Does she want to kiss me? Does she know what it means to kiss a minotaur?
“I want to kiss you even though you’re horrible,” I whisper.
Her chuckle dusts warm air over my neck and chin. “I like the honesty.”
“But I can’t.”
She frowns. “Why?”
“When a minotaur kisses someone, they are claiming them. Especially when they do it in public.”
“No one cares. And I’m certainly not letting you claim me. Even if you weren’t the ultimate thorn in my side, I’d never allow you to do that.”
The crowd is pushing and jostling around us and the lights have all been doused so it’s dark enough to provide somesecrecy. With the moon in its hidden state, there is little light coming through the tavern’s windows.
“I want to do very dirty things to that dangerously pretty mouth of yours, but I hesitate because of my kind’s ways.”
“Screw your minotaur tradition. You’re in Leafshire Cove. Make your own traditions. Start with kissing me just because it’s a party and hate sex is fabulous.”
I laugh at that, and my body heats at hearing the wordsexcome out of her red lips. She has a good point. I’m here to start over. To make my way in the world. I don’t have an estate right now; I’m not really a lord any longer. Why should I adhere to a custom that no one here even knows about? There aren’t any other minotaurs in town—I checked. There’s no council to demand I follow the rules of courting.
My heart beats hard once as I lean closer. “Fine.”
I press my lips to hers and desire shoots down my body. She tastes like mint and smokewater and I can’t get enough. Her hands find my hips and bunch in my tunic, just under my belt. I spread my fingers into her hair and ease her even closer. My cock and the knot at its base—just a bump at the moment—rub against her belly and she moans into my mouth. Gods, I want to take her right here in the middle of this wild mayhem. I want to turn her around, throw her over that table, and pop a knot into her so big that she’ll scream my name. She’ll want me the way I want her.
I’m definitely drunk.
Her tongue tangles with mine and her breasts push against me. I drag my lips down her smooth throat and lick my way over her collarbone as she moans. I take one hand from her hair and cup her breast, right at the bottom of that luscious curve. I move my thumb over her nipple and it peaks under the black fabric of her dress. She gasps and makes a mewing noise that could make me come in a matter of seconds.
I want her to touch my horns or my tail—two of the most sensitive parts of my body. My tail wraps tightly around her leg as I try to touch her in every way I can here in the middle of a dark tavern. I use the tip of my tail to tickle her thigh, and she hums into my ear, her hands still bunching my tunic and the waist of my trousers like she has to hold on to me or this will end. I don’t mind it one bit.
I dare to slip my tail farther up under her skirts until I feel the heat of her center through her underclothes. Wiggling the end of my tail, I just barely touch the fabric over her folds. She gasps loudly and nearly breaks skin as she grips me through my clothing.
“Like that, do you?” I whisper into her ear.
Pulling away, she looks up at me. We’re both practically panting.
“Can you get me some water?” she asks, her eyes bright behind her mask.
“That’s not what I was hoping you’d say.”
She lifts a shoulder. “I’m just parched.”
It’s fine. It is hot in here, and we’ve been downing copious amounts of alcohol. “I’m on it. Be right back.”
I adjust my trousers and tunic, and then I work my way through the wild dancing and clanging bells to the bar.
When I return to where I left Tully with a glass of water in hand, she is gone.
Chapter 9
Tully
Iwaltz out of the tavern and into the cold night air. Argos’s rune stones are warm in my dress pockets—whether from his body heat or magic, I don’t know.
His scent is all over me. Musk. Woodsmoke. Sandalwood. I bite my lip, wishing I didn’t like it so much. I exhale, leaving all that behind and ripping my mask off. I tuck it into my belt and hurry through the snow.
Is it bad that I stole from someone while making out with them? I’m soaking wet from his tail’s delightful attentions under my skirts. I have to admit there is a part of me that wishes he was on his way back to my house with me, ready to spend the night exploring everything it means to sleep with a minotaur.
