and-a-half-feet, two-hundred-sixty-pounds figure. He was hung like a horse.

He watched avidly as Tino unzipped him and pulled the weapon out.

The giant penis hardened in Tino’s hands. It smelled of sweat and musk. A raw, filthy alpha stench that had Tino’s womb aching. A ladder of piercings adorned the underside. Tino flicked his tongue over a big barbell in the bulging cockhead.

“You tell your patrons it’s my first-ever club performance,” he said, lips moving against Big Bobby’s slit. “You take ten bucks for a kiss on my asshole. Then you auction off the first fuck.” He mouthed the crown and suckled softly.

Big Bobby pressed his cigarette into the ashtray on his desk and fisted Tino’s hair. “Keep going.”

Tino lifted his head, struggling against the pressure of Big Bobby’s hand on his scalp. “For the second half, you open me up with a womb wand and take as much as you think your patrons will pay per breeding.”

With a groan, the alpha pressed Tino’s head down.

“Outside heat? That’ll hurt.” He sounded excited. Eager.