"Is that a challenge?" Bull asked as he lifted his head. He pushed a slick finger into Dorian, followed quickly by a second, because he doubted Dorian would tolerate a lot of delay at this rate. There was a line the mage crossed, always - the very end of his patience, was teasing became nearly offensive.

Bull thought it was cute. But he wouldn't push Dorian tonight. He moved his head to let Dorian's legs slide off his horns - first one, then the other - careful, always careful of the tips. They weren't sharp per se, but they could scrape, and they could gore.

"You'll be a mess no matter what," he rumbled.