“No. I’m not sending it to her packrat sister. Other than her, there’s just Church and me. He already took what he wanted. We’re not nostalgic about things like you are.”
“If you weren’t, you’d be donating this stuff, not burning it.”
He bared his teeth at her. “I don’t want strangers touching her things.”
Her heart melted. For all of his rough ways, he had a tender heart, even if his actions were odd. Maybe he just didn’t know what to do with his feelings.
“Do you want me to help?”
“No. I need to do this myself.”
She nodded and followed him out again.
The dresser had caught fire well now, and for a moment he stood watching the blaze, his arms still full of Sutton’s possessions. He nodded to himself then flung his armload onto the blaze. A picture caught on the breeze and skated to the ground. Minnow crouched and picked it up. A chubby, grinning baby with pale blue eyes looked back at her from the photo. A baby. A picture from before he’d been sent here. She tucked it into her jacket pocket.
“No.” Severin’s voice was stern.
“But it’s a baby picture of you.”
“Yes. It’s the only one that I know of.” He held his hand out for it.
“No.” She put her hand protectively over her pocket.
“It’s not yours.”
“I want to keep it.” She took a step back. He took a step forward.
“That’s nice. Give it to me.”
“No,” she objected. “You were so adorable. Please, can I keep it?”
Growling, he lunged for her. Responding to instinct, she spun and ran from him, feeling as if they were reliving the last time they’d been at the fire pit.
“Get back here, you little shit.”
Little shit? If she had any breath to spare, she would have laughed. Affectionate name-calling was a good sign.
She ran, not knowing where she was going, but glad to distract him from the grief that had kept him dour and silent for so long.
He was swearing under his breath.
“You’re going to be so fucking sorry when I catch you.”
The threat made Minnow’s long-dormant arousal flicker to life.
She ran for it, fleeing him and yet wanting to be caught – but not until she’d shaken him out of the withdrawn grief he’d retreated into. If he didn’t talk to her, there was no way for her to help. Even irritating him like this was better than the lack of response he’d shown to everything else over the past days.
With the moonlight filtering through the trees, the path into the woods seemed creepier than usual, but she hurtled into it without pausing. What kind of animals might be awake and hunting at this time of night? Pushing herself to run faster, her every breath burned in her chest – heart beating faster than a run should have merited. Behind her she could hear Severin’s footfalls. He was almost close enough to reach out and grab her. What would he do? Something unpleasant, but how unpleasant? Possibilities flicked through her mind. Maybe she should stop running before she pissed him off worse? That was probably a sound idea, but it was impossible to make herself stop with adrenaline coursing hot through her.
After a few minutes, she realized he had to be toying with her. She slowed, stopped. She was alone in a natural clearing, and Severin was nowhere in sight. But he’d been right behind her...
She held her breath, trying to listen for him over the loud thudding of her heart, but she could only hear the wind in the trees and the call of birds to each other in the darkness. Where had he disappeared to? Turning full circle, she felt her eyes going round with the effort to see through the gloom. Deeper shadows loomed near every tree. Was he watching her, or had he given up and gone back?
A nervous giggle escaped her. She blew out her held breath then tried to quiet herself. Playing games like this with him when he was in a strange state of mind was probably a mistake.
Pain exploded in her scalp. He spun her around and pressed her against the trunk of a tree, the bark digging into her cheek.
“Why are you still living in my house, Miss Korsgaard?”
His words stabbed into her heart, more painful than she would have expected.
“Do you want me to move out?” she asked, emotion thickening her throat. Tears pricked her eyes, but she blinked them back. Was he that angry about her saving the pictures?
“I haven’t spoken to you in two weeks – barely acknowledged your existence – and still you’re hanging around like a stray hoping for a meal.”
“You just lost your mother. You’re grieving.”
“I didn’t lose her. She’s not missing. I know where her ashes are buried.”
His body was pressed against her back, pinning her there – his words angry and harsh in her ear.
“Do you really want me to leave?”
“I don’t want you staying out of fucking pity.”
“I wasn’t here out of pity in the first place, Mister Leduc. Why would our relationship suddenly be about pity?”
“You should leave while you can.”
“Why?”
“For fuck’s sakes, Minnow – I’m not right in the head! Why stay here when you could be with someone normal?”
“Is it that hard to believe that someone could love you?”
His body jerked as though she’d struck him.
“Fine. You don’t want to listen? You want to fucking stay with me? You get what you get. Last chance.”
She shook, waiting to see what he’d do.
“You little fucking idiot.” He fumbled with the button of her jeans then shoved the stretch denim down to her knees. She felt him fiddling with his own pants, and tried to push him away, but he only shoved her harder against the tree, scraping her belly.
“You had your chance. I fucking warned you.” His hand groped roughly between her thighs. “I’ve always been on my best behavior with you. That’s over.”
She gasped as his cold fingers parted her folds. Without any preamble, he slid one of his frigid fingers into her hot and swollen sex. It hurt, scraping a bit, but her body adjusted to the invasion and coated his callused finger with her arousal.
“Wet?”
She pressed her forehead against the rough bark, thrusting her ass back to meet him. Her breaths roughened as though she’d started to run again.
“You like being treated like a little whore, don’t you, Miss Korsgaard.”
By him? Fuck yes.
“No,” she gasped. “I –”
He slipped his finger out of her even though she clenched her internal muscles in an attempt to keep it. She opened her mouth to protest, but the tip of his cock prodded at her, and before she could do more than tip her hips, he forced his huge dick into her inch by burning inch.
“Oh fuck – it hurts.” She grunted, digging her nails into the tree.
He groaned in her ear then wrapped a huge arm around her waist, bracing himself against the tree with his other hand. He withdrew a few inches then slammed back into her hard enough her feet left the ground. The denim of his jeans scraped her ass cheeks, and his belt buckle was a cold brand on her thigh, but it was being skewered on his huge fucking dick that made her cry out against the sleeve of her jacket. It felt as if he was fucking her with a baseball bat. Her arousal dripped from her, but the lubrication wasn’t helping. He felt so huge in this position.
There was no lust in his fucking, only a terrifying aggression. She clenched her teeth so they’d stop rattling together, but every thrust forced a squeal from her. His hot grunts in her ear, and his harsh use, made her delirious with discomfort and arousal. When he let go and reached between her legs, rather than rubbing her clit, he slapped her there. She cringed away from his hand, taking the next stroke of his cock too deep, and she could swear his cock piercing hit the back of her throat. A series of slaps landed on her clit, and she rocked back against his cock, only to be driven forward by his thrusts. Now they were both grunting, their breaths pluming in
the chill night air.
His thrusts grew erratic, and she knew he had no intention of letting her orgasm. He swore quietly in her ear as his cock swelled alarmingly inside her, then began to pulse. Hard hands closed over her hips and he held her still as he got off, his come scalding and so copious it immediately began to slip past his thrusts to trickle down her thighs. Her clit throbbed, and she whined in distressed as he pulled out. A rush of his spendings followed his withdrawal, and as he rebuttoned his jeans, it left her feeling used, dirty, and exposed.
When she didn’t move to cover herself, he yanked her panties and jeans back up, patting between her legs and making his mess seep into the fabric. He clamped a possessive, directive hand on the back of her neck, and led her back through the forest to the grounds.
“Sit,” he grumbled, using his grip on her nape to push her down on the bench by the fire. “Stay.”
He walked into the darkness, and she couldn’t help but grind her pussy against the wood of the bench, trying to get relief. She gave up after a few minutes, shamed by her arousal as she again caught sight of Sutton’s belongings burning. When would he insist she return the picture in her pocket so he could burn it?
“Good girl.” He stroked her hair and she squeaked in surprise. “Are you sure you’re not leaving?”
Shit. What was he going to do if she said no again?
She’d find out soon enough.
“No, Mister Leduc,” she said, going for firm rather than meek.
“From now on, I do what I want to you when I want. You obey my orders immediately and without question.”
Didn’t she already do all that anyway?
“Yes, Master.”
From behind, he lowered something over her and put it around her neck. It was cold. Metal? It felt solid. “If you want this off, you’ll have to ask me to cut it off.” There was a click. A thrill of panic shot through her. Too tight – she was suffocating! She lurched to her feet clawing at it.
“Get it off,” she begged, hooking her fingers under it and tugging. It didn’t budge.
“You’re fine. Quit being a baby.”
She realized her fingers fit under it easily, and tried to slow her heart rate. When she was calmer, she explored the thing with her fingers, finding the lock that was surprisingly solid for its size.
“Where’s the key?”
“I melted it down.”
Panic welled again.
“But what if I need it off?”
“I’ll use bolt cutters,” he said, sitting down beside her. “If you’re staying, it will be on my terms.”
“But why does anything have to change?”
“Because if I’m going to bother getting attached to you, I have to be sure you can’t walk away.”
“But that’s not how life works!”
“It’s how our life works from now on. If you want to go somewhere, I go with you. You don’t leave the property without me.”
“That’s pretty much how things are already.”
He glanced at her from the corner of his eye. “Well, now I’ve said it out loud.”
“So I’m your captive?”
“Yes.”
“But...I have a safeword and can leave whenever I want?”
He glared into the fire. “You stay with me.”
Should she be afraid? He couldn’t mean it the way it sounded, right?
“Go to bed.”
She edged closer to him. “But...now?”
“Goodnight, Miss Korsgaard. Remember that you don’t have permission to touch yourself.” He turned his attention to the fire, dismissing her without another word or any sign of affection.
She crept away, thumbing the collar around her neck. It was only after she showered off the come and streaks of blood that she looked in the mirror and realized he must have made the thing. It was smooth steel with deliberate scorch marks – ugly and matching the look of his bikes. If anyone who knew his work saw the collar, they’d know whom she belonged to.
A shiver trembled through her lower belly.
The collar was bad enough, but the words stamped into them – even reading them backward in the mirror made her guts knot with fear and lust.
Property of Severin Leduc.
*
“Let me know if you need me to get you out.”
Even over the phone, she could tell Rodrigo wasn’t okay with her decision to stay. She leaned back in Severin’s comfy leather desk chair, twirling the old-fashioned phone’s cord around her finger and watching the rain come down outside. This whole room smelled clean and manly, and it made her want to stay there for hours and daydream about sex.
“Oh, like you’re going to fly back from Italy and stage a prison break?” She laughed lightly, trying to pretend she wasn’t nervous about staying. Severin making her nervous was part of the excitement of being with him, but she had to admit things with him were getting a bit scary. “Stop worrying about us and have fun. If we’ve gotten through things okay so far, we’ll be fine.”
He grumbled something in Spanish that she didn’t understand then sighed.
“I love that idiot to death – you know that even if he doesn’t get it – but if he wrecks things with you irreparably he’ll never forgive himself.” His voice lowered, as though Severin might overhear his half of the conversation. “And then there’s you, preciosa. Just because he dominates you doesn’t mean he gets to do anything he wants. Don’t let him bully you.” He mumbled something else she didn’t catch.
She laughed. “Ro, this isn’t my first rodeo. You don’t have to tell me how to handle a bull. If things get too crazy, I’ll just leave the ring.”
“See? That’s the problem. I’m afraid you’ll end up so brainwashed out there alone with him that you won’t realize things have gone too far. Hell, I don’t know many women who wouldn’t have left already.” He cleared his throat. “He’s not even the easiest person to be friends with – I can’t imagine being his submissive.”
“I’m fine. He’s suffering right now, and I get that. He just needs some time, and someone to be here to help him through it.”
“Right now you’re not just his employee and his girlfriend, you’re his slave, and his therapist, and his...everything. He’s obsessed with you, even though he’s trying to pretend he doesn’t care.”
“He’ll settle down again. He just doesn’t know how to process everything he’s feeling. He’s afraid I’ll leave but sometimes he also wants me to hurry up and go before he gets too emotionally invested.”
“You’re young, Minnow, and maybe too optimistic for your own good. I can’t make this decision for you, but just remember that you can’t save him. He’s a grown man and set in his ways.”
“He doesn’t need to change. He just needs someone to teach him how to trust.”
“I think that part of him is broken. His stupid birth family broke it. He’s hinted to me that something bad happened before they threw him out, but no matter what it was, I think the worst part for him has been feeling like he was disposable – like he wasn’t worth having and wasn’t worth entrusting to someone else.”
Minnow’s throat thickened. She pulled the baby picture of Severin she carried in her hoody pocket and looked at the trusting little face with the big silly grin. What the hell had happened? In the picture, he had pulled himself up to stand in a beautiful crib in a beautiful room. He was wearing an expensive-looking summer shorts and button-down shirt set. Like the royal baby pictures posted in Time magazine. There was nothing in the picture that suggested he’d been unwanted.
No child should have to go through what his family had put him through. Sure, she’d had her own issues with her parents, but nothing like what he’d survived. Really, it was no wonder he was a little messed up.
Rodrigo was still talking, but she’d missed some of it. “You’re content there for now, but if you ever change your mind, or need to get out of there, just remember I’m an escape clause. You can stay with me until you decide wha
t you want to do and get back on your feet. Hell, you can just stay – I’m rarely home anyway. You’d have free run of the house, and you don’t have to worry that it would be awkward or that I’d expect anything.”
“If I ever went there to stay with you, even temporarily, he’d think something was going on between us and he’d never forgive you. I won’t be a wedge in your friendship. If things get bad I can always go to a shelter.”
“Fuck that. I’d set you up at a hotel first.”
They both sighed.
“I have to go get some work done. I’m serious though, Min, if something happens and you don’t call me for help, I’ll be pissed.”
“I’m not your responsibility, Mr. Solis.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. Of course you are, preciosa,” he said, his tone warm with passion and affection. “You both are.”
She blushed. It was hard not to have a slight crush on him, considering how often they talked, and what she and Severin usually ended up doing with him when he came over.
They said their goodbyes, and Minnow hung up, rubbing her ear. She’d been on the phone with Church for almost an hour before Rodrigo had called.
“Who was that?”
Minnow screamed, then fell back in the chair clutching her chest. Severin stood in the doorway, shaggy and wild, anger in his pale gaze.
Why was he angry?
“That was Mr. Solis. He’s on his way to Italy for a week, and wanted you to know. Before that I was on the phone with Church, who was looking for you. The girls are getting up to mischief, as usual, and he was calling to blame you for being a bad influence.”
Only then did she notice he was carrying a large plastic container. Muddy and battered as it was, he still set it down on the clean floor. She wasn’t about to complain about the mess it would make.
Would she be in trouble for sitting in his chair? She jumped up.
Without pausing, he walked to her, stopping only when he was standing practically on top of her. His proximity, paired with his incredible height, forced her back down into the seat. She had to look way up to see his expression.
His eyes were narrowed, menacing, and in response her heartbeat kicked up a notch. So close to his zipper, she fantasized about him drawing it down, and about him grabbing her hair and forcing her mouth down on his cock. With the kind of anger he’d been harboring, she could only imagine the ferocity of the facefucking he’d give her.
Feral King (The Dominant Bastard Book 1) Page 20