“You’re perfect.”
She blushed and rolled her eyes. “You’re delusional.”
“Antisocial and delusional are two different things. I’m not the only one who thinks you’re perfect – Rodrigo would steal you from me in a heartbeat.”
“Anyway,” she continued, looking uncomfortable, “I didn’t get disowned for anything as exciting as being a sex trade worker. I think my mom would have preferred that.”
“Why did they disown you, if not for that? You said they thought you liked sex too much?” He felt himself relaxing. This was a much easier discussion than he’d thought it would be. He’d avoided asking her much about herself because he didn’t want to think about other people who’d have a claim on her time – people she’d eventually go back to when she got bored of being at the house with him. As much as it made him an ass, he liked hearing she had no one too.
“When I came up here for school we did a segment on gerontology. It was a weird topic for me, because I never knew my grandparents, really. My dad’s parents still live in Denmark, and my mom’s mom died when she was twenty-two.” She tapped her toe where it rested between his legs. “My mom’s father has been in and out of jail since she was a little girl. He was a thief. She barely knew him. My parents pretended he didn’t exist then got mad when I decided to look for him to interview him for a school assignment. I got to know him and started helping him out. He couldn’t work anymore by the last time he’d been released from jail, and he was too sick to work anyway. He was stick thin when I found him.”
In her agitation, she was tapping her foot on the stool he was sitting on, making it vibrate. He moved his grip to her ankle, then marveled at how his thumb and forefinger overlapped when he had his hand wrapped around it. She drew a sharp breath and her shudder shot through his palm.
“So what happened?” he asked quietly.
Her gaze settled on his, and she worried at her lower lip with her even white teeth. “I moved him in with me, and when my parents found out they were livid. We had a huge fight. I know Ben wasn’t there for my mom when she was growing up. He was rough around the edges but he regretted a lot of the decisions he’d made in life by the time I’d met him. He’d tried to patch things up with my mom, but she didn’t believe he’d changed, and was holding a grudge.” She shrugged. “I guess that bridge was burned too far to repair. His emphysema was so bad he couldn’t do much, and he had no one else.”
“So you took care of him until he died?”
“Yeah,” she mused, sounding sad. “He only lived a year, but it was nice to get to know him. It’s funny how my mother couldn’t stand him, but she has a lot of his mannerisms. He and I even have the same laugh. Genetics.” She shrugged. “I never would have known that was a thing. Who’d have thought you could have the same laugh as someone you’d never met, just because of genes?”
He frowned. “So he died a year ago, but you’re still not forgiven?”
“No. I may never be, but I’m okay with that.”
“You’d think they’d be more forgiving, considering they’re missionaries.”
“I think this was just one of those soul-deep things for my mom. She couldn’t get past it.
“Don’t you miss them?”
She grimaced and shrugged. “It wasn’t like we were close in the first place. I was never what they wanted me to be. I’m too dirty. I have a big mouth. I’m too opinionated. Anyway, they’re far away, and they’ve disowned me, so whatever. I’m tired of pretending to be being a pale imitation of myself to please them. I think they’re happier with me gone. They don’t even send a card on my birthday.”
Idiots.
“Do you feel like they’ve forgotten about you?”
She rolled her eyes. “I’m sure they won’t even mention my name if they get together at Christmas.”
He nodded slowly. “I know what you mean. I often imagine my family at these perfect family dinners, laughing together. I’m not sure why I do that to myself. I’m sure my sisters didn’t have a great life either.”
She laid her hand over the one that still held her ankle, then snatched it away again and gave him an apologetic smile. Not only had she forgotten he didn’t like being touched, she’d almost made him forget that too.
“My sister, Pearl, got married about six months ago. I found out on Facebook – and only because someone posted pics. Of course I torturing myself by looking at them every few days. My family looks so perfect and happy without me.”
Fuck. He didn’t know how to comfort people. She wasn’t crying, but her being sad about something he couldn’t control made him antsy.
How did people navigate this?
He grunted. “Do you want me to...slash their tires or something?”
She burst out laughing then seemed to realize he was serious and her eyes went round.
“No!” She covered her mouth with one of her small hands, her eyes sparkling. “You can’t slash people’s tires just because they hurt my feelings!”
“Well – I – It’s not fair that they did that to you. You took care of an old man. It’s not like you tried to bring him over to their place. Why can’t they just get over it?”
“I think they see it as a betrayal. Like I chose his side over my mom’s. But when you see people suffering like that in real life, it’s hard to walk away. Your heart goes out to them. Ben wasn’t perfect, but he didn’t deserve to die alone.”
“Is that why you stay with me?”
She blew out a sigh of annoyance. “Oh my god, get it through that thick head of yours! I’m not here out of pity. This isn’t about a job anymore, or do-gooding. What your family did to you – leaving you here – wasn’t fair. It makes me protective, but I’m here because I care about you. I feel like we’re connected somehow.” She blushed hard, but went on so fast her words tripped over each other. “Maybe that feeling is one-sided and my imagination is just running away with me. Whatever. What it comes down to is that I’m here because I...like you. You’re a good man.” She opened his beer and took a sip, her gaze daring him to punish her for taking it without asking.
He arched a brow. “After everything I do to you, you think I’m a good man?”
She shifted to the very edge of the table, closer to him. “You know I like it. You wouldn’t do it if I didn’t.”
He grabbed the backs of her thighs, just below her ass, and lifted her back into his lap to straddle him.
“So does that mean you’ll be here for Christmas, Miss Korsgaard?”
“Unless you want me to go away. I have nowhere else to go, but I could get a hotel room. Although, I thought I wasn’t allowed to leave the property without you.”
“You’re not. You’re stuck on The Island of Misfit Toys, my poor little twisted doll.” He kissed her and put his hand up her dress, finding the edge of her panties and tracing the leg band. “Rodrigo visits our island, but he can hide what he is. Church escaped, but he didn’t belong here like we do.”
He took the beer from her hand and turned her over his lap. A weird coil of lust shivered through him as he tugging down her frilly panties and bared her ass. He rubbed his palm over her quivering flesh, back and forth, lulling her until he couldn’t hold off any longer. His first smack landed and she gave a plaintive moan, the sound perfect and needy.
It was hard to believe she fucking loved this the way he did. Using the belt on her was fucking hot, but having her vulnerable and half naked and over his lap did interesting things to his brain. It made him feel more connected to her. Anyone could hurt her, but this link between them went further than the administration of pain. He spanked her slowly, making her wait for each slap, waiting until she was whining and wriggling in invitation. This was exactly what she’d come in here hoping for, and he knew it without needing to be told. Finally being able to read what someone wanted from him was strange – wanting to give it was stranger.
Smack.
Smack.
Pause.
He let
his hand hang in the air, threatening, and was rewarded with the girl looking over her shoulder at it impatiently. Her muscles strained as she angled herself more conveniently for him to hit.
She whined and arched back.
“Tease,” she grumbled.
“You think so?”
He spanked the living fuck out of her ass, enjoying her attempt to stay quiet as the tension in her built. Her breaths grew louder, but then, so did his, the excitement of beating her spiking adrenalized blood straight to his dick. Her first cry of distress was met with his rumble of satisfaction. After a few minutes she squirmed to get away, but he held her still, raining sharp, hard smacks until his palm stung even past his calluses.
Her skin was bright, mottled darker in spots, bruising, with the obvious outline of his hand repeating over and over along the edges, reminding him how big his hands were compared to her luscious ass. He could nearly span both globes with one hand. He trailed tickling fingers over the handprints as her hectic breathing started to slow, and he worked on calming the drumming in his chest.
Between her whimpers and the scent of her arousal, he was ready to take her. Instead, he pulled her panties back up, then sat her on his lap and stroked her hair. She nestled against his chest, pouting up at him.
“What?”
“Just – a spanking and then nothing?” she asked sulkily.
“You shouldn’t use your submission as a tool to get cock,” he admonished, doing his best to seem serious. It was hard to object to her ulterior motives, but it was fun to tease her. “Not everything needs to be about sex, Miss Korsgaard.”
Gently, she butted his chest with her forehead. “I just meant to talk.”
“Of course. I could tell by how you were dressed.”
She flushed, shifting in discomfort. “Maybe I was just trying to make sure I got your attention. We need to talk about Christmas. Church said he and Ilse are coming for the holidays with the kids, so I need to know what to get. What do you guys usually do to celebrate?”
“I don’t know. Sutton – used to make dinner with Church. I watched TV. Ilse took care of the kids.”
She shifted from one ass cheek to the other. She had to be sore.
“But this year...”
“What?”
“You’re going to help with dinner and help with the kids?”
He grunted, sliding his finger under her panties to trace the smooth, damp seam of her slit. “Why would I do that?” he asked, distracted.
She whined impatiently, but he only kept teasing. “Because you have a family and you love them.”
“Church left me.”
“Your brother deserves to make his own way in life, if that what makes him happy.”
Severin frowned at her. “I don’t want to talk about them right now.”
“No?” Their mouths were almost touching, and the caress of her breath on his lips was almost too erotic to bear. They breathed each other’s air for several moments, while he coaxed a finger into her. She wriggled on it, trying to get him deeper, but he didn’t allow it.
“What do you want for Christmas, Miss Korsgaard?”
“You’re too evil to be Santa. I’m guessing you’re Krampus.”
“You know what Krampus does to bad girls.”
“Gives them a birching?” Her pussy clenched around his finger and his cock twitched.
“Some bad girls like that too much. He has to find other ways to punish them.”
“Oh?” Her eyelids fluttered, and her head fell back to his shoulder as he finger fucked her but only up until the first knuckle.
“Have you looked in the beer fridge today?”
“No, Master.” She squeaked in dismay as he pulled his finger out of her pussy.
“Go get me the buttplug and lube I put in there this morning. You and I are going to have a serious discussion, young lady.”
“About what, Mister Leduc?” she asked breathlessly.
“About what bad girls get for Christmas.”
*
“Dress warm.”
Without asking why, she left the screening room to comply, trailed by a parade of puppies falling over their humongous paws to follow their mistress. She came back in jeans and a sweater, holding the new winter coat he’d bought for her, and the two tandem dog leashes. The pups frisked around her legs, yipping with excitement.
“Why are there still four dogs living in my house?” he asked no one in particular, knowing what she’d say. He led the way down to the back of the house and the door.
“No one wants to take a puppy that still chews so close to Christmas, and they still piddle sometimes – right boys? Tell him you’re just babies. You can’t help it!” She patted two of them before slipping on her coat. “Oh – are we going into town, Mister Leduc, or are we staying on the property?”
“Leash the little jerks. We’re going into the woods.”
She frowned, looking thoughtful. “I wonder if they’ll get into mischief out there.”
“How? By chewing a tree? They’ve had their shots.”
“What if they eat a mushroom and get sick? Or chase a porcupine?”
“If they’re stupid they’ll never survive in the city.”
“Oh,” she grimaced adorably, “I don’t think they’d be happy living in the city, Mister Leduc.”
They were already huge even though they were supposedly babies. They looked more like bear cubs than puppies.
“You have so many stipulations about where they can’t live that I’m starting to wonder if you’re hoping I forget you were supposed to get rid of them, Miss Korsgaard.”
Her cheeks turned bright pink and she busied herself with attaching their leashes to their collars.
“So are we just going for a hike?”
“We’re going to get a tree.” He grabbed the axe from the umbrella stand, and opened the door. All four pups started to chase him, and the girl staggered after them because of how hard they pulled on the leashes.
“A tree?” she asked in confusion.
“A Christmas tree? I believe you’re familiar with the concept.”
“Oh!” She grinned at him, her dark eyes glittering with unrepressed excitement. “I’ve never done this before. My parents always bought one at the grocery store.”
“They sell trees at the store?” He frowned, thinking. “You know, I don’t think I’ve been to a grocery store. We’ve always had food delivered.”
“Weirdo.”
“Yes, yes. You’re very bratty. I don’t have time to spank you right now.”
She sighed tragically.
“Come on. It’s almost Christmas, Miss Korsgaard. Let’s go murder a tree.”
They set off through the grounds, and by the time they reached the forest, he had claimed one of the tandem leashes so that the four pups didn’t drag Minnow off in their eager curiosity.
“You know, last year I didn’t even have a tree,” she said, a note of humor in her voice. “I assumed this year would be the same.”
The thought of Minnow spending the previous Christmas by herself bothered him. “I thought you were taking care of a woman last year.”
“I was. Her family came to visit for Christmas though, so I had the week off.”
“And your grandfather had just died.”
“Yes.”
“So what did you do?”
The corner of her mouth twitched. “Watched porn and baked cookies. Well, I made cookie dough and ate it. The nice part was I had food poisoning after that, so I was busy.”
He rounded on her and pulled her against his body, pressing her to him while trying not to knock her with the axe haft or yank the dogs around. Mauling her was getting more complicated lately.
“That is the saddest fucking Christmas I’ve ever heard of.”
She laughed up into his face, her cheeks flushed with cold. Fuck, she was beautiful. So cheerful and full of life. It made him afraid for her. It felt like something bad would happen to her because he lik
ed her.
“That’s not even the worst part. I bought myself a few things from the dollar store and wrapped them, just so I’d have something to open.”
“The dollar store. Wow. Krampus came early?”
“I got a chocolate bar and a lighter. I don’t even smoke!” She started to shake with laughter.
He closed his eyes, not sure how to deal with all of the conflicting feelings she inspired. “How did I end up saddled with such a ridiculous woman?”
“You like me ridiculous.” She stood on her toes and brushed his jaw with her lips, still chuckling. The fact that she took such a liberty shocked him, and he was frozen into inaction. He kind of liked it.
“How did you get something you didn’t want for Christmas...from yourself?”
“I don’t know!” She burst out laughing again. “It was supposed to be a chocolate bar and a pack of gum, but the cashier must have mixed up my order with someone else’s. There wasn’t time to go back and complain, so I just wrapped it anyway. Lighter fluid isn’t very minty, just so you know.”
He laughed out loud, surprising them both. “How were you ever single?”
“I don’t know!” She leaned against his chest, giggling so hard she was falling over. “I’m fucking enchanting!”
“Like a fairy fucking princess.”
They were staring at each other, grinning, and the anxiety that came with being unexpectedly happy made him pull away. Being too happy was a problem.
For a moment her brows drew together, as if she was vaguely embarrassed.
He slapped her awkwardly on the shoulder. “Well, you’re my fairy fucking princess now, so you’ll be getting something better than a lighter for Christmas.”
“Is it anal? I bet I’m getting anal.”
“It could be, brat.”
She bit her bottom lip, blinking up at him shyly.
At that point he walked away, following Gilbert and Montague farther into the woods.
He could hear her tromping after him through the dead grass. “Do we have many ornaments? Knowing Sutton, I bet they’re classy.”
“Nothing I want on the tree this year. We’ll have to get new ones.”
“Where are the old ones?”
Feral King (The Dominant Bastard Book 1) Page 22