Page 16 of Changeling
I have about two seconds to hope it’s not Dominus until Dominus appears in the doorway and scowls.
Thank the stars my mouth is full. All I can do is shrug.
He and Rizpah share a clipped conversation during which I hope she’s explaining this isn’t my fault. At first, neither backs down. I shovel more delicious stew into my mouth before my inevitable eviction, but that doesn’t happen. Dominus relents with a put-upon sigh, and Rizpah goes back to tending the ovens.
“Good evening, Sebastian,” says Dominus as if he hasn’t just lost an argument right in front of me. The ease with which he switches languages is impressive.
“Evening.” I gesture helplessly at the bowl. “Sorry about this. Rizpah is difficult to say no to.”
“Tell me about it.” The smallest of grins tugs at his lips.
Rizpah points to the stool beside me. “Ülj le.”
Dominus proves to be as powerless as me when it comes to Rizpah. He takes the seat, his massive frame nearly too big for the stool, but he manages, folding elegantly.
Rizpah sets a huge bowl in front of him and pats his back affectionately. “Legyél kedves.” Then she heads up the stairs, leaving us alone.
I’m so desperate for company even Dominus is better than no one at all. “What did she say?”
He grunts. “She told me tobe nice.”
I like Rizpah. “I suppose you’ll have to obey. Something tells me we shouldn’t cross her.”
“I’m usually nice.” He sounds slightly affronted.
“Is that supposed to make me feel better?” I set my spoon in the bowl and study him.
To my surprise, his expression shows a hint of contrition. He’s dressed in coppery-orange flowing pants tonight, loose around the thighs and cuffed at the ankle. The nearly sheer fabric leaves little to the imagination. Not that there’s anythinglittleabout Dominus. His chest is bare, and just like the pierced belly button I noticed previously, his nipples are decorated. Gold jewelry tonight, threaded from one piercing to the next, around his wrists, hanging from his neck. Kohl lines his lids, and his lips are painted in a lovely coral.
I could stare at him all evening. My jaw hangs open stupidly. What were we talking about?
Dominus smirks. He doesn’t seem to mind me ogling him.
Instead of stopping, I let my gaze drift between his thighs. Stars, but he’s well put together! Any clever remark I might have made lingers on the tip of my eager tongue, unsaid. Saliva pools in my mouth.
“Tell me again why you hate me?” Because I’ve forgotten. Such a pity. The one time in my life I could use a distraction, and the distraction in question wishes we’d never met.
“I don’t hate you.” He turns back to his food.
Could have fooled me. I scoop up a spoonful. The stew, while delicious, has lost a bit of its allure next to what I’d rather be licking.
“Stop that,” he says.
“Stop what?” I’m not doing anything.
“Thinking about sex.” He slurps a mouthful of stew. “It’s distracting.”
My brows meet in the middle. “You can read my thoughts?”
“No. I can smell them. But I don’t need to because you’re being quite obvious.”
“You cansmellmy thoughts?”
“Only the naughty ones. Relax.”
Nothing about me is relaxed at the moment. “But how?”
“It’s just something incubi can do. Like a wolf can smell blood from afar, I can smell when you’re…” He waves a hand; his fingernails are painted golden. “Eager.”
