Tragic King (The Dominant Bastard Duology Book 2)

by Sparrow Beckett

  Rodrigo’s nephew, Santiago, watched the ring bear with avid interest as he stood, half in the aisle, alternately barking and rubbing a handful of mauled Cheerios against his cheek. Jorge, the baby, fussed as Dax jiggled him in his arms, so Mayte took him, instantly getting a smear of baby drool down the front of her blue silk bridesmaid dress. Ilse’s dress was still relatively tidy looking, but she was frowning in bemusement at Scarlet, whom no one had been able to dissuade from the bear costume. Her attitude really made her outfit – even more than the ears.

  By the time Minnow reached the front, the wedding was more circus than romance. She could feel Talia’s bright, brittle smile – a woman who knew her best efforts had been wasted, but was being paid too well to complain.

  When Minnow reached Rodrigo, he was grinning so hard she started to giggle, then couldn’t seem to stop. He grabbed her hand with all the finesse of an eager child, and turned toward the officiant.

  The woman peered over Minnow’s shoulder at the crowd, her brow puckered.

  Hope rising, Minnow turned to see what she was looking at, but it was only Sage trying to help Scarlet into a chair.

  “Ready?” the officiant whispered.

  Minnow took one last look around at their assembled family, then nodded to the woman. “Ready.”

  “Wait!” Sage shouted.

  The officiant stopped and looked at the girl.

  Minnow turned. “Yes, Sage?”

  “I...I have a surprise for you.”

  “A surprise?” Minnow asked.

  “Not now,” Ilse whispered to her eldest daughter, making a shooing motion. “You can give it to them later. Just sit.”

  “This can’t wait!”

  “It doesn’t have to wait,” Minnow urged. It wasn’t like they were on a strict timeline.

  Sage popped up out of her chair and bolted back the way they’d come, around the trees toward the house. Minnow could hear her hollering, and then she was running back. She took her spot beside Scarlet and held up a finger for Minnow to wait. Everyone watched her, confused.

  Motion caught Minnow’s eye.

  And then there he was.

  Severin stood just outside of the circle of guests, having materialized out of nowhere. Wild-eyed and intense. Ready to fight or bolt. A feral thing being intruded on by civilization.

  “I picked his clothes,” Sage whispered.

  In old jeans and a threadbare black T-shirt, hair loose down his back, he looked like he was about to pillage the festivities rather than participate.

  Straightening his shoulders, his lips drew back in a mocking smile, both menacing and mean.

  Rodrigo moved between Minnow and Severin, cutting him off from her as he approached. Someone gasped. Probably Talia, the poor woman.

  “What do you want, Leduc?” Rodrigo asked, belligerent, as if he was ready to fight him for her.

  Minnow’s heart was hammering at her ribs, and she felt a bit faint.

  He cocked his head, trying to stare Rodrigo down, but Ro wasn’t having it. “You know what I want.”

  “I do know what you want, you stubborn asshat, but do you?”

  He eyed Rodrigo, then Minnow, his cold blue eyes grim. “All three of you,” he said quietly. “If you’ll have me.”

  A sob broke from Minnow’s throat before she could stifle it. Time slowed as Rodrigo nodded and retreated a step, getting out of his way.

  Had she heard him right, though?

  The officiant was looking over Severin’s shoulder, as though maybe a ringmaster might show up at any moment.

  “Three?” Rodrigo’s brother, Fidel, asked someone.

  “Oh my god!” Mayte shrieked.

  Church clapped his hands together loudly and began to laugh, his big voice booming through the clearing.

  Rodrigo’s mother jumped up out of her seat, saying something in enthusiastic Spanish, then hugged Minnow so long Ro had to pry her off and usher her back to her seat.

  When the commotion had calmed, the three of them stood in a line in front of the officiant, Severin on Minnow’s left, and Rodrigo on her right. They rested their linked hands on her back and she stood there, crying, not processing half of what the officiant was saying. None of that mattered anyway. Severin had chosen them.

  For now.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Rodrigo stepped out of the night and into the house. He dropped his bag just inside the door, fumbling for the foyer light switch.

  Paranoia had convinced him to take an earlier flight. It was late, but the house’s silence felt full rather than empty.

  Not yet, then. Severin would have texted him if anything had happened. He hoped.

  It had been getting harder and harder to leave town during the months since he’d become a married man. This trip, being alone in Europe, had been a special kind of torture, especially with the worry that Minnow might have the baby while he was gone. He’d called home so often Severin had given him shit for not trusting him to take care of her.

  He moved into the hallway.

  An arm snaked around his neck and jerked him back onto his heels. He struggled to breathe and tried to pry the arm away in a moment of panic.

  “Scared, husband?” Severin growled in his ear. The spike of fear turned into sexual adrenaline, and his dick sprang awake.

  “You...surprised me.” Coincidence, or had he waited up for him? The idea that his husband waited up for him filled him with warmth.

  The arm tightened and Severin grunted in annoyance.

  “You surprised me, Master,” Rodrigo gasped out.

  Severin let him go so fast he stumbled. “Come with me.”

  He led Rodrigo into his study then took a seat in one of the club chairs, lounging there with such masculine self-assurance Ro had to force himself not to sigh aloud.

  “Take off that fucking suit, you self-important little fuck.”

  Rodrigo groaned, his cock already throbbing for relief. Severin being Severin was always a turn-on.

  He loosened his tie, stripped off his suit jacket then fumbled to unbutton his shirt. As he worked, Severin rose and came to him, then ran a rough hand through his hair, mussing it.

  He walked around Rodrigo as though inspecting him. “You come home after being on these fucking trips and you’re all full of yourself, with your A-type dominant shit. Every fucking time I have to take you down a peg.”

  His guts clenched at Severin’s words. He was never sure what made Sev get like this when he got home from business trips. As if being away would make Ro forget his place? Like he could see Severin without remembering?

  “Those too,” Severin said when he was down to his underwear. “I see your dick is being presumptuous tonight.”

  “I’m sorry, Master,” he said quietly. There was no point in trying to make excuses, because they just got him punished harder.

  “What exactly is turning you on?” Severin asked. “And don’t say me.”

  He stripped out of his underwear and laid them aside. “Well, I haven’t had sex in days, and my dominant ambushed me as soon as I got home. Wishful thinking?”

  Severin swept his clothing off the coffee table and onto the floor, then walked over them on the way to his desk. The man’s disdain for Ro’s attire seemed to know no bounds, even though he’d acknowledged more than once that clothes were a tool of Rodrigo’s trade.

  From the top drawer of his desk, Severin withdrew the wooden box where he kept Rodrigo’s metal cuff when he was traveling.

  “I’m getting tired of you walking around Europe unmarked.”

  “I would never stray from you or from Minnow. My ring is another kind of collar, Master.”

  “We all wear the same rings. They don’t count as collars. They’re not good enough for me.” He crooked a finger at Ro, who went to him, like a good boy. When Severin held out a hand for his wrist, he complied.

  The cuff settled into place and he realized that having it on made tension he’d been unaware of carrying abate. There was s
omething about being claimed by this man that was immensely satisfying. Although he’d fantasized about Severin for years, he’d never realized how deeply Severin could make him feel his submission. He hadn’t realized how intrinsic it was – as though he’d shown Ro a latent part of his personality far more profound than he’d ever imagined.

  “You didn’t like it being off any more than I did,” Severin observed.

  “No, Master.”

  Severin went to a nearby table and fiddled around with something.

  “Sit on the edge of my desk,” he called over his shoulder.

  Rodrigo did so, but felt vulnerable and childish with his feet dangling. The smooth wood under his bare ass felt strange. He was no nudist.

  What the hell was he up to? The anticipation was the worst and best part. Sometimes Severin stripped him naked just to make him uncomfortable. Sometimes he hurt him. Sometimes he demanded pleasure.

  He came back with leather wrist and ankle cuffs, and buckled them on Rodrigo without a word. His dick was so painfully stiff it dripped pre-come. Of course the bastard noticed, dragging a finger through the slippery mess he was making.

  Severin snorted in derision, and heat flooded Rodrigo’s neck and face. Leave it to Severin to mock him for being aroused by what he was doing to him – and yet every small humiliation was a prize. He treated Ro the same way he treated Minnow. There was no favoritism.

  “Open.” He held his finger up in front of Rodrigo’s mouth, and he groaned reluctantly, but did as he was told. Severin only did it because Rodrigo didn’t like it, and Ro knew that until he could get that reaction under control, he’d continue to use it against him. He gladly went down on Severin and Minnow, but tasting himself was a vanilla taboo he’d never gotten past for some reason, even though he didn’t hesitate to make Minnow do the same thing when he was in charge.

  Sucking Severin’s finger clean ended with them both breathing raggedly.

  “Quit trying to distract me, puppy.” He slapped Rodrigo’s face hard enough to sting, and Ro’s hips thrust forward in frustration.

  With short, efficient movements, Severin laid him back on the desk then bound him to it spread-eagled. He could feel his cock straining for stimulation, only to slap back against his stomach.

  What was the plan?

  Pleasure? Torture? Both?

  The dominant part of Rodrigo’s mind was always trying to guess what Severin had premeditated for him during these moments, but their brains worked very differently.

  He raised a brow when Severin approached with a razor. “What are you doing?”

  Severin sighed then went back into his desk drawer.

  “Marking you.” He tied a piece of fabric around Rodrigo’s eyes.

  Panic tried to set in, but he forced himself to breathe. He’d never been blindfolded, and the sensation was unsettling, especially knowing pain was coming and not knowing what type or where.

  Something heavy spread on his chest, warm, comforting.

  “Shh. I’m going to hurt you, but it won’t be unbearable. We’ve done worse to Minnow.”

  There was the pull of the razor on his thigh, in a very similar area to where they’d branded their girl. His legs weren’t as heavily tattooed as his chest, back and arms.

  Something cold and wet slicked over the spot, and he felt the familiar sting.

  “You’re lucky I decided to do this, instead. Your buddy Malachi convinced me not to give you a Prince Albert myself. Apparently he thought a YouTube video was insufficient training.”

  He fought his bonds in a moment of panic. “Fuck, what’s my safeword?”

  “If you can’t remember that’s your problem.” Severin laughed unkindly. “Besides, I said I wasn’t giving you a Prince Albert, but if you really want something to freak out about, that can be arranged.”

  Rodrigo laughed nervously, hoping Sev was kidding but not really sure.

  He remembered doing Severin’s Prince Albert, though. He’d tried to mask his sharp inhalation when Rodrigo had touched him, and even the impersonal process of getting the piercing had made him hard. And fuck, Rodrigo had gotten so hard himself he almost couldn’t see straight. Afterward, he’d jerked off in the bathroom, then they’d gotten drunk together and talked all night.

  “Hold still,” Severin commanded. “If you start screaming I won’t hesitate to gag you. Minnow needs rest.”

  He wanted to ask how she was doing, had meant to check as soon as he’d walked in the door, but Severin had apparently made other plans.

  Listening for Severin tinkering with things near the fireplace, he forced himself to relax, muscle by muscle, against the oak. Struggling against his bonds wouldn’t do anything except exhaust him. Did he trust Severin or didn’t he?

  He waited for the sensations Minnow had described to him. The momentary jolt of pain. The burning hiss. He gritted his teeth, waiting.

  Something sharp jabbed his thigh. He grunted, the pain not the kind he’d been expecting. A series of shallow stabs in his thigh with intermittent pauses burned a path over his skin. Severin was giving him a poke tattoo? Great. The man couldn’t even draw a stick figure. He forced down a laugh, not wanting to piss off the man holding the needle.

  “One mocking word out of you and I’ll tattoo your dick next.”

  His cock twitched in response and he grimaced behind his blindfold.

  “You’re such a little slut, Rodrigo. I could do anything to you and it would turn you on.”

  Ro chuckled. With the blindfold, all of his attention was focused on the needle, Severin’s steadying hand on his leg, and his breath on Rodrigo’s skin. Something brushed his balls and he gasped in surprise but managed not to jerk.

  The poking stopped. Done already?

  “This hardly seems fair. What we did to Minnow was far more traumatizing.”

  “I’m not into pain like she is,” Rodrigo pointed out hopefully.

  “Oh, but I’m into your pain. I love that she enjoys being hurt, and I love that you don’t. It’s the best of both worlds.”

  He heard the snap of gloves – being removed? Something damp traced the seam of his lips and he opened his mouth. Severin chuckled quietly and then his tongue swept against Rodrigo’s in a teasing kiss, and was gone again. Not thinking, he tried to follow, only to be stopped by his bonds. A cold thing touched his nipple, pinched, pinched harder, and pain zinged downward, making his cock ache.

  “Fuck. That hurts.”

  “Does it?”

  He did the same to the other side. Motherfucking ow! What the hell was he using?

  The discomfort made him squirm, but then his balls were being fondled. A finger traced lower, stroking just under his balls, then sliding over his asshole, tickling, making the pain in his nipples somehow more sexual. Severin’s tongue teased the head of his cock. He wanted more – longing for the suction of his mouth, for the teasing fingers to push inside his ass. Lube or no lube, he didn’t fucking care. Achingly gentle touches fluttered over his balls and he groaned in frustration.

  “What do you want?”

  “Everything,” Rodrigo gasped. “Harder.”

  Severin tugged a little on his balls then pinched the skin. Harder. Pain flared there, white hot, making his teeth ache.

  He cried out and Severin’s hand slapped over his mouth, but the pain kept going for a long moment before ebbing to a vicious throb. Severin peeled his hand away from Rodrigo’s mouth, and he found himself whimpering, wishing Severin would put his hand back so he stopped sounding like such a wimp. A gentle finger traced its way around the clamp, making him shudder.

  “Please, Master. Take it off. It hurts too much.” God, was he whining? He half laughed at his pathetic lack of pain tolerance, but then Severin flicked the clamp and it wasn’t funny anymore. His hand was on Rodrigo’s mouth again.

  “Do you need a gag or are you going to be a good boy?”

  Fuck, the man knew how to use words to make his innards turn into a helpless puddle of lust. It was com
pletely unfair.

  When Severin drew his hand away again, he replied, “If that was the last clamp, I can be quiet, Master.”

  Severin’s hot mouth closed over the head of his cock. He sucked and the tension and need shot through his body, tightening every muscle from his neck to his heels. Rodrigo arched up to meet his suction, desperate for more, but Severin broke suction with a pop.

  “Mamaguevo,” Rodrigo grumbled.

  The clamp on his left nipple got flicked, and he hissed.

  “Watch your mouth or I’ll fill it with something.”

  Hmm. That could be either good or bad. A dick might be fun, but Severin filling his mouth with something like hot sauce or piss, really wasn’t his kink.

  There was the snap of gloves, the burn of liquid on the poke marks then the jabbing began again. Pain pulsed from nipples to balls to nipples, his cock tapping his stomach almost in time with his heartbeat, as Severin worked silently on his mark. The muscles in Rodrigo’s ass were tight, his body wanting to thrust up into nothing, but he tried to hold still.

  “He’s home!” Minnow’s voice came from across the room. “What on earth are you doing to him, Mister Leduc?”

  “Why aren’t you in bed, Miss?”

  “I’m guessing my kinky Spidey senses were tingling.”

  Severin grunted, and Ro heard the whisper of bare feet on stone as she approached.

  “You’re giving him a tattoo?” she sounded amused. “Why is he blindfolded?”

  “He’s nosy.”

  “And the clamps?”

  “I’m an asshole.”

  She snorted, but didn’t refute it. Soft fingers trailed along his stomach then up his chest.

  “Mister Leduc, may I kiss him?”

  “You may.”

  There was a pause and she made a sound of amusement then moved to stand above his head.

  “Welcome home, Rodrigo.” Her lips brushed against his, and when he parted his lips to let her deepen the kiss he realized she was upside down. He groaned at the sensation, and gave her access to his tongue, which she sucked and teased. “I missed you,” she whispered in his ear. “So did he.”