Bind

by Sierra Cartwright

  “I know this is unexpected, ridiculous, outrageous…” She closed her eyes, then opened them again and locked her unblinking her gaze on him. “We’re not even on a first-name basis.”

  “But?”

  Her words had been jammed together, rushed, unpolished. While she’d been speaking with Thompson and with him, about the coffee, her tone had been light, not forced. Now, tension wove through her voice. Connor had no idea where she was going, but he sure as hell expected it would be interesting, suspected he’d be willing to do anything she suggested, as long as she kept looking at him like that, as if he were hope, promise, threat and redemption all in one. Fucking heady stuff.

  After a short breath, she rushed on, “Will you marry me?”

  Chapter Three

  Of all the things he’d been expecting her to say, that wasn’t it. Connor wasn’t sure he’d ever been more stunned. He took great pride in being prepared for all eventualities. He thought in terms of flow charts. Each thought led to a different result. Since he enjoyed considering various possibilities, he was rarely caught off guard, and she’d managed it twice.

  Silence hung in a whisper, an expectation.

  Possible responses crowded his mind. But only one mattered. “You have no idea what you’re asking.”

  “I’m sure you’re right. It was forward of me.” She pushed back her chair and stood. She crossed to the window and stared out with her arms wrapped around herself. “But I’m hoping you’ll be interested enough to hear me out.”

  “Go on.” He remained where he was, still leaning back in his chair, considering.

  She turned back to face him. “I don’t want you thinking I’m behaving impulsively. On the contrary. I’ve spent many months searching for answers. The idea took shape overnight, and I spent most of today thinking it through, lining out objections, and ultimately, I think it’s a solid idea. That said, if you want to schedule a different time to talk, I understand. Mr. Thompson mentioned you have other appointments.”

  “You’re here now.” He watched the battle rage across her face. A slight frown became pursed lips. No doubt it had cost her something to show up at his office uninvited. Earlier she’d mentioned a sleepless night, not that there was any trace of it on her beautiful face.

  “BHI’s communications division is in serious trouble.”

  He knew that. Before he asked for a definition, she added, “Three consecutive quarters of losses.”

  Which was worse than he’d surmised. “Mostly from the retail stores,” he guessed. “People buy their gadgets in different ways than they did years ago.”

  She didn’t deny that, but she didn’t say he was right, either.

  “Since you don’t own the land under most of the stores, you can’t win.”

  “Regardless, we own some patents. We do some things really well and there’s plenty of potential.”

  All of which was true. He waited, wondering how this had led her to the idea of marriage.

  “Options should be considered. Consolidation, mergers, a sale, acquisitions, infusion of cash, shake-up in leadership.” She paused. “That’s where you come in. I need your brain.”

  “Why mine?”

  “You approached my father. It’s clear you’ve already seen the possibilities. You’re smart and aggressive, brilliant even.”

  “That’s flattering—”

  “As my husband, you’d have a seat on the board.” She’d dug out the corporation’s bylaws and confirmed that. To be certain, she had a corporate attorney going through the document as well, looking for pitfalls. “You could exert influence. I have years of insight I can offer you. It could be a marriage in name only. I’d be willing to negotiate a prenuptial agreement with you that we’d both sign. We’d naturally include a predetermined divorce date. Of course, we would keep our finances separate. We don’t even have to live together.”

  He took it all in. “Very generous of you.” In his most considered way, he allowed the tension to stretch. “And what do I get out of it?”

  She lowered her hands to her sides. “I’m not sure what you mean. I’ve already said you stand to make a tremendous amount of money. And I’m sure those patents are very attractive.”

  “It’s not all about financial considerations.”

  “You’re a businessman,” she replied. “This is an unprecedented chance for you to influence BHI’s decisions on potential mergers with Donovan Worldwide. We’re not just talking communications. Really, on any decision, we need you, myself, my mother and only one other person. We’re only talking about a year, maybe two at the outside. And like I said, I’ll make it as easy for you as possible. You’d be free to live your life as you do now.”

  He noticed that the shakiness had left her voice. She was now a woman in control again, and more, someone with what she believed was a solid business proposition. Lara was clearly operating from her strength. It appealed—she appealed—to him on a number of levels. But her suggestion would never work for him. “I have a different view of marriage than you do.”

  “Oh?”

  “I’d want a few things from you in return. Please sit back down.” His words weren’t a polite request.

  Seeming to recognize the authority in his words, she complied without hesitation. He considered that a positive first step. “Before you persist with this idea, there are some things you need to know.”

  “I’m listening.”

  “If we were to get married, we would live together as man and wife.”

  “I’ve already said that wouldn’t be necessary.”

  “And I’m saying it will be.” He picked up a pen and threaded it through his fingers. “And that point wouldn’t be negotiable. I’d expect you to move into my loft.”

  “That seems like a lot of effort. I’d only be moving back out again.”

  “Non-negotiable,” he reasserted. “You can accept this term and keep the conversation moving forward, or I can thank you for coming to see me.”

  “This isn’t how a negotiation works,” she protested.

  “You want something. I’m telling you what I expect in return.”

  “You stand to be the biggest winner here,” she said. “I think you can afford to be a bit more magnanimous.”

  “I’m afraid that’s not something I’m known for. You’d do well to remember that.”

  She opened her mouth as if to speak but closed it again almost right away.

  “I will not have speculation about either of us or the nature of our relationship.”

  “Meaning?”

  “You won’t be dating other men,” he said bluntly.

  She nodded. “As long as you’re discreet, I’m okay with you maintaining your friendships.”

  “There would be no cheating in this relationship. For either of us.”

  “The hypothetical relationship,” she corrected, feeling a bit breathless.

  He was getting to her, unnerving her, giving him the position of strength. Couldn’t be better. “And we would sleep together.”

  “I…” She cleared her throat.

  “Let me be more specific. We would fuck.”

  Her breath caught.

  “Often.” He dropped the pen and leaned toward her. “Is that a problem? Hypothetically?”

  “No.” She met his gaze. And he heard hesitation in her tone when she added, “None.”

  “Hypothetically, what do you know about BDSM?”

  “Some,” she admitted. Then her eyes widened. “Are you into it?”

  “Into it? I wouldn’t say that.” He waited, choosing his words with great care, moving slowly. It was crucial she understood this and what it meant. He knew that might take time, and he was willing to be as patient as required. “I’m a Dominant. It isn’t something I’m into. It’s part of who I am. A part of my personality.”

  “And you’d expect…” She trailed off.

  “That you’d be my submissive?” he finished. “Yes.”

  She started again. “Yo
u’d want…”

  “I would.”

  Her earlier poise had worn off, and her breathing was ragged. This was what he liked. Women who were honest. “Tell me what you know about it,” he prompted.

  She stalled before saying, “This doesn’t seem to be the right time or place for this discussion.”

  “I’m happy to move it to my house. Or yours.”

  “How about a coffee shop or restaurant?” she suggested. “Where we’re not totally alone.”

  He shook his head. “You’d be free to leave at any time if you’re uncomfortable, or to ask me to go.”

  “On second thought, your office is fine.”

  “So tell me what your understanding is.”

  “I know what the initials mean.”

  When she’d first arrived, her voice had been confident, made so by her rehearsed speech. But now… Her words were more carefully spaced, and her voice was a bit higher pitched, as if her vocal cords were stressed. She was real, more open, perhaps feeling a bit vulnerable.

  “And I’ve had a little experience, well, maybe not what you’d consider experience.”

  He waited.

  “I dated a guy who used a flogger on me. Once he used a blindfold. He tied my wrists together with some rope.”

  He slowly sat back. “Anything else?”

  “A spanking, over his knees.” She fidgeted, a trait he found charming.

  “What were your thoughts about the experience?”

  She finished the coffee that had to be cold by now. He let her stall for as long as she needed.

  “The whole thing?” she asked finally. “Or just the spanking?”

  “The whole thing.”

  “It was fine.”

  “Those are damning words.”

  “To be honest, I was disappointed. I didn’t understand what all the fuss was about. I liked the blindfold and having my hands secured, but the flogger damn well hurt. If there was supposed to be any pleasure, I never experienced it. And when I was over his knee, I’m afraid I had an attack of the giggles.”

  Another answer Connor hadn’t been expecting.

  After sliding the mug back onto the coaster, she met his gaze. “Maybe I was hoping for something more. When he spanked me hard enough to stop the giggles, it freaking stung.”

  “I imagine it was supposed to,” he said wryly.

  “Other than feeling the pain, I came away with nothing. Afterward we had sex, but—” Abruptly, she stopped talking.

  “We have to talk openly.”

  “Even if it’s embarrassing?”

  “Especially then.”

  “How did I know you were going to say that?” She crossed her arms over her chest and held onto her shoulders. Then, obviously realizing she was betraying herself, she lowered her arms. “I expected more from the sex, I guess, but it was the same old thing.” Her face was a lovely shade of pink. “Missionary. Over too soon. After that relationship, I dated another guy and things were… I’m trying to be polite.”

  “Go on.”

  “I guess the best word for it is predictable.”

  “Boring?”

  “Boring,” she repeated. “I asked him if we could experiment a little. When I told him what I wanted, he tried. He tied me up, but the knots were so loose that I could slip my hands out. It sort of lost something when I had to work to keep them in place. He placed a tie over my eyes, and that was as close as he got to a blindfold. When I asked him to spank me, he untied me and told me I was too extreme for him. He seemed really disturbed by it, and I never saw him again. The last guy I dated…well, let’s say there was no chemistry.”

  He wasn’t sure what to think of a man who had a willing woman in his arms and didn’t attempt to give her what she wanted, whether he was into it or not. “I can guarantee that I will be willing to at least talk about anything you want to try. We’ll have plenty of discussions about that.” Connor saw her shudder. From thrill, he hoped. “Have you ever been to a club? A play party?”

  She shook her head and he caught the glitter of an earring. For a wild, wicked moment, he wanted to see his initials there, in diamonds. “Is there anything you wanted to experience?”

  She hesitated, and he waited. Finally, she tipped back her head. “When I masturbate, I think about a man’s belt.”

  “I think we could arrange that.”

  “I might hate it. It could ruin the fantasy.”

  “It could,” he agreed. “And it could make it even better. Anything else?”

  “You’re asking a lot of questions, Mr. Donovan. Tell me about you, what it is you think I need to know.”

  “As I mentioned, BDSM isn’t something I’m merely into. Kinky sex like you’re suggesting is fine. Awesome, in fact. I definitely enjoy it. I’d love to see your body spread wide, held open for me. But I see that as an extension of a relationship rather than replacing it.”

  “I’m a bit confused. I thought it was all about the tying up and beating.”

  “To some people, it is. And that’s fine. To me, it’s much, much more. Tell me, do you consider yourself compassionate?”

  She blinked. “Of course.”

  “Loyal to your family and friends?”

  “Naturally.”

  “Someone who likes chocolate?”

  “Adores it,” she said, softly, as if it were a confession. “And pizza.”

  That little bit of information, he hung onto. “They’re part of who you are.”

  “Yes.”

  “The D/s dynamic is the same thing to me. I can’t separate it from my personality. Nurturer. Protector. Dominant.”

  “That sounds a bit scary.”

  “It doesn’t have to be. In fact, I’d insist you have a safe word, a way to immediately stop anything we were doing. You’d also have a word to slow things down, whether to give you a break or to reconnect emotionally or just to talk about how you’re doing.”

  “I’m not used to hearing men use the word emotional.”

  “It’s part of a real relationship,” he said. “I may not be as good at recognizing my emotions as you are yours, but I do have them, I promise you.”

  She gave him a soft smile, and he recognized that they’d had a small connection. He—they—could build from there.

  She looked out of the window for a few seconds, in silence. When she glanced back, a thoughtful frown was burrowed between her dark eyebrows. “So if we were to marry… You’d expect…” She squirmed a little. “You’d want to spank me? Blindfold me? Tie me up?”

  “All that, yes. We’d talk about which you were comfortable with, find your limits. But it goes beyond that for me.”

  “Beyond it, how?”

  So she was curious. Considering it, at least. “I’d expect that, while we were married, you would be my wife, but also my submissive.”

  “Isn’t that synonymous with servant? Slave? Yes-man? I’m not a puppet for anyone,” she said, scooting her chair back a little, putting distance between them. “I can’t be. I refuse to be.”

  “I wouldn’t expect that.” He kept his voice easy, moderated. “It’s clear that you’re intelligent as well as brave. I wouldn’t want anything less.”

  “Do you ever have…I don’t know how to put this. Regular sex?”

  “Regular?”

  “You know. Wham-bam. Wipe up with a tissue and you’re done?”

  “No,” he said bluntly.

  “Not ever? No quickies? Something where we can just get it over with?”

  “Lara, I’m not sure what kind of sex you’ve been having, but I promise you, you won’t want to just get it over with.”

  “That sounds a little overconfident.”

  He smiled. “I don’t think so. I will be so focused on you that you’ll want it to go on and on.”

  She laced her fingers in her lap, as if unsure what to do with them. “It’s clear that I don’t have any idea what it would mean to be a submissive or whether I’d like it or not. Like you said, whether it’s p
art of my personality.”

  “We’ll also talk about that, all of it. I’ll let you know my expectations, requirements.”

  “And what about mine?”

  He took her, her challenge—her tilted chin and narrowed eyes—very seriously. He recognized she was a novice, and fuck, he had to admit that it appealed to him. He hadn’t had a serious relationship since his father had passed. Until Lara, he hadn’t even been attracted to anyone.

  Recently, he’d gone to a local club with his friends Reece and Sarah. Julien Bonds had flown in to meet them. While Connor had enjoyed being there, he hadn’t scened. Without a relationship, it was sexy, but not significant.

  Watching Reece flog Sarah had made him restless. The two had seemed unaware of anyone else, and the way Reece had interacted with her, even carrying her to a comfort couch for her aftercare, had spoken of an intimacy that was missing in his own life. “No doubt you will have needs,” he agreed finally. “I would do anything in my power to meet them.”

  “That doesn’t sound very Dom-like.”

  He grinned. “Be that as it may, taking care of a sub gives me fulfillment.” When she didn’t say anything, he continued, “To me, D/s relationships are different from others on many levels, and they require tremendous trust. I will work to ensure that I deserve your trust by honoring my word, letting you know what to expect and never taking you further than you’re comfortable with or have agreed to go.”

  After pausing for a moment, he added, “I will be the Dom you need, the Dom you require, the Dom you want. In return, I expect you to accord me your respect and utter loyalty, at home as well as in public. I don’t anticipate that you’d agree with me on all matters, but I would demand that we handle disagreements discreetly. Details of our relationship would remain between us. Always. As part of our prenuptial, you would agree that there would be no tell-all book. No interviews with the press.”

  “If you even think such a thing, Mr. Donovan—”

  “I leave nothing to chance, Ms. Bertrand, not when it comes to my family. I expect you’re the same way and that’s why you approached me.”

  She gave a nod, slow, as if reluctant.