Excerpt of Collared by the Cowboy by Susan Arden

“You’ll need a collar and a cloak, and possibly a mask to
shield your identity. You’ll follow my directions when you
visit here. Understood?”

“What—“”she stopped talking when his warm finger pressed her
lips silent.

“Repeat after me: Yes, Sir.”

She felt her eyes widen as his hand slid down her face,
tracing lightly over her neck and came to rest on her
shoulder. “Well?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Not too difficult,” he exhaled and removed his hand. He
glanced down her body sharply. “First, I don’t want you
strolling around in any outfit that is too revealing. If you
do, I’ll bring you back here and begin your lesson in
following directions, and that’s the part that won’t be
fake. You step out of line, and I’m going to teach you how
to behave. I might not be fucking you for real, but I will
be spanking that beautiful ass of yours if that’s what you
need.”

“I don’t know—”

“We can start that lesson. Right now,” he interrupted her.

She spit out a hasty, “Yes, Sir.”

His nostrils flared. “Mia, since it’s no mystery that this
lifestyle is totally new to you and I’m willing to help you.
The only question is, are you in or out? Don’t answer just
yet. Think about it for a minute.” He crossed the room and
opened the door to an interior room.

She clung to the bar, her heart pounding a million beats a
minute in her chest. She heard noises from inside wherever
he’d gone—a door or drawer banged shut. Then another. The
longer it took him inside, the faster her pulse sped up. She
didn’t need a minute or an hour or a day. She was in, all
the way. Her only question was how to climb out once this
project was over. He reappeared at the threshold, his
powerful body framed by the doorway, as he regarded her with
a sizzling stare that swallowed her whole.

“I’m in,” she whispered.

All she had to do was make sure he never had cause to
discipline her and she’d be fine. Twelve weeks. How hard
could that be?

Brandon nodded, then crossed to the sofa and laid a satin
cape of deep wine color, with a matching mask across the
back.

“Come here,” he said, and held out a black leather band. “I
want to try this on you.” He sat on the back of the sofa
with his muscular legs spread open.

“A collar? You just happen to have a spare?” she asked.

“This is a club. So, yes.” He rubbed his fingers along the
collar’s edge, his eyes dropping from her face to trace her
body as she came over to him, and stood just in front of his
knees. “Closer,” he said, lifting his gaze to stare into her
eyes.

She walked in between his legs. “How’s that?”