Feral King (The Dominant Bastard Duology 1) - Page 85

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She ran for it, fleeing him and yet wanting to be caught – but not until she’d shaken him out of the withdrawn grief he’d retreated into.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.”

Tags: Sparrow Beckett, Sorcha Black The Dominant Bastard Duology Erotic
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