Feral King (The Dominant Bastard Duology 1)

Somehow the damned necktie still smelled like him. Sexy.

Curled up in bed, Minnow inspected the way the tie looked wrapped around her wrists in the pale half-light, wishing that masturbating brought her any relief.

Sutton had inadvertently ruined everything that day by coming home too early, leaving Minnow more turned on and helpless than she’d felt in her entire life. The feel of Severin grabbing her head and fucking her face still had her waking from erotic dreams and having to constantly shake herself out of lurid memories about the sound he’d made as he came in her mouth, the hot spurt of him on her tongue, his look of disgusted arousal as she’d swallowed him down.

God, he was perfect and wild and gorgeous, and he hadn’t spoken to her much since, other than when he’d had to. Not knowing why was making her twitchy. Had she done something wrong? Disgusted him?

Ugh. Why did she care? Why was she still fantasizing about him fucking her?

She tried to pull her wrists apart, but the silk tie kept her deliciously trapped, just as his hands had caught at her hair as he pushed his thick shaft between her lips and dampness had pooled between her thighs. For a man who claimed to have no experience, he somehow knew exactly what she craved, and made her almost desperate enough to beg for more.

She brought her hands down between her thighs, touching herself through the thin cotton of her sleep shorts while feeling her bound wrists and thinking about his frigid, imperious gaze as he used her mouth. She wet a finger and eased her hands into her shorts. Maybe this time she could concentrate on him hard enough to end her own suffering for a few minutes.

Tentatively, she slid her damp finger down to her hot core, trying to remember the exact dream she’d been having. She stroked over her aching clit, barely touching. In her dream, he’d been forcing himself into her ass, and she was crying out in pain, trying to accommodate his girth. She could feel every vein, every piercing, as he forced his way in. He’d grunt and smack her ass, saying something ridiculously hot, like “Cooperate or this will hurt, Miss Korsgaard.” Maybe he’d even swear at her. She could still hear him swearing as he’d come down her throat. So fucking sexy. She teased her clit, her ass and thigh muscles tightening, her stomach clenching...

Her door banged open so hard it rebounded off the wall.

Severin loomed in the doorway. He had a body made for looming, and in that moment his appearance was almost enough to send her over the edge into violent orgasm.

She gasped, jerking her hands out of her shorts, glad she’d pulled the sheet back up after she’d tangled the tie around her wrists.

“You can’t just barge into people’s bedrooms!” she said, perhaps a shade too hysterically. Under the sheet she fought to free her wrists. It had been a bitch to undo it herself when he’d been the one who’d tied her, but this time she hadn’t bothered with knots.

“This is my house,” he growled. “I’ll do whatever I want to, at any time.”

“You’re an asshole.”

“Why is it such a big deal?” he asked, walking in, apparently not intimidated by her glare. “What were you doing?”

“I was sleeping!”

He frowned, moving closer until he was crowding the foot of her bed. “You’re wide awake.”

“Well I am now! You gave me a heart attack.” She sat up, drawing the sheet with her both to cover the outline of her hard nipples where they had to be obvious through her thin white camisole, and in the hope that his necktie was concealed and not dangling out somewhere. “I could have been naked or something!”

His brow arched, as though she was silly for thinking that was a problem for him. “Get dressed. We’re going out.” His gaze was cold and hard.

She shivered despite herself. Almost a week of ignoring her, and now he was being all intense and mysterious?

“Where are you taking me?” Had she sounded like her victim-self in one of her kidnapping fantasies? Shit. All she could smell was her own arousal, and the object of all of her latest tawdry fantasies stood far too close for comfort. He was almost in her bed, and she was a couple of tugs away from being naked. If he ripped the sheet down and crawled over her, she’d orgasm before he even put his weight on her. She shuddered.

A long look passed between them, but his expression was unreadable. Did he ever think about pinning her down and shoving his cock deep inside her? Hell, she was thinking about that enough for the both of them.

“Do I have time to shower, at least?”

“Yes. But you don’t have time to finish masturbating or get fussy with your make-up. If you take too long I’m coming back in here to speed up the process. Bring a jacket.”

Asshole. He’d known what she was doing and wanted to play games? Fine.

She jammed her hand back into her shorts and gave him a defiant look as she started to pleasure herself again, this time using the actual sight of him as her inspiration – daring him to say anything. His gaze caught the movement of the sheet and his massive chest heaved a few struggled breaths before he turned away.

“Fifteen minutes, Miss Korsgaard,” he grumbled as he walked out of the room. He wasn’t even polite enough to close the door behind him.

*

“Where are we going?” Minnow asked again as Severin led her to the parking garage. She frowned at the morning sun. Sure, it was nine in the morning, but she’d gotten used to sleeping in. Neither she nor Sutton were early risers.

“I have to get some things done in town and you’re coming with me.” He didn’t look at her, although he’d done enough of that after he’d slammed her door open again fifteen minutes after the first time. He’d caught her about to pull a T-shirt over her head, and if he’d been going for playing it cool, he’d failed miserably. There’d been no hiding his fascination with her body even after her shirt bottom met the waistband of her jeans.