Feral King (The Dominant Bastard Duology 1)

“I’m fine,” she reassured him. Fuck. She was better than fine. Nathan 2.0’s lust was fucking hot.

He nodded then drew in a lungful of air before letting her go and stepping back.

“Do you have any physical restrictions?”

“Um…no.”

“Panties off. Kneel there and wait.” He pointed at the heavy wooden coffee table. Ignoring her as she did as he’d commanded, he moved around the room taking bondage gear and impact implements out of a cabinet and throwing them on the couch.

“You do this a lot?” she asked, wishing he hadn’t regained the control he’d seemed so ashamed of losing.

“Do I do what a lot?”

“Bring girls up here to play.”

“My apartment is off limits. No one is allowed in here.”

And yet he’d brought her up here without any hint of hesitation.

Once he had gathered his gear, he approached her, his head tilted, considering.

He tapped her shoulder. “Arms behind your back and grab your elbows.”

She obeyed, then made all the adjustments to her posture that he asked for with his hands. Chin up, shoulders straight, knees spread. When she was exactly how he wanted her, he walked around her, inspecting. His boots were nearly silent on the floor despite the fact that he was walking on hardwood. He moved so quietly for such a large man, and it seemed so much sinister than if he shouted and stomped around like some “Doms” did.

When he started to bind her arms with rope, she fought to get free.

“What do you think you’re doing, Leelee?” he whispered in her ear, his breath hot yet sending chills through her blood.

She fought harder rather than answer, but he pinned her face down on the table and finished the job as though her disobedience was inconsequential.

“Go ahead and fight,” he invited. “Show me what you’ve got.”

He swatted her ass and she wriggled away, all too aware he was letting her slip out of his grip.

“Come here.” He pointed to the floor in front of him.

“Make me.” It was like an echo of the game she’d always wanted to play, that he’d never engage in. Now he wasn’t just a head taller – he was fucking huge.

He strode toward her and she slid off the table and backed from him slowly. Oh fuck. She’d fantasized about this game for so long, but after a dom in Manhattan had told her a true submissive would never challenge a dominant like this, she’d never tried it with anyone else.

With Nate it was unfinished, thrilling business.

“Why are you being such a bad girl?” Nathan asked, his brow furrowed in disapproval and his voice dropping to such low rumble that she could have sworn it made her clit vibrate.

“Because you won’t punish me,” she shot back. “I know you, Nathaniel. You’re too nice to be strict.”

“Oh, am I?”

She nodded, relaxing because he wasn’t coming closer. “And you think I’m cute so you’ll let me do what I want.” It was too bad. After the wrestling she’d thought she was going to get all the violence and dominance she’d been craving from him.

“Has being cute saved you from getting in trouble with other dominants?”

“Yes,” she admitted. “Some of them find me hilarious.” She swayed a little, playing up the big eyed and sweet angle that often go her out of hot water.

“You are funny, and very beautiful, but if you brat with me there will be consequences.”

“What kind?”