Page 51 of Mongrel
I want to ask Dominus just what he thinks he’s doing, but Bowie speaks up first. “We won’t require your services today.”
“No, I don’t imagine you will.” Whistling, Dominus lingers behind us, making me nervous. “Getting a piece of tail with an actual tail, Bowie? Nice.”
How. Does. He. Know?
I tuck my tail as close to my body as it will go. It’s hidden beneath my pants, but not so hidden that someone staring at my ass the way Dominus is won’t notice the anomaly.
“I’ve brought coin. Which room are we in?” asks Bowie in a clipped tone.
Dominus returns to stand in front of us, hands on hips. “Are you certain I couldn’t interest you in—”
“You can’t. Which room?” Bowie’s grip on my waist doesn’t relent in the slightest.
“Worth a try.” Dominus blows out an exaggerated sigh and spins. I’m surprised to notice he has a tail too. Different from mine, soft and leathery, whiplike with a heart-shaped nub at the tip. It sways with his hips as he walks. “Follow me.”
We pass through a ramped hallway decorated with lavish draped silks hung at alternating angles from the ceiling. Dominus is so tall his horns sweep the fabric aside as he moves. Bowie and I walk beneath without touching the decor. The flowery scent of incense and smoke blends with the aroma of sex to create a heaviness in the air I find unpleasant.
Dominus pushes open a carved wooden door with the image of naked men engaged in fellatio. It’s…quite realistic. “Here you are,” he says with a flourish of ringed fingers. “Will there be anything else?”
Bowie hands over a purse of coin and shakes his head. “No, thank you. We’ll leave at dusk.”
Dominus bows low, giving me an indulgent look at his magnificent horns. “Do come again, but next time I insist you share.” With one last leer in my direction, he leaves us alone, and we slip into the room, shutting the obscene door behind us.
“I apologize for being so possessive out there,” says Bowie. “I’m well aware you’re notmine. It’s just that Dominus is rather pushy, and you’re off-limits.” He hesitates. “Unless you want to be…on-limits, in which case, you’ll need to speak up because—”
“I don’t.”
“Good, good.” Bowie nods. “He used his sway on you, didn’t he?”
“If by ‘sway’ you mean I nearly lost my mind imagining him naked and frisky, then yes. He must have.”
Bowie’s brows arch. “Is Dominus your type?”
I take my time looking Bowie over. The room beyond him can wait because a vulnerable expression crosses his handsome face, and suddenly all I want is to reassure him.
He cuts a fine figure in the fitted blue coat that brings out his eyes. His shining hair fans over his shoulders, framing his pale face with its black glory. Pretty pink lips hang slightly parted, and if one looks close, which I most certainly do, twin protrusions give away the fangs behind them. He’s perfect.
“You’re my type.” As the words leave my lips, I can’t believe I’ve been so bold. But why stop here? I take Bowie’s face in my hands and kiss him before he can respond. “I liked it when you called me yours,” I growl against his lips.
He opens for me, returning the kiss with growing enthusiasm. Clutching my waist, he draws me close and presses us together so I feel his desire for me against my own. “Mine,” he says.
And I want to be. Ireallywant to be.
Chapter 17
“Wait,” says Bowie against my mouth. “Are you certain about this?”
“Yes.” Pushing him toward the bed, I break off our kiss long enough to make sure we don’t trip on the lavish rugs.
This room has the same feel as the rest of the brothel. Seductive. Overly decorated.
Lush, brightly colored silk hangs on every wall and from the ceiling to drape over the bed. At least it smells better in here. Freshly laundered fabric and expensive soap, perfumed to smell of sandalwood and cedar. There’s no hiding what this room is used for, but I don’t care. Not when Bowie is wriggling in my arms.
His thighs hit the back of the bed, and he thumps to a sit. I press him back against the blue velvet bedcover, chasing his lips with mine.
“But—” Bowie turns his head to the side. I hover over him, waiting with heavy impatience. He feels divine beneath me. “How do youknowyou’re certain and it’s not their influence? Dominus did sway you back there.”
When Bowie sucks his lower lip into his mouth and bites down on it with one fang, I nearly explode with longing.
