Brand (The Donovan Dynasty)

by Sierra Cartwright

  She’d agreed to a family-and-close-friends-only event at the ranch a month after they’d announced their engagement. All the bedrooms had been filled, the way that Humphrey Donovan had once envisioned. It had been wild, crazy, fun. And he’d escorted everyone out of the front door the next morning so he could have Sofia all to himself.

  Most of them had stayed away until yesterday. A blissful several months.

  She loved having everyone around, the cooking, the conversation, the laughter. He tolerated it.

  “I like the dress,” he told her. It was short, black, fringed, sexy. With the way he was already thinking about sex, he should have encouraged her to wear jeans to cover her legs.

  “Stop it,” she warned, her gaze finding his in the mirror.

  “What?”

  “Your cock cannot be ready again,” she said.

  He came up behind her and bumped his hips against her buttocks. “Oh?”

  “My God! Out. Out.” She brandished her brush.

  In mock surrender, he raised his hands.

  “Out,” she repeated. “I mean it.”

  With a grin, he followed her order. He had put on his jacket and had just finished adjusting his bulldogger tie when she rejoined him, wearing a fresh coat of fuck-me red lipstick.

  He swept his gaze over her, taking in the entire package, hip-hugging black dress, bare legs, turquoise leather boots, hair that teased her shoulders, a mouth he could kiss all night. “I have a gift for you.”

  She shifted. “The one I’ve got in me right now is more than enough,” she promised him.

  “I believe you’ll like this one a little more.” He went to the shelf where he had his important pictures. It had evolved since Sofia had joined him. There were photos of their wedding, her sisters, her family, including her nieces. The one of him and his father had been restored and framed. It still hurt to look at it, but he kept it there, and each day the pain, the guilt, lessened by miniscule measures.

  Cade picked up a long, flat box. As she watched, he removed the lid. The stunning necklace had a diamond pendant hanging from a platinum chain. “It was Grandma Maisie’s.”

  Her eyes widened, and she looked from it, to him. “It’s gorgeous.”

  “Turn around, lift your hair. Let me put it on you.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “You’re my wife, a Donovan. It’s yours.” More and more, he was accepting his heritage, and he was learning to be proud of it.

  He put the necklace on her. The pendant snuggled below the hollow of her throat, the perfect way to complete her outfit.

  After she let go of her hair, he moved her in front of the mirror and stood behind her. “Now we’re ready for the party.”

  And the future.

  Also available from Totally Bound Publishing:

  Bonds: Crave

  Sierra Cartwright

  Excerpt

  Chapter One

  What the fuck? Stunned, Reece McRae froze in place and stared at the woman prostrate before him.

  Even though he couldn’t see her face, there was no doubt that it was Sarah. His Sarah. The woman he’d planned to collar, marry, cherish for the rest of his days.

  She wore a black corset that had a white arrow on each side, making her waist look impossibly tiny. A skirt covered her buttocks—barely—and hinted at exposed flesh beneath.

  Though it had been two years since he’d seen her, Reece remembered every one of her delicious curves. He recalled how silky soft she’d felt as he’d skimmed his fingertips across her skin.

  At one time, he’d grasped handfuls of her long hair. Now its length pooled onto the hardwood floor. Her arms were stretched in front of her, and her hands were on the floor, palms facing up.

  She remained in position, waiting on his command. Her reappearance was as unwelcome as it was unwanted.

  And, this close, the scent of her—femininity wrapped in the musk of unrequited love and unexplored promise—wrapped around him and transported him back.

  From the moment she’d walked into his company to apply for a job as his personal assistant four years before, he’d been attracted to her. After reminding himself that he had to be professional, he’d taken the time to consider all the applicants the human resources department had pre-screened. But she’d had the best résumé, and she’d interviewed better than anyone else.

  Even on their first project, they’d thrived. They’d made one hell of a team. In a short time, he’d come to count on her brilliance, creativity and upbeat nature. He’d gone to the office every day with a smile.

  At night, he’d hated saying goodbye. And he’d wanted, oh, so much more from her.

  Though McRae International didn’t have rules against fraternizing, as the CEO, he operated from his own set of guidelines. He didn’t date employees. He compartmentalized each area of his life.

  It had taken nearly four months to convince himself that going on a single date couldn’t hurt. They’d worked late one night, and he’d invited her to dine with him afterwards. Instead of a quick bite, he’d taken her to his home and had grilled a couple of steaks. Though they’d shared an office suite, she’d kept her personal life cloaked in mystery. He’d never heard her make a phone call during the day, nor had he caught her spending any time on social media or answering anything other than company emails. It was as if she became a different person after she logged off the computer for the night. And the more time he’d spent with her, the more he’d wanted to know who the real Sarah was.

  After dinner, he’d loaded the dishwasher, invited her to stay the night and promised her that he would be a complete gentleman. She had teased him about it. He’d admitted it was, indeed, a rarity. He’d made up the guest room, and when she’d slipped past him, he’d touched her shoulder, and she’d paused.

  He hadn’t consciously planned to kiss her, but having her in his arms, that close, had melted his steely resolve.

  And she’d responded to his kiss.

  The next morning, while she’d slept, he’d gone for a long run around Memorial Park. He’d wondered what the hell he’d been thinking in bringing her home. Tasting Sarah had been like having a bite of dessert. She’d been decadent and delicious, and the sample had only increased his appetite. It—she—they were impossible on every level. He had sexual desires that were outside the norm. He’d scared off more than a handful of women over the years.

  He’d gotten where he was in life by taking carefully calculated risks.

  Seducing Sarah would be one of the worst ideas he’d ever had. After all, what were the chances that his perfect assistant would also want to be his kinky little submissive?

  Finding a world-class employee was rare. He could find play partners. But over the next few weeks, the more he’d tried to deny the idea of being with her, the more it had persisted.

  Behaving at work had become a bigger struggle each day.

  His friend Julien had warned him of the dangers. If the relationship fell apart, Reece would be without a lover as well as a valuable work ally.

  Reece had quickly discovered that, when it came to Sarah, logic was a thing of the past.

  A month later, he’d asked her to accompany him to an after-hours business meeting. He’d rationalized that he could explain her presence to his associates, to her, even to himself. As if he’d still been a teenager, he’d held his breath until she’d agreed to be his guest.

  In that moment, when she’d slipped into his car and he’d heard the whisper of her silk stockings and seen an expanse of thigh beneath her dress’s hem, he’d known he had a difficult choice to make. Less than a week later, he’d done the only thing possible. He’d fired her and asked her to move in.

  After her initial shock, she’d accepted. They’d celebrated their new life with a honeymoon of sorts. When they’d returned to Houston, she’d started her own business, working from the home they’d shared. Over the next year and a half, she’d become his most valued ally, his trusted advisor. He’d loved havin
g her at business dinners and on trips. Every decision they’d made had supported their commitment to their growing relationship.

  Or so he’d believed until he’d returned home from work one day to find the house, her home office and his life empty.

  For the first few days after she’d run, he’d imagined turning her delectable ass every shade of red before welcoming her back into his arms and life…where she belonged.

  Then reality had sent in.

  She was never coming back.

  After the anger and stunned disbelief had worn off—an embarrassingly long time later—he’d picked up the pieces of his shattered dreams and had stowed them, and the memory of her, away. Lesson driven home.

  Now he told himself to turn the fuck around and go find Julien and slam his betraying ass against the wall, despite the fact that it was his birthday weekend. The man was no fool. He had known that Sarah was in the room when he’d told Reece he’d procured a lovely sub for an evening of entertainment.

  More than anyone, Julien knew what Reece had been through. After all, he’d been with him the whole miserable way. Together with their friend Kennedy, they’d emptied a fair number of Scotch bottles. But Reece hadn’t moved on. A month later, Julien had grown weary of Reece’s moroseness and had staged an intervention. Julien had said that he’d tracked down Sarah. As he’d dumped expensive booze down the drain, he’d added that she was safe, but that she wanted to be left alone. Afterwards, he’d dragged Reece to the gym, forced him to work on business plans and re-engage in his life.

  By even the harshest of standards, Reece had done well for himself.

  But there was a reason for those sad songs on jukeboxes. Did one ever recover from the shock of losing one’s soul mate?

  She remained in position, gaze cast down, and he couldn’t deny the attraction he still felt. His cock hardened, and he ached to slide inside her warmth.

  To her credit, she’d learnt a few things in the two years since he’d seen her.

  During their time together, he’d repeatedly told her how he wanted to be greeted. Submissively… By her waiting for her Master’s pleasure. She’d always struggled with his request. She had no patience. So she’d either sneak a glance at him, giggle, talk incessantly or shift nervously.

  But tonight she maintained the perfect position. Her forehead was pressed to the floor, and her long brown hair—kissed with sunshine-blonde highlights—had been swept to one side, leaving her nape exposed. Everything about her radiated vulnerability. Tonight she was behaving like the woman he’d always wanted her to be.

  A frisson of jealousy gnawed at his spine. Who the hell had taught her the things she’d refused to learn from him?

  Though he let the minutes drag, she didn’t speak or fidget. Only her shortened breaths betrayed her nerves.

  Truthfully, his silence wasn’t a test for her. He was buying time, figuring out how to react, searching for places to file away his thoughts and reactions. Elation. Devastation. Curiosity. It would be stupid to open old wounds. But a greater, unhealed part wanted to know why the hell she’d left. What had scared her so bad that she hadn’t been able to turn to him?

  “Kneel up.” His command was familiar. Her response was not.

  Her movements were sensual, graceful as she unfolded her body then used abdominal strength to lift herself from the floor.

  She positioned her knees wider than she’d ever been able to. With a gentle shrug, she pulled back her shoulders before linking her hands behind her head. As if she’d done it a thousand times, she shook her head. Her hair fell back from her face, and she met his gaze.

  There was no shock etched between her eyebrows. Instead, her green eyes were open wide with trust.

  She swallowed deeply and said nothing.

  For a minute, he forgot how to breathe. As big and strong a corporate strategist that he was—accustomed to negotiations so tense they made front page news—he had just had his brains scrambled by a woman a bit under five feet tall.

  She continued to look at him without blinking, seeming to offer Reece a glimpse of her soul.

  He scoffed at the ridiculous thought. The man who’d been fanciful enough to believe that kind of romantic crap no longer existed. And the woman in front of him was the reason why. “You knew I’d be at this party?”

  “Yes.”

  “Did you put Julien up to it? Or did he put you up to it?”

  “It’s my fault. I begged, cajoled, pleaded. Blame me.”

  “What the hell do you want, Sarah?”

  She faltered then, looking down at the ground before glancing back at him. But when she spoke, her words had a confidence that had been missing in the past. “To connect. Talk. Explain. Apologize.”

  Silence hung.

  Then after a quick breath, she rushed on. “To scene.”

  “Why?”

  “I’m hoping one night together will help me get over you.”

  He’d been expecting something else. Something more profound. As it was, he rocked back on his heels.

  “I need to convince myself that what we had wasn’t as good as I remember.”

  Reece searched her face, looking for…what? The truth? A hidden agenda? An answer to the dozens of unresolved questions?

  “I’m hoping you’ll indulge me with a beating, Sir.”

  Her courtesy was new, too. In all the time they’d been together, she’d called him Mr McRae at work and Reece at home. Even in a scene, she’d been unable to force herself to address him as Sir.

  It wasn’t until after she’d left that he had realized they hadn’t been as close to his image of the perfect union as he would have liked.

  “I’ve never found anyone like you, Sir.”

  “You’ve been looking?” The sense of betrayal that had simmered for years churned to a low boil. He now knew better than to stay near any woman who ignited that kind of emotion in him.

  “Not consciously. No.”

  “But?” he prompted.

  “I’ve compared everyone else to you. How could I not?” She hesitated, as if reluctant to say more. “I’ve never connected with anyone like I did with you. No one compares with you. I’m…frustrated, I guess.”

  “If nothing else, I owe you an explanation,” she said, her voice strong as well as melodious and mysterious. She took a deep breath. “And I need to apologize.”

  “Save your breath. I won’t accept it.” Not now.

  Order your copy here

  About the Author

  Born in northern England and raised in the Wild West, Sierra Cartwright pens books that are as untamed as the Rockies she calls home.

  She’s an award-winning, multi-published writer who wrote her first book at age nine and hasn’t stopped since.

  Sierra invites you to share the complex journey of love and desire, of surrender and commitment. Her own journey has taught her that trusting takes guts and courage, and her work is a celebration for everyone who is willing to take that risk.

  Email: sierracartwright@hotmail.com

  Sierra loves to hear from readers. You can find her contact information, website and author biography at http://www.totallybound.com.

  Also by Sierra Cartwright

  Her Two Doms

  Mastered: With this Collar

  Mastered: On His Terms

  Mastered: Over the Line

  Mastered: In His Cuffs

  Mastered: For the Sub

  Mastered: In the Den

  Bonds: Crave

  Bonds: Claim

  Bonds: Command

  The Donovan Dynasty: Bind

  Homecoming: Unbound Surrender

  Night of the Senses: Voyeur

  Bound Brits: S&M 101

  Halloween Heart Throbs: Walk on the Wild Side

  Naughty Nibbles: Fed Up

 

 

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