Brenna's Bondage [Portraits of Submission 2] (Siren Publishing Sensations) Read online

  Portraits of Submission 2

  Brenna’s Bondage

  When registered nurse Brenna Rutherford is compelled by forces she can’t understand to take home an erotic painting from an estate sale, she discovers it’s actually a portal to an alternate universe. Once there, she’s forced to become a sex slave to princes Jaxon and Parker, but quickly gives her heart to them as well as her body.

  Jaxon and Parker are descended from one of the true kings of Ashdown. They belong to an elite group of princes who use the magick of the erotic paintings discovered centuries ago to lure women into their world for their unique sexual perversions. But as they take what is their birthright from Brenna, each man loses his heart to her in the process.

  When Brenna’s maid disappears, Brenna, Jaxon and Parker become unwilling participants in a plot to frame Brenna for the maid’s murder. When they realize the threat originated from their own bloodline, all three are in danger.

  Genre: BDSM, Fantasy, Ménage a Trois/Quatre

  Length: 40,292 words

  BRENNA’S BONDAGE

  Portraits of Submission 2

  Tara Rose

  SIREN SENSATIONS

  Siren Publishing, Inc.

  www.SirenPublishing.com

  ABOUT THE E-BOOK YOU HAVE PURCHASED: Your non-refundable purchase of this e-book allows you to only ONE LEGAL copy for your own personal reading on your own personal computer or device. You do not have resell or distribution rights without the prior written permission of both the publisher and the copyright owner of this book. This book cannot be copied in any format, sold, or otherwise transferred from your computer to another through upload to a file sharing peer to peer program, for free or for a fee, or as a prize in any contest. Such action is illegal and in violation of the U.S. Copyright Law. Distribution of this e-book, in whole or in part, online, offline, in print or in any way or any other method currently known or yet to be invented, is forbidden. If you do not want this book anymore, you must delete it from your computer.

  WARNING: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000.

  If you find a Siren-BookStrand e-book being sold or shared illegally, please let us know at

  [email protected]

  A SIREN PUBLISHING BOOK

  IMPRINT: Siren Sensations

  BRENNA’S BONDAGE

  Copyright © 2015 Tara Rose

  E-book ISBN: 978-1-63259-134-0

  First E-book Publication: March 2015

  Cover design by Harris Channing

  All art and logo copyright © 2015 by Siren Publishing, Inc.

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED: This literary work may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, including electronic or photographic reproduction, in whole or in part, without express written permission.

  All characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is strictly coincidental.

  PUBLISHER

  Siren Publishing, Inc.

  www.SirenPublishing.com

  Letter to Readers

  Dear Readers,

  If you have purchased this copy of Brenna’s Bondage by Tara Rose from BookStrand.com or its official distributors, thank you. Also, thank you for not sharing your copy of this book.

  Regarding E-book Piracy

  This book is copyrighted intellectual property. No other individual or group has resale rights, auction rights, membership rights, sharing rights, or any kind of rights to sell or to give away a copy of this book.

  The author and the publisher work very hard to bring our paying readers high-quality reading entertainment.

  This is Tara Rose’s livelihood. It’s fair and simple. Please respect Tara Rose’s right to earn a living from her work.

  Amanda Hilton, Publisher

  www.SirenPublishing.com

  www.BookStrand.com

  DEDICATION

  To Rebecca Joyce and Honor James. Thank you for encouraging me to follow my heart and write this series.

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Dedication

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  About the Author

  BRENNA’S BONDAGE

  Portraits of Submission 2

  TARA ROSE

  Copyright © 2015

  Chapter One

  Brenna Rutherford hated detours. It wasn’t that she couldn’t use her GPS to find her way around. It was the inconvenience of not being able to drive down familiar roads. Ever since Mark’s death, she found that anything unfamiliar or outside her normal routine unnerved her as it had never done before.

  She’d been an ICU nurse in a trauma center now for almost ten years, so unpredictability and chaos were commonplace during every shift. An ever-changing work environment she could handle. But outside of the comfort of the hospital, she couldn’t seem to deal with anything interfering with her set routine. Her psychologist told her that was to be expected, and in time she’d be ready to handle the normal twists and turns of life.

  On days like this, Brenna doubted it. She’d been in therapy for nearly three years, and while she only saw Gretchen once a quarter now, or more often when something triggered the demons, some things were still far from normal.

  She took the road the GPS told her was part of the detour and searched for a sign. It was always more reassuring to see a bright orange detour sign, especially when she was on a road she didn’t normally travel. This little Saturday afternoon excursion had been at the suggestion of her psychologist. Too bad she hadn’t known to warn Brenna in advance that the damn road was closed. Or, maybe she had known and this was part of her warped sense of humor? Gretchen worked at the same hospital Brenna did, and they’d known each other for close to ten years.

  Either way, she was stuck taking the long way around, so she might as well enjoy it. The spring day was warm, with just a hint that there might be storms on the way. Brenna opened the moon roof and smiled as the sun warmed her hair. Soon, it would be summer, and she could walk outside without a coat or even a light jacket on. Those were the days she enjoyed most.

  The three-year anniversary of Mark’s death was in August. She still had four months. The past two years had been very, very bad, but she was holding out hope that this year would be a bit easier to get through.

  A sign caught her eye, but it wasn’t bright orange. It was hand-painted, and decorated at the edges with what looked like lace doilies. Intrigued, Brenna slowed her speed and looked for more signs pointing toward the estate sale. She’d always found those sad before. They were usually held because someone had died. But these days, she found them comforting. She felt a camaraderie with the relatives who hosted them.

  Her late fiancé hadn’t died from old age or a long-standing disease, as most of the people whose possessions their relatives were selling off had done, but that didn’t matter. Inevitably someone
would strike up a conversation with her, and she could tell the story one more time. Each retelling helped her cope with his unexpected death a bit.

  She’d stopped telling the story to her coworkers because it was difficult to deal with the judgment that came with the tale. Yes, Mark had been taking drugs and she hadn’t known it. She should have known it. She was a nurse, for God’s sake. But he’d been a respiratory therapist, and he’d hidden his abuse well. Very well.

  So well, that when he’d been brought into the ER that night after crashing his motorcycle against a bridge abutment, and she was told he had massive drugs on board, she hadn’t believed it. She’d insisted they run the tox screen again. In the end, she’d had to accept two horrible realities. The man she’d been in love with since high school was dead, and he’d been living a secret life she’d known nothing about.

  She found the house, and it looked like most of the items for sale were spread out in the front yard, and spilled over into a barn along the side of the property. She parked on the lawn since everyone else seemed to have done the same thing, and walked toward the barn first. They always put the good stuff inside, even in warmer weather.

  Once in there, she inhaled the sweet smell of hay, and didn’t even mind that she could also detect more unpleasant smells underneath it. She was certainly used to those, because human and animal body waste smelled the same to her.

  Most of the items were worn and very old, and unfortunately not anything she wanted or needed. But near the back of the barn an item caught her eye that seemed out of place with the rest of the clothing and old dishes for sale.

  As she approached it, a sudden breeze sent a shiver down her spine. Brenna almost didn’t keep walking. The uneasiness was that palpable. But then the painting called to her. It was the only way she could describe the sensation. She glanced around, but no one was back here. The item was all alone, and as she drew closer she could see why. It looked completely out of place among seersucker jackets and dishes that looked like the kind her grandparents had owned.

  A dark green cloth covered part of it, so Brenna pulled it off, revealing the entire painting. The frame was old, ornate, and reminded her of something she’d be more likely to see in a museum. The background in the painting was dark. The woman portrayed was on her back, nude, with a black blindfold on, and chains across her outstretched arms and ankles.

  Brenna’s breathing grew rapid as she stared at it. It was the most decadent thing she’d ever seen. Each inch of the woman’s body conjured up images of being chained down and forced to submit to a Dom, or two. At the same time, the memories of what she’d shared with Mark overwhelmed her, and she had to step away from the portrait for a moment.

  Mark had been an experienced Dom by the time he’d asked Brenna to marry him, but Brenna had learned about the lifestyle alongside him. She’d also learned more about her fantasies and desires than she’d ever have been able to figure out on her own. The kinky sex was merely a bonus. An incredible bonus that she still craved every single day of her life.

  But what she also craved even more was the touch of a Dominant in her life. She’d been reluctant to try again with someone new. Doing so would necessitate a level of trust she wasn’t sure she could give to anyone else. She’d given Mark her complete trust and he’d betrayed it. Maybe one day she’d be able to trust a man again, dominant or not, but not right now. Not yet.

  I’m only thirty-one!

  When she no longer felt like she would pass out at the memories, she dared to glance at the painting once more. Brenna froze in place as she realized it had changed. The woman was still there, on her back, blindfolded and chained, but there was the shadow of a figure next to her that hadn’t been there before. Or, had he been, and Brenna hadn’t seen it?

  No. He was not there earlier. You know he wasn’t.

  “Hi there. Can I help you?”

  She jumped and whirled around at the voice. “Oh. Sorry. I didn’t hear you approach.”

  “My goodness, I didn’t mean to frighten you. What are you doing back here all by yourself?”

  Brenna pointed. “I was intrigued by that. How much is it?”

  The woman adjusted her glasses, frowning. “Where on earth did that come from?”

  Brenna shivered again, although it was warm inside the barn and this time there was no breeze. “It’s not part of your sale?”

  She snorted. “Dear, if my father had something like that in his house, my mother would have cut off his ding-dong.”

  Brenna couldn’t help but laugh. “Okay…um…well if it’s not yours, someone must have put it here.”

  “I have no idea where it came from, but if you want it, take it. Please. My family will have a heart attack if they see something like that in here.”

  “Thank you.”

  The woman walked away, shaking her head. Brenna stared at the portrait for a few moments, and although she could pinpoint why it was so compelling, she was also uncomfortable looking at it. But she picked it up anyway, and swore she heard it sigh when she did.

  That was crazy. Inanimate objects didn’t make noises. She really needed to get a grip on her emotions.

  She placed it in the back of her SUV, facedown, and continued on the detour route. After she passed several more homes, she finally spotted the orange signs and found her way back to highway. By the time she got home, she felt better about everything, but couldn’t say why.

  She was off work the next day as well, and had planned on making popcorn and watching a few new movies she’d recently bought, but first she placed the portrait in the kitchen and sat down with her laptop to check e-mails and Facebook. An hour later, she glanced over at the painting and gasped.

  There were now two figures near the woman, both men, dressed in billowy shirts, breeches, and boots. At first glance she thought they might be pirates. That was kind of hot, but as a fantasy only. Not in a painting that had contained one figure when she’d first looked at it. She was either losing her mind, or hallucinating. Either option wasn’t pleasant, and Brenna began to wish she’d walked away from the portrait in the barn.

  She moved it into the laundry room and closed the door. Tomorrow she’d take it back, or perhaps she’d look around for an antique shop that would want it. It had to be old and valuable, so it would bring some shop decent money.

  Either way, she’d decided it wasn’t something she wanted in her home. She had enough to deal with right now. The last thing she needed was a painting that made her think she was seeing things. Even if it was kind of kinky and made her body tingle.

  Brenna made her microwave popcorn and was about an hour into a movie when she paused the disc and listened. There was an odd noise she couldn’t identify. At first she thought it was something outside, but when she took a quick glance out the windows, no one was around. The sound was similar to someone smacking wood against a soft surface, like a sofa or a pile of clothing.

  As she passed the laundry room, she stopped, her pulse racing. The sound was coming from inside it. There was only one window in there, and it faced the back yard. She’d already looked out the kitchen windows into the yard and nothing was out there. Was someone inside her house?

  She gripped her cell phone tighter as she strained to listen. The sound was steady and rhythmic, and she couldn’t imagine who would be in there or why. The windows were all locked from the inside, and she’d have heard glass breaking if someone had entered her home that way.

  The painting!

  No. It couldn’t be.

  You heard it sigh.

  But paintings didn’t make noise. They simply did not do that.

  There was only one way to find out. Her fingers slipped on the doorknob, and as soon as she pushed open the door, she knew before she flipped on the lights that no one had broken into her house. One of the men in the painting was swatting the woman’s pussy with a long leather paddle. Each smack sent jolts of dark desire straight through Brenna’s body.

  She watched for a momen
t or two, her own pussy growing wetter with each strike, and then she walked toward the portrait for a better look.

  As she stared at the scene in front of her, the floor beneath her feet slipped away, and then she was falling…

  No!

  Her cell phone slipped out of her hands and clattered on the tile floor as she clawed at the air, looking for something to hang onto. But there was nothing there. She could still hear the smack of the paddle, and then everything went dark and silent.

  Chapter Two

  Prince Jaxon, son of King Atheron and younger brother to Prince Jarrett, had just about enough of this emergency Council meeting, so was very glad when Sedgewick declared the meeting over. Sedgewick was an officious prick, and head of the Council. He and his cronies had come under recent scrutiny when Dalton, a former Council member, had been able to secure a castle guard position for an Enfield spy named Willoughby two months ago.

  Both men were now dead. They’d been caught in their scheme by Jarrett’s and Prince Colton’s lover, Abigail, who was from the other world. Dalton and Willoughby had nearly raped Abigail before Jarrett and Colton found her, prompting Atheron to insist that all princes accompany their women everywhere inside the castle. Consequently, the Council chambers were now filled to the brim with spectators, including those women and their maids.

  Jaxon and his best friend, Parker, Sedgewick’s son and Colton’s brother, weren’t on the Council. But this particular meeting was one which all the princes of the elite ruling class had been commanded by Atheron to attend. The objective was to figure out what to do about the growing rumors of an allegiance between Enfield to their west, and Wythmail to their east.