Tragic King (The Dominant Bastard Duology 2)

Chapter Fifteen

Rodrigo stepped out of the night and into the house. He dropped his bag just inside the door, fumbling for the foyer light switch.

Paranoia had convinced him to take an earlier flight. It was late, but the house’s silence felt full rather than empty.

Not yet, then. Severin would have texted him if anything had happened. He hoped.

It had been getting harder and harder to leave town during the months since he’d become a married man. This trip, being alone in Europe, had been a special kind of torture, especially with the worry that Minnow might have the baby while he was gone. He’d called home so often Severin had given him shit for not trusting him to take care of her.

He moved into the hallway.

An arm snaked around his neck and jerked him back onto his heels. He struggled to breathe and tried to pry the arm away in a moment of panic.

“Scared, husband?” Severin growled in his ear. The spike of fear turned into sexual adrenaline, and his dick sprang awake.

“You...surprised me.” Coincidence, or had he waited up for him? The idea that his husband waited up for him filled him with warmth.

The arm tightened and Severin grunted in annoyance.

“You surprised me, Master,” Rodrigo gasped out.

Severin let him go so fast he stumbled. “Come with me.”

He led Rodrigo into his study then took a seat in one of the club chairs, lounging there with such masculine self-assurance Ro had to force himself not to sigh aloud.

“Take off that fucking suit, you self-important little fuck.”

Rodrigo groaned, his cock already throbbing for relief. Severin being Severin was always a turn-on.

He loosened his tie, stripped off his suit jacket then fumbled to unbutton his shirt. As he worked, Severin rose and came to him, then ran a rough hand through his hair, mussing it.

He walked around Rodrigo as though inspecting him. “You come home after being on these fucking trips and you’re all full of yourself, with your A-type dominant shit. Every fucking time I have to take you down a peg.”

His guts clenched at Severin’s words. He was never sure what made Sev get like this when he got home from business trips. As if being away would make Ro forget his place? Like he could see Severin without remembering?

“Those too,” Severin said when he was down to his underwear. “I see your dick is being presumptuous tonight.”

“I’m sorry, Master,” he said quietly. There was no point in trying to make excuses, because they just got him punished harder.

“What exactly is turning you on?” Severin asked. “And don’t say me.”

He stripped out of his underwear and laid them aside. “Well, I haven’t had sex in days, and my dominant ambushed me as soon as I got home. Wishful thinking?”

Severin swept his clothing off the coffee table and onto the floor, then walked over them on the way to his desk. The man’s disdain for Ro’s attire seemed to know no bounds, even though he’d acknowledged more than once that clothes were a tool of Rodrigo’s trade.

From the top drawer of his desk, Severin withdrew the wooden box where he kept Rodrigo’s metal cuff when he was traveling.

“I’m getting tired of you walking around Europe unmarked.”

“I would never stray from you or from Minnow. My ring is another kind of collar, Master.”

“We all wear the same rings. They don’t count as collars. They’re not good enough for me.” He crooked a finger at Ro, who went to him, like a good boy. When Severin held out a hand for his wrist, he complied.

The cuff settled into place and he realized that having it on made tension he’d been unaware of carrying abate. There was s

omething about being claimed by this man that was immensely satisfying. Although he’d fantasized about Severin for years, he’d never realized how deeply Severin could make him feel his submission. He hadn’t realized how intrinsic it was – as though he’d shown Ro a latent part of his personality far more profound than he’d ever imagined.

“You didn’t like it being off any more than I did,” Severin observed.