[Tate keeps on staring upward, dark eyes more and more intent in the way they focus on Derek's face like he's determined to show him just how focused he really is. A challenge is a challenge, after all. So as Derek presses his finger to the flat of his tongue, Tate sucks harder - sealing his lips around his finger and hollowing out his cheeks just because he can. His tongue laps up around the digit before he leans back a little, pulling off after sufficiently wetting it.]

You're still my Dom. Doesn't matter what the city says.

[Since, well, this is a two way street:]

Tell me what you want me to do for you. I liked it when you would.