Tragic King (The Dominant Bastard Duology Book 2)

by Sparrow Beckett

  Severin blew out a breath that tickled her face, and vaguely she wondered if his lips would still taste like her tears.

  “If something happens to me, you’ll take care of her, right?”

  “Oh, for fuck’s sake. You honestly need to ask?”

  “You’d marry her if something happened to me.” He traced his fingertip over her lips and she latched on, sucking.

  “If you hadn’t found her first...”

  “I know.”

  Rodrigo cleared his throat. “We both love you, Sev. Our relationship wouldn’t be the same without you in it.”

  “She’d be less bratty if you didn’t submit to me.” Severin pulled his finger from her mouth and kissed her temple, the bridge of her nose, her eyelid. He was always affectionate after he’d put her through the wringer, now. She basked like a cat when he was this warm with her.

  “So? I like her bad.”

  This conversation, though – she didn’t like it. She grabbed onto a lock of dark hair that had escaped Severin’s braid and clung to it. How could he be having such a serious talk about her when she was made out of jelly and couldn’t string words together? She rubbed the lock of his hair against her lips, deciding to let them talk and save her objections for later.

  “But if something happens to me?” Severin prompted impatiently.

  Rodrigo’s arm tightened against her belly. “I’d love her for both of us.”

  *

  A wild laugh claimed Minnow as they took the corner. Several teenagers smoking cigarettes on the sidewalk outside a small high school stared in open-mouthed awe as the three motorcycles passed.

  On Severin’s absurdly loud Frankenbikes, they probably looked dangerous. Yeah, dangerous. Two rich guys and a...whatever she was. Not exactly biker material. Well – maybe Severin could pass. Rodrigo still looked debonair, even in old jeans, scuffed boots, and a beat-up leather jacket. The clothes were his and broken in through use, but he still gave the impression he was on his way to a photo shoot for a fitness and fashion magazine.

  Severin and Rodrigo were at the complete opposite ends of the Types of Hot Guy Spectrum, and she was theirs. Lucky, lucky girl.

  Loïc followed along behind them in an SUV, part of things, yet separate. He wasn’t a motorcycle kind of guy, but was more than happy to go to the metal show and drive them home afterward.

  The sun was warm through her jacket. Severin and Rodrigo had insisted she needed her own stuff – a leather jacket, a fancy helmet – and had spent far too much time checking safety ratings and making her try things on. Some of their ogling had actually seemed like legit concern, but she’d gotten the impression they’d had far too much fun playing dress-up with her, especially since they’d kept touching her and eventually stripped her down and used her hard.

  The roar of the engine made the bike vibrate between her legs, and the excitement of pursuing Severin down the highway while Rodrigo chased her kept Minnow’s pulse rate high. The new green of spring foliage zipped past. She hadn’t felt so alive and carefree since she was a child. This family – her new family – loved and accepted her, even if they argued sometimes, and even if keeping two men satisfied in bed was exhausting.

  They took care of her.

  The parking lot was already full when they arrived, but they followed the laneways to the back of the fairgrounds. Severin showed a tag to security that let them drive backstage, unimpeded. They parked in the VIP section and left their jackets in the SUV with Loïc before making their way to the trailers and tour buses. A guard admitted them to where the bands were hanging out pre-show. The traveling dressing rooms were a lot less fancy than she would have expected, considering the number of fans gathered in the field they’d driven past.

  It was hard to say which band was more popular – the Kink Monsters, or Fitte, but Rodrigo had explained the day before that neither band cared. Odd that Severin and Rodrigo knew famous people, considering what a private and secluded existence they normally lived.

  Three tattooed men with long black hair, were sprawled on couches, drinking beer. Even dressed in jeans and T-shirts they had a presence about them – a power that reminded her of Severin – dark, dangerous. About the same age too. They were watching three leather-clad people toy with a girl dressed in a flouncy white eyelet dress. One of the men had a hand up her skirt while the other two groped her breasts.

  “Please, Master,” the girl in white was begging. “Please, Winter...Mack?” The three in leather laughed low, but at least one of them – a woman with white blond hair – took pity and kissed her tenderly for a moment before the torment resumed.

  “You sing better horny, Saya,” the woman said, as though it was a reminder. “And they love it even more if you cry.”

  Watching, and yet trying not to watch, Minnow went from horny to needy in the span of a minute.

  “Motherfucking yesss.” One of the men drinking beer saluted Severin with a bottle as soon as he noticed him. “Severin, my friend, you have made my fucking day. Rodrigo, how’s it hanging?”

  “Left.”

  “Like I haven’t made it my life’s work to know.” Loke winked and waved them in.

  Rodrigo pointed to the other two men for Minnow’s benefit. “Geir, Rune. This is Minnow.”

  If Minnow had thought the foursome on the other couch would be startled and stop because there was company, she would have been wrong. Instead, the dark-haired man whispered something to the girl in white about how there were strangers watching now, and she whimpered helplessly, her eyes glassing over as he cruelly gripped her hair and forced her to look at Severin, Rodrigo, and Minnow.

  “Minnow isn’t easily shocked, I hope?” Loke asked, eyeing her pointedly then flicking a finger at the four people making out. His voice was deep and rasping, amused, with inflections that sounded foreign.

  “Hardly,” Severin replied, as Rodrigo snorted.

  “Good. We won’t have to move to the other trailer.” His gaze fell to the collar around Minnow’s neck and he inclined his head, then gestured them to a free couch. “The Kink Monsters have entertaining pre-show rituals, which is the only reason we tour with them.”

  “And here I thought it was because we shared artistic vision.” The big blond in leather smirked. He held the innocent-looking girl’s throat while the young woman with long white hair used her teeth to make her whimper.

  “That too,” Loke conceded.

  The girl’s gasps and begging filled the room with explosive sexual tension, although the long-haired men in jeans and T-shirts looked calm, and Severin and Rodrigo didn’t bat an eye.

  Severin sat and pulled Minnow into his lap. Rodrigo settled onto the couch beside them. They talked about the bikes for a few minutes, drinking beer, then Loke handed an envelope to Severin. He slid Minnow onto Rodrigo’s lap then put the envelope in his inside jacket pocket.

  “Thanks for bringing them out,” Loke said, pushing his long hair back. “We’ll be commissioning more soon.”

  “More?” Rodrigo laughed. “You’re going to have to grow extra asses.”

  Rune’s laugh rumbled. “Loke is already a huge ass.”

  “That’s my dick you’re thinking of.”

  “True. You know I dream about your dick ever since that night in Prague.”

  “Dreams and nightmares are entirely different,” Geir said with a shudder then winked at Minnow.

  Other than the girl in white and Minnow, everyone in the trailer laughed. She felt as if she’d stumbled into metalhead kinkster Narnia.

  “You’re staying for the show?” Rune asked.

  “Of course.” Severin listened to both bands all the time while he worked. It wasn’t music she would have chosen before they’d met, but it was amazing how getting fucked by a dirty, sweaty man to a certain kind of music soon made the whole genre seem fiercely sexual.

  The girl in white got pushed to the floor, and she laid her head on the blond man’s knee. Her three tormentors spoke to her quietly as they petted
her, urging her to calm down as she squirmed and wept and pleaded for an orgasm.

  Minnow tried to slide off of Rodrigo’s lap onto a free bit of couch, but he wrapped an arm around her waist and held her in place, facing away from him.

  “I like you in this position,” Rodrigo whispered in her ear, putting a hand around her throat so she couldn’t jerk her head away. “I can feel how hot your pussy is even through your jeans.” She wriggled, trying to slide off his lap again, but only succeeded in finding his huge hard-on with her ass cheek. “You liked watching that poor girl suffer? Do you wish we’d do that to you here, in front of these strangers?”

  “No, Mr. Solis.” She shot a look at the men, who were still talking to Severin, but weren’t trying to hide the fact that they were also watching Rodrigo’s interaction with her.

  “Liar. The way you’re breathing is giving you away.”

  “I’m...really excited about the concert.”

  “Uh huh.”

  All of the attention in the trailer had moved to the two of them. Severin seemed amused.

  Rodrigo’s fingers brushed over the button of her jeans and her heart fluttered in apprehension. He wouldn’t, would he?

  He kissed her neck, then bit, the pleasure making her toes curl in her boots. She gave Severin a plaintive look, but he only watched with a heated gaze.

  “Who does she belong to?” Rune asked.

  “She’s mine,” Severin said casually. “So is he, now.”

  Rodrigo blew out a startled breath.

  “Told you that was going to happen. Pay up,” Rune murmured to Geir, holding out a hand. Sourly, Geir pulled a twenty from his pocket and handed it over to Rune.

  Rodrigo popped the button on her jeans just as a rap sounded at the door, interrupting whatever plans he’d had.

  “Damn,” the dark-haired guy in leather grumbled as he lurched to his feet and extended a hand to the woman with white hair. “Come on, Winter. Show’s over.”

  “The show was just starting,” Winter grumbled as he tugged her into his arms and kissed her. She bit his lip and he groaned.

  The tall blond man growled. “Oh, for fuck’s sake. Everyone out before we’re late for our own fucking show.”

  “Again?” Loke asked. “We could go on first if you need time to sort out your submissives, Ramsay.”

  “Fuck off,” Ramsay grumbled amiably. “Just remember, my friend: One is entertaining, two is a challenge, three is madness.”

  “I’d rather share one with these slutbags than have three of my own,” Loke replied. “Especially after watching yours plot against you.”

  Winter smirked. “So, am I madness today, Ramsay, or is it Mack’s turn?”

  “Don’t start, little bitch, or I’ll beat you onstage.”

  “Wouldn’t be the first time.”

  Ramsay scooped Saya up from the floor and dusted off her dress before carrying her out, followed by the other two.

  Severin rose too. He clasped forearms with all three men then Rodrigo did the same, rather than just shaking hands like normal people. Yeah, this was its own weird little world.

  “Leduc. A pleasure, as always. You really should come to Vegas sometime.”

  “Thanks, Loke. Rodrigo tells me your club is entertaining.”

  Rune shrugged. “Kinksters as far as the eye can see. A nice place to visit, but I wouldn’t want to live there. Oh wait. I do live there...with those two. Why do I live with assholes?”

  “You said you loved us,” Geir said with mock affront.

  “As soon as they leave I’ll show you just how much, baby.”

  The two of them were on the floor wrestling and laughing and swearing at each other before Minnow and the guys were all the way out the door.

  “Can’t bring them anywhere.” Loke sighed with affectionate exasperation. “And yet I bring them everywhere.”

  They took their leave and headed back to where they’d left Loïc. Minnow remembered to rebutton her jeans just as they got to the SUV.

  Loïc’s eyes were hazed slits as he watched her rebutton. “Why did I even wonder what was taking so long?” He got out of the SUV then crushed and tossed his empty can of beer.

  They slid into the keyed-up crowd near the stage. A moment later, columns of fire burst into the air with a deafening boom, lighting the dimming sky. The first hint of bass rolled up through her feet, growing to thrum through her body – carnal in a way a stereo couldn’t match.

  Lights flashed, red and bloody. Smoke trailed through the crowd, over them, transporting them into the Kink Monsters’ sexual hell. The screaming around them deafened, but couldn’t drown out the music pounding into them from the towering walls of speakers. Mack growled into the microphone, his voice twining with Saya’s whimpered pleas, her little girl voice eerie and out of place, and yet perfectly creepy. She recognized one of the first of their songs she’d learned the words to. The recorded version couldn’t compare to the energy of seeing them live.

  Severin, Rodrigo, and Loïc surrounded her like bodyguards, towering over her, keeping her from getting crushed by the seething mass of fans shouting lyrics. The lights briefly went down, and Severin turned her and grabbed her ass, pulling her against him and kissing her deeply, the movements of his tongue making her moan helplessly into his mouth. Rodrigo moved up behind her, and his mouth moved over her neck. Someone unbuttoned her jeans, but in the growing dark and the crush of people no one could see as a large hand slid down the front of her pants.

  Music and energy throbbed around them, as one of them worked his finger into her, stretching, stinging, her whimpers lost in the chaos. It withdrew and rubbed a circle around her clit, the roughness and angle making her guess it was Severin. Her earlier arousal had made her desperate, and she let it happen, rocking his hips into his caress and accepting what he gave her, feeling reckless in the surreal atmosphere of the concert.

  Severin, the smug bastard, smiled down at her as he worked her body with a mastery he never should have learned so fast. Rodrigo slid his hand up the front of her shirt then pinched a nipple hard through her bra. She mewled but the sound disappeared under the onslaught of drums. Pleasure coursed through her, the pressure bursting into a hard and arduous orgasm just as a fresh round of explosions burst into the sky. Her shaking legs tried to give out, but between Rodrigo grabbing her waist and Severin’s hand between her legs, they held her up.

  She clung to Severin’s shoulders, her mind spinning at what she’d just let them do – helpless to resist them even if it meant public humiliation. Or arrest. But there were no police officers nearby, and no security close enough to see. Two strangers watched with amused interest, but their attention shifted back to the stage just as she noticed them.

  At least they hadn’t had their phones out.

  She trembled between her dominants as aftershocks throbbed through her. A laugh escaped her, wild and exuberant, the sound swallowed by the music.

  Women like her didn’t get days like this – didn’t get a life like this – but she’d revel in this elation while their house of cards still stood.

  *

  Pearl had set all of her pictures to private.

  Minnow stared at the screen of her laptop. Her sister’s pretty face had a button next to it asking whether she wanted to add her as a friend. Pearl’s account had been Minnow’s last source of information about the family, and now it mostly appeared blank.

  She let the arrow hover over the button and thought about pressing it, but wasn’t sure whether it would hurt more to get a definite refusal rather than pretend there was some hope.

  “Do it.” Severin’s voice rumbled from behind her.

  She jumped, pressing a hand to her heart, which had already been hammering. “But what if she says no? What if she blocks me?”

  “Then you’ll have an answer, and you can move on.”

  “Maybe she’ll say yes, right?” she asked, knowing it was unlikely.

  “No.” The word would have seemed cruel i
f it hadn’t held an apology. “I won’t feed you pretty lies, Miss Korsgaard. I’ll never understand why they’d choose to write you off for being true to your nature. They raised you to be kind and forgiving, and yet they show neither of those traits with you or your grandfather.” He flicked a finger at the screen. “Do it and get it over with.”

  She nodded then hit the button.

  “Besides, let’s say they want to bury the hatchet, will they approve of your life now? Which of us will you bring home to meet your family and which one will you keep secret?” He snorted. “Which of us would let them be shitty to you while we were standing right there? It’s hard enough to stay out of it when I haven’t even met them.”

  True. Neither of them would allow her family to go back to treating her like an embarrassment. She could just imagine Severin losing his shit and telling her mother where to go five minutes into a visit.

  He sat next to her on the bed and the dip of the mattress tipped her over into his lap. He’d put jeans on after their shower, but his chest was still bare. All she’d managed to put on is a pair of panties.

  “Now, this I like.” One of his big palms groped her ass and he hummed in approval. “But why are you wearing clothes?”

  “Mister Leduc!” she murmured. “I thought you wanted me to braid your hair.”

  “No, you wanted me to let you braid my hair,” he teased.

  He let her up and she urged him into a chair. She drew his brush out of the top drawer of her dresser and moved in front of him, offering the set of small silver bells on the flat of her hand.

  “I love these.” He accepted the bells from her palm and spent far more time tugging on her nipple rings to attach them than was strictly necessary. When she was breathy and quietly moaning, he gestured for her to get on with things, as though she was the one who’d caused the delay.

  His hair was loose and damp and slid like cold silk in her hands. She brushed it, careful not to startle him, still amused at the fact that a man whose hair almost reached his waist had been using a comb before she’d come along, if he’d bothered with it at all. He could braid it himself, but she enjoyed doing it for him now that he allowed it. Being allowed to perform such an intimate task for him made her feel special to him. Important.