Brand (The Donovan Dynasty)

by Sierra Cartwright

  He dropped his legs from the windowsill and stood, pushing the guest chair back into position.

  Despite the hour, he crossed to the sideboard and poured himself a jigger of Julien Bonds’ whiskey. As he did, he admitted the truth. Sofia McBride wasn’t the problem. He was.

  Ever since he’d moved onto the Running Wind as a child, there’d been something fucked up inside him.

  His dad hadn’t visited often, but every time he had, he’d brought Cade into this office, sat him down and very seriously recited his obligations to the land, to the family line.

  It hadn’t been until he was older that he’d understood everything. Why his mother cried herself to sleep, why she stayed even though she hated living on the ranch in isolation, why she vanished when the Colonel visited.

  The night he’d turned ten, after an awkward dinner in town with his parents, he’d come into the office on a night much like this, after a storm. His father had been sitting in near darkness, with only the desk lamp on.

  Jeffrey Donovan had had a drink in front of him, had said he’d fucked up a lot of things in his life, taken his eye off what was important. He’d warned his son not to do the same.

  Cade had been expecting the lecture about sex, not that he would have listened to his old man about it. Everyone knew Cade was a bastard, that his father had knocked up his mother and never married her.

  But Jeffrey had never preached, at least not to him. Instead, he’d told him to grab life by the balls and squeeze every drop of excitement he could out of it.

  Jeffrey’s visits had gotten further apart after that. And Cade had never known why. Maybe because he was busy with three legitimate kids and a high-society wife?

  The less time he’d had available, the more determined Cade had become to impress his father. He’d started competing on the rodeo circuit, and his poor mother had hooked up the horse trailer and driven hundreds of miles and stayed overnight more times than he could count in rundown motels.

  He’d figured if his dad was proud of him, he’d come around more. To his credit, Jeffrey had done his best to attend Cade’s events.

  From broncs, he’d moved onto bulls and motorcycles then cars, spending the money his father threw at him for anything with a motor. That was something else he and Stormy fought over. Money, and the amount Cade received. She told Jeffrey that he couldn’t make up for his absence with dollars and gifts. There were always fights, Cade remembered. Screaming. Passion. Slammed doors. Tires spinning on the truck as Jeffrey roared toward the exit and Stormy sobbed.

  Over the years, Cade had taken bigger and bigger risks. He’d bought his first car before he’d even had a driver’s license.

  The first time he’d raced, he’d done it illegally—a drag race down a backcountry road not far from Waltham.

  Later that winter, someone had ratted them out to the local police. Cade had been caught and hauled to jail. Since his father had been out of the state on business, the Colonel had collected him. He’d said nothing other than Cade needed to bring honor, not disgrace to the family name. As far as he knew, it had ever shown up on his record.

  His grandfather had left him in front of the gate, and his mother had been waiting on the porch after he’d done his version of the walk of shame.

  The event hadn’t stopped his racing, but it had encouraged him to channel it in a legal direction. To his mother’s horror, he’d started hauling his own stock car to the local dirt track and fearlessly pitting himself against drivers twice his age.

  He’d ended up with a broken leg when he was seventeen.

  That had slowed him down long enough to pick up a new hobby, restoring old cars. It was something his father had enjoyed doing as well. To Cade, it seemed his old man had spent more time at the ranch once they’d started tinkering on them together.

  “Is this a private party?”

  Without taking a drink, he put down his glass and turned toward Sofia.

  The shirt he’d given her was so long on her that it hung past mid-thigh. She’d rolled up the sleeves and had only fastened a couple of the buttons.

  He’d rarely had women out here. None had spent the night, so having her walk in startled him, but not in an unpleasant way. “Sorry I disturbed you,” Cade said.

  “Mind if I join you?”

  He did. He liked his solitude, hated to be bothered when he was ruminating. Ruminating? Even in his own head the word seemed ludicrous. He was being morose, nothing any nobler than that. But he didn’t want to be an ass and say it out loud, especially since she’d been so accommodating.

  Without an invitation, she came in and perched on the windowsill where he’d had his feet propped. “Did something wake you?”

  “Nothing out of the ordinary.”

  “Do you do this frequently?”

  Now he knew why he didn’t invite women to stay. And maybe he shouldn’t have let this one sleep in his room. As soon as that thought formed, he dismissed it. Sofia wasn’t a typical woman. She was a determined, resourceful one. There had been no question in his mind that he’d wanted her in his bed. “More than I’d like, yes.”

  “Ranch business?”

  He picked up his glass and went to his chair. He put his bare feet on the desk and regarded her. “Sometimes.”

  “Tonight?”

  “You’re being—”

  “Direct.” She grinned. “The word is direct.”

  With the force of a combine, she cut through his defenses.

  Over the next few seconds, her smile faded. “I know it’s not about me.”

  “What in the hell? No.” He leaned forward to slam the glass on the wood.

  “I watched you for a while before interrupting. And I went over everything. I know you want to talk about me being a brat—”

  “Sofia, that’s not—”

  “I know that,” she reaffirmed. “Everything between us was fine…the sex. The shower. But there was something in your eyes…” She met his gaze again. “I thought I was being fanciful, making it up. I’m not, though, am I? It’s still there.”

  “I warned you to stay away.”

  “Yeah. You did. Brats aren’t always well behaved, I’m guessing.”

  Despite himself, he gave her a half-smile.

  “I’m still here.”

  “You should go back to bed.” He picked up the whiskey then took a sip and waited for the liquid amber to warm its way down.

  “Still here.”

  “Doesn’t surprise me.” He rolled the glass between his palms.

  She eased herself from the windowsill and moved toward him.

  “Sofia.” The word was a growl, a warning, a plea. “Don’t.”

  She sat on his desk, crowding his space, only inches away. “Whatever it is, the night makes it worse.”

  “Does it?”

  “That’s when my birth father would come home, sometimes in drunken rages.”

  Now he wanted to soothe. Men were made to protect those they loved, not make them live in fear.

  “During the day I could go to school, pretend everything was wonderful. At night, there really was a monster, and he would come out.”

  He heard no self-pity in her tone, only the harsh reality no child should endure. Not just in the BDSM they’d shared, he admired her strength.

  “It took us all years to learn how to sleep peacefully, without an eye on the door, jumping at every little sound.”

  “I’m sorry you went through that.”

  “We got closer because of it, the three of us. The day he abandoned… Well, Mom didn’t really know at the time that he was gone, that he’d stay gone. It’s her I admire. She moved us to Corpus Christi, and she eventually met John McBride.” She had a small smile. “I learned some men were hard workers, that they gave a damn, that they could be trusted. He took in another man’s children and helped provide for them. When I look back, that’s what I remember. The good.”

  “It’s not always that simple.”

  “No? Tell me
about your dad.”

  This was a thin, dangerous place for her to tread. “You should go back to bed.”

  For a moment, he thought she was going to obey. She slipped off the desk and went toward the door. But instead of continuing through it, she stopped. She took a framed picture from the wall then turned to face him. “Is this your dad?”

  He should spank her, distract her, make her put it back, anything, including making her go away. Should. But he didn’t.

  “Your eyes are like his. Yours and Connor’s both.”

  The photograph was one of Jeffrey sitting behind this same desk. His grandfather, the Colonel, was in the guest chair. Cade guessed his father to be about nineteen, maybe twenty. The oldest son about to come into his inheritance and obligations, a symbolic transfer of power from one generation to the next. William was smiling for a change, his chest big and proud. The future looked bright for the Donovan dynasty. And it might have even been the same summer he’d met Cade’s mother.

  “Do you ever let anyone in?” she asked.

  “No.”

  “Whatever it is, it’s not made better by harboring it.”

  “There are things you can’t understand.”

  “Are there?” She tipped her head to the side. “You may be a Donovan and all that entails. You may be larger than life to some. You may be a badass Dom. You may have cut yourself off from the world. But there’s still a world out there. All of us have pain. All of us suffer in some way. And a whole hell of a lot of times, there are people we can gain strength from. A burden shared is a burden halved.”

  As if anything could undo the past, bring his father back. “Do you really believe those platitudes?”

  “Yeah. A long talk and a piece of my mother’s chocolate cake helps a lot of things.”

  Chocolate cake and conversation? “Are you trying to be insulting?”

  “No.” She winced. “That was never my intention. I only wanted to help.”

  Now he felt like an ass.

  “I apologize for intruding.” She put the picture back then took a moment to make sure it was perfectly straight. “No, actually, that’s a lie. I don’t apologize at all. Come back to bed.”

  “I’ll be there soon.”

  She moved toward him in her bare feet and barely covered body.

  Since he knew she was going to be persistent and because he was experiencing an unwelcome twinge of remorse, he dropped his legs to the floor.

  She pushed his chair back from the desk then straddled him. This woman might have been sexually inexperienced, but she was braver, bolder than any other woman he’d been with. His remoteness kept others at bay. But it seemed to beckon her.

  With infinite gentleness that was stronger than anything he’d known, she placed one palm in the middle of his chest, over his heart.

  It was just the two of them, in the nighttime silence, no words needed. This was a form of intimacy foreign to him. It made him nervous. It gave him peace.

  In all of his relationships, he’d been in total control. Even as a kid, he’d rejected his mother’s comfort. None of that seemed to matter to the persistent Sofia.

  “Come to bed,” she repeated.

  Denim separated them, but his cock responded when she rocked forward to hug him.

  And now he didn’t know what in the hell to do.

  In a sexy move consistent with a more experienced woman, she gyrated her hips, stroking herself over him. That got through to him. “Your pussy is going to be so sore you won’t want sex for weeks.”

  She pulled back and looked at him. “Big words, Cade.”

  “That bratting conversation is coming,” he vowed.

  “Can it wait until after you put your dick in me?”

  “I’m not made of granite, woman.”

  “No?” She moved herself over his dick. “Feels like it to me.”

  He shifted abruptly, keeping his hands on her waist so that she didn’t fall, but he put her on her feet. “Go.”

  She waited for him.

  On the way out of the door, he glanced at the picture of his father. All the guilt was still there, gnawing at his stomach, at his mind. But for now, its intensity had been turned down a notch.

  She bent at the waist and flipped up the hem of the shirt, showing him that she wasn’t wearing panties.

  “Fuck me,” he swore softly.

  “That’s the idea.”

  Before he could grab her, she scampered away toward the stairs.

  He wasn’t sure where Loopy had come from, but she was there, barking happily in a way he’d never heard before.

  With a laugh, Sofia took the first few stairs two at a time.

  He shut off the desk lamp then followed her.

  Halfway up, he found the shirt he’d been wearing. He scooped it up. Despite himself, he held it to his nose, inhaling the sweetness that was Sofia, strength wrapped in femininity. Frustrating, beautiful woman.

  She was already in bed when he entered the room. She’d left a nightstand light burning, and it created just a small amount of ambiance.

  Her hands were curled around the iron headboard and her legs were parted in silent invitation.

  He dropped the shirt that she’d discarded then shucked his jeans. Loopy snatched them up and took them into the closet where she most often slept.

  Cade grabbed a condom from the diminishing stack and tossed it toward her. It landed on her belly. “Put it on me.”

  After releasing the headboard, she picked up the square packet and crawled across the mattress.

  “Did you spend all your time this evening reading about submission?”

  She shook her head and her hair fell in an enticing disarray. “Pictures.”

  Her back dipped slightly, making her rear stick out.

  He helped her off the bed. Without being told, she knelt in front of him. She ripped apart the packet and pulled out the condom. Her innocence was evident in the way she studied it, as if trying to ascertain how to put it on him.

  The contradiction between this side of her and the woman who’d climbed into his lap was startling. He couldn’t allow himself to forget just how little experience she had, especially with men like him.

  She finally placed the latex on his cockhead and rolled it down.

  He picked her up and tossed her on the bed. She squealed and Loopy came to see what was going on.

  “It’s okay,” he told the animal. “Back to bed.”

  She cocked her head to the side.

  “Bed,” he repeated.

  After standing there for a moment, she finally lost interest and wandered back to the closet.

  “Where were we?” He climbed onto the mattress and forced Sofia’s thighs apart. “Put your legs on my shoulders.”

  She did, and that tilted her pelvis.

  “Now lift your ass a little.”

  Once she’d pressed down on his shoulders, the position left her hips suspended and opened her for him. He licked her pussy, more gently this time since he could see her flesh was swollen and red.

  She moaned, turning her head to the side.

  “Hold on to the headboard. Consider my order to be your bonds.”

  “Yes…”

  Even though she had sassy, bratty moments, when things were important, she was amazingly obedient.

  He dampened a finger then slid it inside, moving it, getting her wetter. Then he pulled it out and eased it inside her ass.

  She tightened her muscles.

  “Give yourself to me.”

  So, so sweetly, she did.

  With his finger knuckle-deep in her rectum, he licked her to climax.

  She tightened her thigh muscles on his shoulders, leveraging herself a little as her ass squeezed his finger.

  Then he moved her so that he was between her legs, cockhead at her pussy entrance.

  “You’re such a great lover,” she told him.

  He grinned, not having expected a compliment from the pretty little sub. He plunged into her he
at.

  “Please let me wrap my arms around you.”

  One reason he liked dominant sex was that he could keep the woman somewhat distant from him. Sofia, though, he suddenly wanted close. “Yes.”

  She held on to him, hard, tight, and he pulled out to sink in again.

  Without his bidding, she linked her feet behind his back, inviting him deeper. “Yeah.”

  Everything he offered, she accepted. And she demanded more.

  “Cade!”

  “Come,” he whispered in ear.

  With a whimper, she did.

  Her pleasure fed his. Even though he hadn’t been sure that he could actually ejaculate again, he did, as if it were their first time.

  When he was done, he had to fight not to collapse on her. He was finally, totally exhausted.

  He left the bed long enough to clean up then returned to her.

  Instead of putting the shirt back on, she’d remained nude. The idea of being skin-to-skin appealed. He climbed in and pulled her against him, wrapping his body completely around hers.

  She reached for his hand and didn’t stop her movements until their fingers were intertwined.

  Not for the first time, he recognized how utterly determined she was, not just to be with him, but to ensure a connection.

  She wriggled backward and tugged harder on his hand, as if making sure he wouldn’t leave her again.

  And he wasn’t even tempted.

  * * * *

  “Bacon?”

  Sofia looked over from where she stood in front of the stove. “I figured you had a lot of work to do today and would appreciate a cooked meal. I hope that’s okay?”

  Jesus.

  He’d awakened suddenly a few minutes ago, slightly disoriented. Part of him had known he wasn’t supposed to be alone in the bed, but since he’d never had a woman sleep with him, it had taken a while for reality and dreams to merge.

  Memories had bowled into him. Sofia’s arrival yesterday, her foray into submission in the barn, the storm, the image of her in the turret window, the way he’d thoroughly dominated her, the late night discussion in his study, the tender sex in his bed and the trusting way she’d pressed herself to him in the early morning hours.

  He’d wondered if she’d left, and he’d gone to the window to look. A stupid grin had plastered itself to his face when he’d seen that her SUV was still there, covered in leaves, oleander blossoms, twigs, water.