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Dallas kept his head bowed as the conversation buzzed around him. He fought against the urge to fidget or to find a more comfortable spot on his knees. Master Laurence wouldn’t appreciate any unnecessary movement. Dallas’ ass still remembered the spanking from last week when he had accidentally talked back to his master.
The wolf lurking beneath his skin growled to be let out so it could curl up at its owner’s feet. Although Dallas knew intellectually that Laurence didn’t own him, he couldn’t convince his animal half of that fact. To his wolf, Laurence should be obeyed.
This close to the full moon Dallas struggled to stay in touch with his submissive side. He might not be an alpha wolf but his inner beast knew he could take down an average human. Luckily, Master Laurence didn’t have an average bone in his body, and even though his master didn’t know of Dallas’ feral nature, Laurence had no difficulty bringing his submissive to heel.
Dallas forced his muscles to relax. He didn’t dare risk his lover’s censure again. If his master became too annoyed, he might not take Dallas home with him. Dallas would do anything to prevent that from happening. The temptation to lay his head on his master’s knee for petting had Dallas instinctively leaning towards the stern man before he caught himself.
A short whine almost worked its way up his throat. Dallas ruthlessly tamped it down, as he did with all his other canine urges. He couldn’t betray his true nature—not if he planned on remaining Laurence’s submissive.
The Doms continued their discussions on politics and business but their words held no interest for Dallas. He saved all his attention for his master. Peering through his lashes, he admired the firm line of his lover’s chin, the lush shape of Laurence’s mouth and the slight five o’clock shadow growing on his lean cheeks. Dallas longed to lick at the hairs, to lap their rough texture with his tongue. Nothing excited him like his master’s skin, scent, or seed.
“Dallas, fetch me a drink,” Master Laurence commanded. A brief stroke across Dallas’ head conveyed the ‘please’ his master would never say before the other men at the table.
Without a word, Dallas rose gracefully to his feet and walked over to the bar. He’d practiced each movement until he could go from knees to standing in one smooth motion.
“Scotch on the rocks,” he told the bartender, Eric. The flirtatious man had started working at Club Silence soon after Dallas had first visited the place with his master nine months ago. Although the gorgeous bartender radiated sex appeal, Dallas never responded to any of his advances. It would kill Dallas to cause his master even a moment of distress.
The bartender blatantly admired Dallas for a moment before handing over the scotch. “You ever get tired of your master, you come and see me, beautiful. I’ve got all kinds of things I can show you.” The bartender let his desire show in his hot, dark gaze. “Here’s a bottle of water for you. I don’t know if you can ask for a drink tonight, but I thought you might be thirsty.”
Laurence’s rules changed according to his mood. Some nights Dallas could ask for something to drink and other nights his master made Dallas go without until they had finished their scene. Master Laurence hadn’t explicitly said that Dallas couldn’t have a drink, so he accepted the bottle held out to him. Laurence would tell him if he wanted Dallas to hold off on consuming liquids.
“Thanks.” Dallas allowed a small smile to cross his lips at the bartender’s consideration. Even though Eric always propositioned Dallas, he never crossed the line by touching him. Eric knew the rules and wouldn’t break them even though he flirted shamelessly with everyone who walked by.
Returning to the table, Dallas set the glass of scotch by his master’s left hand before retaking his position on the floor beside Laurence’s chair. With a quick glance at his master, he waited for the nod before quietly opening his bottle of water. Still feeling Laurence’s eyes on him, he took a long sip, trying not to move restlessly beneath his master’s gaze.