Feral King (The Dominant Bastard Book 1)

by Sparrow Beckett

  She shuddered, gazing up at him, fluttery feelings in her stomach that she seemed to have no control over. Lust – love? How was she supposed to interpret her visceral responses to him? Her feelings for him were far too complicated to sort out without a specialist developing some sort of graph or flow chart to explain it.

  One of his big hands came up and traced the collar he’d locked around her neck with a slow, mesmerizing sensuality that made her pussy twitch. She angled her hips, trying to rub herself against the firm leather seat to take the edge off the ache.

  “Am I in trouble?” she whispered.

  The interest in his gaze flared into desire. “Maybe later. I found that bin on the side of the road when I was on my way back from the metal supplier. Take care of it.” Without another word he walked out.

  Take care of it? He couldn’t have put the old bin out in the shed with the other garbage? And since when did start picking up garbage on the side of the highway?

  Confused, she moved to pick up the dirty container and move it outside where it would stop dripping on her clean floor. Inside was a matted old fur coat.

  She squealed in surprise when it moved.

  A dog?

  A little nose poked up, then another. Caterwauling began. Four sets of bright eyes. Four little beasts roly-poly tumbling over each other. They were wet and mud-splattered and shivering, and their legs were wobbly and seemed too short for their big round bellies.

  “Mister Leduc!” she called. Puppies? Where on earth did he get puppies? Where was their mother?

  He appeared in the doorway, frowning. “Is there a problem, Miss Korsgaard?”

  “What am I supposed to do with them?”

  He shrugged. “Someone dumped them on the side of the road in that bin. I didn’t think you’d want me to leave them for the coyotes.”

  “Don’t they need their mother?”

  “Well, she didn’t leave a note, so I guess they’re shit out of luck. Should I put them back where I found them?”

  She glared. “We need to bring them to a vet!”

  “There’s one coming. She’ll hand them off to animal control.”

  “No!” she cried, trying not to look at their little faces, but failing miserably. “If they go to the pound they might get put down!”

  She picked up the bin and carried it up toward the family wing, surprised at how heavy they were. Severin took the bin out of her hands when she got to the first landing.

  “What are you doing with them?” he asked suspiciously.

  “They need a warm bath. They’re cold and filthy. And what are they going to eat?”

  “I asked the vet to bring food for several ages of pups. I don’t know how old they are. I think they may be weaned, or close to it.”

  “How could someone be so fucking cruel?” she snapped, following him to the bathroom.

  “The world is an ugly place, Miss Korsgaard.”

  “Maybe Church will want one. And Rodrigo? Oh, maybe he’s gone too much.”

  “They’re mutts. No one is going to want them.”

  “That’s not true.” She peered into the bin as Severin put a bit of warm water in the bathtub. “Dogs don’t have to be purebred for people to want them.”

  “I wouldn’t know.”

  “You’ve never had a pet?”

  “No. The closest I’ve come to having a pet is you.” He tapped her collar.

  Knowing he was just trying to goad her, she ignored that. “Look at their little faces. Oh my god, they’re so cute!”

  “Miss Korsgaard,” he said, his tone mocking, “get your maternal instincts under control.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Mister Leduc, I can guarantee you I’m not the kind of woman who gets attached to small animals and talks to them in silly voices.” The puppies were all looking up at her, threatening to turn her into a liar.

  “There’s no room in this house for a dog.”

  “No, no. Of course not.” Not even one?

  He was gone by the time she looked up from putting them in the tub, leaving her with puppy bathing and the visit from the vet. She blocked off her room and baby proofed it then gave the boys a blanket in a box, and put down puppy pads the vet had brought.

  “I thought the vet was going to take them,” Severin said when he stopped in front of her room later.

  “They didn’t tolerate the dewormer very well, so it’s better if they stay here for now.”

  “What did you call them?”

  She looked up from the one she was petting. “This one is Gilbert, then there’s Montague, Harvey, and Theodore.”

  “Do the world a favor and let your future husband name your children.”

  She stuck her tongue out at him without thinking, and he quirked a brow.

  “How long are they staying?” he asked coldly.

  “A couple of weeks? I just need time to find them good homes. I’ll post online first thing tomorrow.”

  “For their sakes, I hope their new owners have better taste in names.”

  Asshat.

  He glared at them, then at her, and walked away. However, she could have sworn he looked at the pile of fluffy black-and-brown puppies longer than was strictly necessary.

  Chapter Fourteen

  For a few days the girl tiptoed around the house. Afraid to attract his attention? Possibly. A few people came by the house to look at her mutts, but left empty handed. They were up whining at all hours of the night, and Severin found the commotion and yipping irritating.

  He stormed in and out, but spent most of his time working on the ugliest bike he’d ever made, forging and welding and attaching gruesome flourishes that probably weren’t street legal, but it was hard to care. It would end up in his personal collection if no one would buy it.

  The girl came to the forge at mealtimes, bringing trays of food he usually forgot to eat, then stole off again before he could punish her for annoying him. A cough – a soft word – anything could set him off. She hadn’t run from him again, just submitted to his moody but controlled discipline and thanked him for it when he was done. He knew what she was doing, and maybe somewhere deep down he appreciated it, but it was hard to think past what he’d lost to think about how his behavior was affecting her.

  Eventually, though, his self-imposed solitary confinement got lonely. He found himself looking forward to her visits, even though he was angry at her because there was no one else around to be angry at. There was a time where he’d been able to fake normalcy, but he couldn’t remember how to do it. He couldn’t even remember how to talk to someone he shared a house with. Barking at one of the only people who acknowledged his existence was stupid, and he needed to try to stop.

  Having no one left to lose would be easier, but he was dependent on Minnow to make his life not suck. And even though he kept testing her, she kept not leaving. It went against everything in his head to trust that she wouldn’t betray him and leave too, but there she was again, at the door. The prettiest zookeeper in the history of zoo keeping.

  Most pathetic zoo ever. Him. Mutts. At least the mutts were cute.

  Lunch came on a tray carried by a sexy little slave who wore a frilly, thigh-length dress and wooly white over-the-knee socks with pink ribbons laced through the tops. The cold had turned her normally pale skin pink. She set down her tray, turned to close the door then arranged the steaming bowl, sandwich, crackers, and utensils in an attractive display on a table.

  “Mister Leduc, would you prefer coffee or beer? Or I could go back to the house for something else?” Her voice was low, neutral, but held a hint of fearful anticipation. He’d been unpredictable for days, even to himself, but wasn’t sure how to apologize for that when it would probably keep happening. Maybe he did need help, other than the pretty girl who’d only been hired to teach him social skills. Instead, he’d taught her to endure his lack of social skills.

  “Just leave everything there.”

  She nodded, hesitating by the table, either wanting to say
something or wanting him to. He hadn’t fucked her since the night in the woods. Was that what she wanted, coming into his space dressed like a naughty little girl who wanted attention?

  “Is there anything I can help with?” she asked, her voice timid.

  “Come here.” He waved her over and she came to him immediately. He didn’t need help, but his inner pervert wanted to get a better look at what she was wearing. “Straddle the seat and hang onto this piece.”

  Without hesitation, she put one of her sexy legs over the seat of the bike, flashing her little panties at him. The bike seat rucked up the hem of her dress, and the fluffy white eyelet made for an interesting contrast with the ugly Frankenbike.

  She held the piece he’d indicated, and kept it still while he welded it in place. Over the past few months she’d helped often enough that she didn’t even flinch anymore. He surveyed the piece longer than he needed to after it was firmly attached, but only as a cover for his perusal of her bared thighs. The over-the-knee socks with the dress. Hair in pigtails. Completely distracting.

  Finally, he stepped back, knowing she’d caught onto the fact that it was her he was looking at, not the bike.

  “Is that all, Mister Leduc?” she asked, getting off the bike while doing her mock best to maintain her modesty with a hand holding down the bottom of her skirt. She looked up at him coquettishly from under her lashes. Afraid of his moods but too horny to stay away?

  “Did you come in here dressed like that because you need spanking?”

  Her cheeks glowed pink, matching the ribbon around her waist, and the ones at the tops of her socks.

  “I bought this online the other day. I thought I’d try it on and see what you thought.” She put the end of one pigtail in her mouth and sucked on it. “Do you like these sorts of games, Mister Leduc?”

  He wasn’t sure how he felt about her pretending to be younger than she already was, but his dick was damned sure he was enjoying the view.

  “I’m not sure how I feel about it,” he admitted. “It’s you, so it’s hot, but it reminds me of how young you actually are.”

  He moved closer, and she tipped her head shyly to one side. Slowly, he reached out and touched one of her pigtails, then wrapped it around his hand and gave it a tug. The girl gasped in outrage but her eyes flared with lust. He led her to the table where she’d set out his lunch and pushed her belly down over an empty section, admiring the way the ruffled crinoline barely brushed the bottom of her ass. Minnow was made for him to fuck.

  “Do you think of me as a daddy, Miss Korsgaard?”

  “No.” She wrinkled her nose adorably. “You’re too mean to be a daddy. You’re more like the monster under my bed.”

  “Yes. That would be more accurate.”

  “What are you doing?” she gasped as he lifted the back of her dress and draped it over her lower back. Her white panties had silly ruffles on the bum, but they left the sweet curve of her ass cheeks bare.

  The taboo of it weirded him out but aroused him anyway.

  “Monsters tend to do what they want,” he pointed out.

  “True.” She laid her head on the table, watching him, trembling and pressing her thighs together.

  Rather than touch her, he sat in front of his lunch and began to eat. He tore a small piece off his sandwich and pushed it into her mouth. She blinked slowly at him as she chewed, her eyes going soft and dreamy with every bit of food he gave her. When the sandwiches were gone, he pulled her into his lap. He ate the soup, savoring it and her subtle squirms, still impressed with how good a cook she was.

  “This is good. Would you like some?”

  She nodded, even though he could feel her pussy burning a hole in his thigh. Carefully, he spooned some into her mouth. That went well enough, but a bit of the next spoonful dribbled down her chin. He caught it with his tongue, and then they were suddenly kissing and he wasn’t quite sure how it happened.

  When he pulled back, he swatted her bare thigh. “Bad. I’m supposed to be working.” Despite his words, he turned her back to his chest and found himself exploring the top of one sock with curious fingers.

  “You’re the boss in this place. You don’t have to work at all, if you don’t want to.”

  “Oh?” He followed the pink ribbon threaded through the top of the sock to the inside of her thigh, and tickled her there, but then dropped his arms back to his sides.

  She squirmed in his lap, her giggle breathy.

  “And am I supposed to make using your pretty cunt my job instead?”

  She whimpered and spread her legs, draping them over either side of his and hooking the toes of her ballet flats behind his calves.

  “Such a bad little girl, acting slutty for the monster when he’s trying to have a conversation with you.”

  “It’s not my fault. The monster has been ignoring me when he’s not growling and it’s making me crazy.” Tentatively, she took his wrists and pulled her arms around her, then slid one of his hands between her legs, and the other into the bodice of her dress. He left his hands where she’d put them, but didn’t take things any further.

  She whined, but let her head fall back against his chest. Holding her facing away from him was easier than a real hug. “What do you want to talk about?”

  “Dogs.”

  She sighed. “The people answering my ad don’t seem very nice. I watch them with the boys, but they’re either too rough, or too soft. I can’t send them off with people who can’t handle them.” She grimaced. “And I was kind of hoping they’d go somewhere together.”

  “No one is going to take four mannerless puppies. They get into everything.”

  She nodded sadly.

  Forget the silly dogs. He had questions he needed answers to.

  “You let me do anything I want,” he observed.

  “What? Is this about the dogs?”

  “No.”

  “Well you should let a girl know when you change the subject.”

  He swatted her thigh and she smiled shyly. Brat.

  “This is about you. You never safeword. You let me toy with you, beat you, humiliate you. You obey my orders and don’t ask for anything. Why?”

  She tipped her hips toward his palm, rubbing herself against it. Wetness seeped through her panties, dampening his hand.

  “I don’t know. I just like it.”

  “Even if you don’t get what you want?”

  “I want whatever you give me. Whatever you choose not to give me. All of it turns me on. If it hurts too much in the moment, it just turns me on later when I’m remembering it.”

  “Pervert.”

  “You say that like it’s a bad thing.” She smiled impishly.

  She was too fun. Too good. There was a catch somewhere, and he was impatient to find out what it was.

  “What’s your deal, Miss Korsgaard? You show up here for work and weeks later you have Sutton eating out of your hand,” he heard his voice stumble over Sutton’s name and the reality that she was gone forever washed over him again. “You’re too fucking perfect. You follow me around and let me treat you like shit. You blow me and let me fuck you. Let me hit you. I locked a collar around your neck, claim you as my property, and you don’t even question me or object.” He blew out a breath. “Why?”

  “Because I’m a submissive masochist and you have my fucking number, Mister Leduc.” She groaned. “Can we finish discussing this after you give me an orgasm or two? I answer questions much better after sex.”

  “Nice try.” He lifted her off his lap and sat her on the table. It would be easier to talk without the distraction of her squirming on his cock. “Why are you still here, Miss Korsgaard? What do you get out of this?”

  “I like it here. I like you. Why does it have to be more complicated than that?” She propped the toe of one of her little ballet flats on his stool, between his legs, letting her dress slide up her thigh until he could almost see those distracting panties of hers. “You’ve decided you own me. I could try to fight a
nd run away, but it would be pretty pointless seeing as how I was already here of my own free will. I also know part of the reason you collared me like this was to freak me out and scare me away. You’ll just have to deal with me hanging around liking you.” She leaned in, looking into his eyes, her own beseeching. When she looked at him that way it made him sorry he wasn’t a decent guy. “Someday, if you’re mean enough, I might leave, but I don’t think that’s what you really want.”

  He wrapped a hand around her calf. Compared to him she was so finely built that she felt disturbingly breakable. And yet she seemed to trust him more than he trusted himself.

  “Why wouldn’t you leave? Eventually you’re going to want a normal life again. Unless you’re in the witness protection program or something, why would you stay here?”

  “My grandfather died about a year ago,” she said, shrugging like it hadn’t been unexpected. “My parents have basically disowned me, and my perfect sister doesn’t speak to me. I don’t know what you keep thinking I have to go back to. You’re it. You and your family and your friends. I was alone before I came here.”

  “What about your own friends?”

  “I lost most of them when I moved to Michigan. I spent so much time trying to finish school and make rent that I didn’t have time to keep up with them. People grow apart. Maybe it makes me a bad friend, but we have nothing in common anymore. I talk to them online once in a while, but Jenna is married and has two kids, and all she wants to talk about is her husband’s bitchy mistress, and Marisol is getting her master’s in public health and I can’t follow half of what she’s saying. I don’t have much to contribute.”

  “But your family?”

  She shrugged. “My final transgression was apparently unforgivable.”

  “Were you a stripper or something? Call girl?”

  Her laugh was incredulous. “I hate to have to break this to you, Mister Leduc, but I’m not exactly a hot commodity. I’m short. Silly. Quirky.”