Feral King (The Dominant Bastard Book 1)

by Sparrow Beckett

  “Between his first family abandoning him, and our mom dying, he just can’t get over this idea that he was meant to be alone. It’s turning into a self-fulfilling prophecy. Even when we were little kids he never trusted I wouldn’t leave him. He’d be such a dick trying to push me away and prove he was right. It’s exactly what he’s doing now.” She heard a loud bang and Church grumbled something under his breath. “Do you have any idea how fucking frustrating loving someone like that is? I wasn’t the one who betrayed him, but I get to reap what they sowed. Fucking asshats.”

  “Does anyone know why his parents abandoned him?”

  “His first parents,” Church corrected. “My mom was his real mom, and then Sutton. I don’t know what we would have done without her. That woman – I mean, I know she’s paid for her trouble, but who would agree to take over parenting two teenage boys when they’re in the middle of grieving? No amount of money could have made her love us like she does. At that age we needed someone who gave a damn even more than we needed someone to take care of us.” His voice was thick with emotion, and she felt her heart breaking for them all over again.

  “It just makes me so mad that he’s writing me off. I’ve been with him for twenty-four years. Why doesn’t he trust me?” He snorted. “I know why, but it doesn’t make it any easier. But how can I fix that? I wanted to go look for the Leducs. Rodrigo and I were going to go, but Severin threw a fit and we backed off. I think he’s afraid to find out the truth.”

  “Yeah. That’s what Rodrigo said to him the other day.” She thought about the forms Rodrigo had brought over for Severin to sign. Hopefully it would give him some closure, if it didn’t give him peace.

  Would Church know who Loïc Leduc was? Finding out had seemed important to Severin, but if he and Rodrigo didn’t know, chances were Church wouldn’t either. And as much as Church was on Severin’s side, she didn’t want to talk loosely about Severin’s legal affairs, and yet felt bad that Severin had pushed him completely out of the loop.

  “Anyway, I have to go help Ilse. Thanks for letting me vent, Minnow. Kick my brother for me, okay? Just in the shin. Tell him he’s an ass.”

  “I like you, Church, but have you seen the man? Kicking him seems like a bad idea.”

  “Nah. He’s a pussycat.”

  They both laughed.

  “Call anytime. If he won’t talk to you, I will. This place is making me stir crazy.”

  “Yeah. You have to find some hobbies that send you into town regularly. If you don’t, civilization will seem unnaturally loud and busy in no time. You can’t help him adapt if you let yourself become a hermit too.”

  “Point taken.”

  “Make it so.”

  “Aye-aye, Captain.”

  “Oooh...I knew I liked you.”

  They hung up, and Minnow went looking for Severin again. No luck.

  She had a quiet dinner, putting aside a plate for him. How long before she should start to worry?

  With Sutton coming home tomorrow, she’d sort of expected to spend the evening together fooling around, or at least being sexily and pointedly ignored, but maybe Sutton’s imminent return didn’t mean much to him. As much as she was excited to have the woman back – it got lonely at the house sometimes when Severin was in a solitary mood – she was also going to miss the lack of privacy for the relationship she and Severin seemed to be starting.

  At eleven she put on her flannel pajamas and walked down to the car garage. Although she’d looked for him there earlier, and none of the cars seemed to be gone, she couldn’t remember if she’d counted the bikes. She flipped on the lights and counted. All accounted for, and the garage didn’t even smell faintly like exhaust.

  Where the hell was he? Did someone pick him up to take him out somewhere? Had he gone out walking and broken his leg? Had he gone swimming in the lake and frozen?

  Alone, in an old silent mansion, in the middle of nowhere, she suddenly didn’t feel so safe. She lay in bed for a few minutes. There was a loud bang somewhere in the house, and she sat bolt upright again. Severin? Or was it a serial killer?

  Fearful, she tiptoed through the entire house, finding no sign of what could have made the noise, scaring herself more with each passing minute, imagining dangerous criminals lying in wait for her.

  Maybe Severin was back at the forge by now. What was better? Getting killed alone in the house, or getting killed alone in the yard? At least in the yard maybe Severin would find her before she bled out.

  Why didn’t she have his fucking cell number? Because the man never went anywhere, that’s why! She should have asked Church for the number when he’d called, but she hadn’t wanted to admit she didn’t have it.

  Fine. She’d go looking for him yet again. She pulled on her jacket and boots, grabbed a flashlight, and crept through the barely lit house, feeling the chill before she even got to the door. Usually Severin laid fires in the fireplaces in the rooms they were using at night because he preferred them over the electric heaters, so she had no idea where the controls were, or if she was even allowed to touch them. She was afraid to set up a fire herself in case she did it wrong and burned the house to the ground.

  At the main door to the back of the grounds she hesitated. She squinted into the darkness, expecting a creepily masked man or a dead body to appear any minute. Adrenaline coursed through her, and she had the urge to run back up to her room and hide in the back of the closet until morning. The house was so big no one would think to look for her in there, right?

  A light flickered in the yard, but it was off to the far right of the forge, mostly concealed by trees. Her heart leaped. But then, maybe it wasn’t Severin. Maybe it was her imagination. Maybe there was a brush fire.

  Maybe he was regularly abducted by UFOs.

  That would explain a lot.

  Fuck. She wasn’t leaving the house unarmed. She went back to the kitchen and grabbed a butcher knife, half afraid she’d panic and fall on the stupid thing, but carrying the whole knife block with her was an even dumber idea. She stared at the knife for a few minutes, imagined having it grabbed out of her hand and used on her, and put it away. Besides, if she nicked the blade, Sutton would use it to skin her alive.

  Holding her breath, she opened the door and slipped outside, her heart hammering so loudly in her ears she couldn’t hear anything else. She paused, waiting for her eyes to adjust, and turned on the flashlight before breathing again.

  The grounds were silent other than the sound of wind in the branches. The chill seeped through the fabric of her pajamas, numbing her legs as she moved toward the flickering light. She passed the pool area and kept going, dry grass crunching under the soles of her boots no matter how quietly she tried to move. Her heartbeat tripped over itself as she neared the edge of the trees and attempted to peer around their obscuring wall. Fire crackled, and the scent of wood smoke drifted to her on the breeze.

  “What are you doing?” a deep voice boomed from behind her.

  Minnow shrieked. Her flashlight tumbled out of her fingers and she ran like hell.

  Footsteps followed, just as fast, but somehow quiet compared to the pounding of her feet. Fear made her scream again, and she cut a circle around the forge and headed back toward the house, dodging around dark shapes on the ground. Hands snatched at her clothes. So close! She was almost at the house. She wanted a locked door, a knife, something!

  She stumbled, like she’d dreaded she would, and he was on her – arm wrapped around her waist. Forgetting every self-defense course she’d ever taken, she wriggled and bit and scratched, but he took her down to the ground anyway, crushing her belly down on the frigid lawn. He covered her with his body, pinning her there, catching her flailing hands and trapping them against the ground.

  Hot breath in her ear. The rapid thud of his heart against her back.

  She bucked and shrieked, then whimpered when she realized she was completely at his mercy. Hips ground against her ass, along with an all too apparent hard-on.

>   “You shouldn’t spy on me, Miss Korsgaard,” Severin whispered harshly in her ear.

  Oh fuck.

  Oh God.

  She sagged in relief.

  “You scared the crap out of me!” She struggled to shift him off of her, but he didn’t budge.

  “You scared yourself.”

  “You chased me!”

  “You came out here wanting to be chased,” he accused. “You’ve seen horror movies. You know how this works. Pretty girl goes snooping around where she doesn’t belong. Big man with a knife chases her.”

  “You have a knife?”

  “I live outside. I always have a fucking knife.”

  She shuddered, and he snorted.

  “For fuck’s sake, Miss Korsgaard – does anything not turn you on?”

  She laughed as the rush of endorphins and physical contact worked their evil magic.

  “With you? I don’t know, and that scares me.”

  He groaned and thrust against her ass. She arched into it, and he shifted just enough to swat her bottom. The sting, along with the rest of it, made her wish he’d yank down her pajama pants and fuck her.

  Instead, he got off of her and picked her up, throwing her over his shoulder and walking through the night. In the circle of firelight he sat, then maneuvered her belly down over his lap, as if she weighed no more than a doll.

  “You know I like my privacy, Miss Korsgaard. You shouldn’t have come out here.” He ran a hand over the back of her pants. “You’re wearing flannel pajamas? Are you a child?”

  “It’s cold in the house!” she complained. “Some big jerk left me alone to freeze all day.”

  “I figured you could use some time alone too,” he grumbled. “Even if you didn’t, you have no right to spy.”

  He yanked down the back of her pants, and she shivered as the cool air caressed her bared flesh.

  “Hey! I was worried all day, then by bedtime I was scared.”

  “Worried? Scared?”

  “Well – I didn’t know if you were angry at me,” she explained. He never seemed to understand other people had feelings. “Then when you were gone so long I was afraid something might have happened to you.” When he said nothing, she went on. “Then tonight I heard a noise in the house and I was afraid there was a prowler.”

  “A prowler?” He made a sound of amusement. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard anyone use that word in real life. If you’re going to be using words like prowler you need to start sleeping with curlers in your hair.”

  “I was worried about you, and you don’t even care!” She swatted his calf in semi-mock annoyance, and the sound of irritation that came out of him made her insides twist into a knot. Self-preservation made her try to slide off his lap, but he held her in place.

  “Sometimes I need to be alone. You can’t follow me around all the time.”

  “It’s my job to follow you around.”

  “Yeah. Your job.” His laugh was humorless. “Don’t fucking spy on me, Miss Korsgaard.” The first swat landed hard, stinging her ass, and rattling her teeth. The next several were just as intense. Punishment. Not a joke. Not kink.

  Damn it. Why was that hot?

  He held her still, his big rough hand coming down on her ass again and again – smack, smack, smack. She’d thought she was pretty tough, but after several minutes of hard, fast spanks the fire in the firepit was nothing compared to the fire in her ass cheeks. She began to yelp in protest. When she tried to block with her hands, he caught both wrists at her lower back and held them there with one hand. Reflexively, she kicked out, and the next spank was even harder, jarring.

  There was no way to get away from him – not with the disparity in their strength – and there was no way she was going to safeword something as minor as a spanking. He seemed to need it, because the longer it went on the less it seemed to be about her.

  She sank into it, accepting the pain even though it went past the point of being something she could physically enjoy. Fuck, he was huge, and he had a hard fucking hand. It hurt, but she took it for him, pushing her safeword down when it threatened to spill out. She stared at the ground as it blurred in her teary gaze, wondering what had triggered his mood. It was hard to comfort a man who hated being touched.

  Once it had gone on far too long, he slowed, and eventually stopped, resting his hand on her burning, throbbing ass. She could hear him struggle to slow his breathing. After all the worry of the day, she was glad just to be with him. Glad to have given him what he needed. Maybe she’d needed it too, to reconnect after he’d given her to Rodrigo last night.

  Sooner than she wanted to move, he set her on her feet. She was shaky, but he grabbed her hips and turned her ass toward the firelight. The warmth hurt. He inspected his handiwork, then grunted, but his expression didn’t give her any clue as to what he was thinking behind those hooded eyes of his. When he brushed his mouth along the damage he’d done, the kindle of arousal he stoked in her boneless exhaustion made her knees tremble. His mouth was hot and stung, but it also tickled and felt sexy, and his tongue and teeth explored bits of her he’d left undamaged. Her nipples were so hard they throbbed in time with her ass. Her pussy ached worse than the spanking had. When he stopped, her moan of distress gave her away.

  “Get to bed, Miss Korsgaard. It’s late.”

  She turned to face him. In the firelight his expression had already grown distant.

  “You’re not serious. You don’t want...”

  “No.” For a man who didn’t want, his dick seemed to heartily disagree.

  “You don’t have to talk. I could just –”

  “Do men never tell you no?”

  “Never before you. I’m not in the habit of offering men blowjobs if I’m not pretty sure they’re interested.” She decided not to gesture at his cock which, right then, had to be composing a note to the complaints department of Severin’s twisted mind.

  Whatever. Far be it from her to throw herself at a man who didn’t want her. Okay, well with Severin that was a complete lie, but damn he was worth fighting for. It helped that she didn’t really believe he was disinterested. If she’d had an ego, the man would have shattered it the first day.

  Gingerly, she drew up her PJ bottoms, making sure not to let the elasticized waist drag over her skin. Even so, the drape of the fabric touching her, hurt.

  “Anyway...goodnight, Mister Leduc,” she said, trying to appear calm even though the itch of her drying tears probably meant her makeup was tracked down her face. “What do you want me to make for dinner tomorrow?”

  “Whatever you feel like making.”

  “Don’t you want me to make something special to welcome Sutton back?”

  “She’s not coming.”

  Her brows shot upward. “But – I thought she said tomorrow.”

  “She did. She changed her mind. The work at her sister’s is taking longer than she thought.” His expression was bleak. It had to be hard with Sutton leaving so soon after Church.

  “She’s coming back soon though?”

  “Another week, she said.”

  Minnow shrugged. “A week is okay. We’re okay here alone another week.”

  He bared his teeth, but it wasn’t really a smile. “Go to bed.”

  All of his body language said this was what had him riled. A week, though? What was wrong with one more week? Sutton had been around for the past fifteen or so years – why was he begrudging her a bit of extra vacation? Was he that much of a control freak?

  Duh. Yeah. He had every reason to be, though, after what life had done to him.

  “Sutton will come back, Mister Leduc.”

  “She said she would.” His tone was skeptical.

  “Why wouldn’t she? She loves you. You’re her family.”

  “I’m not. Not really.” He tossed a stick into the fire pit.

  “She’s coming back.”

  He glared. “They don’t come back, Minnow. They never do.”

  “Stop it. You’
re being ridiculous.”

  “You’re being naïve.”

  “But –”

  He got to his feet and stalked off into the night. She waited for him to come back, but the bench was too hard to sit on, tender as she was.

  When the fire had burned down to embers, she doused them with the bucket of water that sat nearby. She was frozen and literally falling asleep on her feet. Giving up, she trudged back to the house, not sure if she should be angry or sad – wishing she could track down his first parents and get in line to smack them.

  Chapter Ten

  Curled on her side, with her legs pulled up, the girl was a tiny bump under the covers in her big bed. One hand was curled in front of her mouth. In the pale morning light her face was young and vulnerable, and it made him feel things he didn’t like. She was out here alone with him for another week, and he couldn’t be trusted with that kind of responsibility. Not when his feelings for her sometimes turned dark.

  Trusting himself alone with her out here was too much temptation for one sadist to handle. Well – maybe Rodrigo could trust himself, but Severin was new at having to control himself around a willing woman who apparently rarely if ever used her safeword. He’d never been good at controlling himself, and he didn’t know if he could pass this test.

  Only a few more days until Sutton came home. Then they’d have a chaperone at least. He was still talking to her every day, but her absence made him uneasy. The second delay in her coming back had been less unexpected than the first, but he hated it all the same. Too much could go wrong with her out there by herself. And her sister wasn’t getting any younger. What if she decided to stay indefinitely? Her sister was probably easier to take care of than he was, and better company. And she was Sutton’s actual, real family.

  Sutton had enough money stashed away to retire anytime she pleased – to buy houses and cars and a new start. He was a grown man. It wasn’t like he needed a nanny anymore.