Sierra Cartwright

Book Three: Over The Line

Mastered 3: Over The Line

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Mastered Series

He can’t say he wasn’t warned!

From the moment he’s cautioned to avoid the submissive who snares his attention, Dom Michael Dayton is intrigued. With her tight dress, flowing hair and honest dialogue, what could be more perfect than a few hours together?

Sydney Wallace fears only one thing – being tied down. She lives for adventure and fun, including the occasional BDSM party. By always scening with different Doms, she avoids emotional entanglements that might complicate her life. A man who owns a ranch and has roots deep into the soil is definitely not the kind of Dom she wants to play with.Sydney has never met anyone as complex as Master Michael Dayton. From the moment he issues his first command, she knows he’s different. He watches her reactions, sees what she wants, and unselfishly gives her what she needs. Getting involved with a man like him would be the biggest risk of her life, crossing over all the lines she’s drawn to protect her way of life.

After the first night together, Michael realizes he should have heeded the warning. But it may already be too late!

Reader Advisory: This book can be read as a standalone, but is also part of the Mastered series.


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Legacy covers: MASTERED Series

Winner of Best BDSM


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Chapter One

Michael Dayton caught a whiff of spiced vanilla, and he turned his head to find the source.

The view of the woman passing by walloped him. He only managed a brief look at her face, not enough to make out her eye colour, but on a primal level he noted the softness of her mouth and the sexy gloss that accented her lips.

She kept moving in the direction of the fire pit. And like the male that he was, he didn’t look away. How could he? She was tiny, compact, with blonde hair tumbling over her shoulders, the strands an untamed riotous mass. She walked with determination, her hips swaying seductively as she navigated the uneven flagstone patio. Her grace was even more remarkable given the unyielding leather dress and her crazy-high stilettos. Even though the shoes added extra height, she didn’t look tall. In fact, he doubted she’d reach his chin.

A need to protect flared in him. The sensation was as unexpected as it was unwelcome.

On occasion, he played with women at Damien’s home, known as the Den. Michael had been sexually attracted to many of them. But he’d only had this kind of visceral reaction one other time in his thirty years. He’d ignored his intuition and the warnings of others and had ended up married within three months.

A few years later, he and his bride had been in court, and he’d spent most of his inheritance to hold onto the Eagle’s Bend Ranch. The two thousand acres had been in his family for over eighty years, and if he had lost it, he was certain his father would haunt him from the grave. The lessons Michael had learnt while rebuilding his life and fortune had made him harder, smarter and more wary.

He adjusted his cowboy hat and continued to look at the blonde. She had joined a group of people near the fire. Her figure-hugging dress did as much to arouse him as nudity would have.

Until this moment, he hadn’t missed having a woman in his bedroom, tied to his rustic four-poster bed, arms and legs spread wide as she lay there for him, willing and waiting. Last night he’d gone to bed alone after masturbating to ease the day’s tension. Tonight, he hoped things would be different. He was glad he hadn’t simply tossed away the invitation to the Den’s solstice party. Although, he admitted, if he took this woman home, he’d wish for a longer night rather than a longer day.

As if sensing his perusal, she glanced over her shoulder. They made eye contact for less than five seconds, but it was enough, more than enough for him.

He heard someone say, “She’s trouble.”

Michael blinked and reluctantly turned towards the newcomer, Gregorio, the Den’s caretaker.

“Don’t go there,” Gregorio advised, coming to a stop in front of him.

But Michael was already thinking about her, despite the fact she didn’t resemble the women who generally caught his eye. He preferred a more rounded, feminine form””a woman who could withstand the rigours of ranch life.