Page 1 of Reclaiming His Soulmate

Prologue

Clarissa

The tension in the room had Clarissa James’s heart pounding and her palms sweating. The three Doms hadn’t said a word since she entered Mitch Sawyer’s office, other than his order to drop to her knees and present herself to them. The men owned The Covenant, a private, elite BDSM club in Tampa she belonged to. She had memberships to numerous lifestyle clubs worldwide, where she could leave the demands of her career and public persona outside and give in to her submissive nature, but the one in Tampa was her favorite. However, she was afraid her time there was over. If the men’s irate glares when she first arrived were any indication, her membership would be revoked today. Not that she would blame them. It was her fault she was in this mess. Well, hers and her ex-husband’s, the rotten, cheating bastard.

Her own anger at the situation, combined with anxiety in her gut, made her want to vomit as she waited for them to finish mind-fucking her and finally speak. Psychological games werepart of the lifestyle, and usually, she enjoyed them. This was not one of those times, though.

Masters Ian and Devon were brothers, and Mitch was their cousin. The latter managed the club, while Ian was the head Dom, whom everyone referred and answered to. He was a master of head games and caused many a submissive to drop to their knees from just a dominating glance in their direction. Meanwhile, outside of the club, he was a nice guy, albeit sarcastic and highly protective of his family and friends. He and Devon were retired Navy SEALs who also owned a private security business in the same compound as the club.

“Eyes on me, sub,” Ian barked in that demanding tone that made many a submissive’s body quiver.

Complying, her gaze met his glare, and she gulped. With his arms crossed, he stood behind an impressive, dark mahogany executive desk, his black Trident Security T-shirt pulled taut across his muscular chest and shoulders. Dressed similarly to his brother in a gray company T-shirt and black cargo pants, Devon rested one ass cheek on a corner of the desk with the opposite foot on the floor to maintain his balance. Mitch wore a red polo shirt with The Covenant logo over his heart and jeans and sat on a sofa to her right but still in her sight line.

It was a Thursday morning, and the club was closed until six p.m. No one else was there—not even the cleaning company. For that, she was grateful because she had no desire for anyone to overhear her getting reprimanded.

“Your behavior the other night was disgraceful and unacceptable, Clarissa,” Ian said, his tone dripping with disdain. “Out of all the submissives, you surprised me, and I’m very disappointed. You broke many club rules, interrupted scenes, and pissed off a lot of Doms, not to mention ruining the event for some members. Give me one good reason not to ban you from the club indefinitely.”

She gulped again and pursed her lips for a moment. She hadn’t expected him to give her a chance to save her membership and didn't have a response ready. “I ... uh ... I’m sorry, Sir. I honestly have no excuse for my behavior other than Landon’s presence catching me off guard.”

“That’s Master Landon to you within these walls,” Devon corrected in a calm, low voice that still upped her apprehension a few notches.

“Sorry, Sir.MasterLandon.” Damn. Just saying her ex-husband’s name put a bad taste in her mouth, and adding the honorific didn’t help. “I didn’t mean to interrupt any scenes or ruin the event for anyone. I didn’t expect him to be here. Then, being paired with him ... after him cheating on me and our nasty divorce, I-I just freaked out. I apologize to you, and I’m willing to apologize to the membership as well, whether you revoke my membership or not.”

She prayed it was the latter. Participating in The Covenant's Slot Scene Spectacular was the first time she’d run into Landon at any lifestyle clubs they both belonged to since their divorce was finalized five months ago. However, she’d seen him at other non-BDSM events in California, New York, and London. Their respective careers resulted in them running in the same circles. Such was life among the Hollywood crowd.

“When I got home, I was mortified once it sunk in what I’d done. I’m still embarrassed by my actions.” Her gaze flittered from one man to the next. “Masters, you know me. Making a dramatic scene like that isn’t like me. Despite being an actress, I’m not a diva—I try not to be—especially in the lifestyle. I-I’m deeply sorry and will accept any punishment you deem appropriate, as long as it doesn’t involve Master Landon. His betrayal still ... still hurts.”

She’d managed to hold off any tears until that moment. It was almost a week since her outburst, complete with screamsand curses, at the club. The forty-eight hours following that, she spent alone in her home, bawling her eyes out, binging on ice cream—a rare indulgence—and taking phone calls from only a few close friends who sympathized with her. She thought she could get through this meeting without crying again—she’d shed enough tears over Landon—but alas, that didn’t happen. As she said, these men knew her well enough to know the tears were real and not an act that others may or may not believe.

Mitch grabbed several tissues from a box on the table beside him and handed them to her. They gave her a moment to wipe her eyes, blow her nose, and gather herself again. Ian circled the desk to stand in front of her and leaned against it. His eyes now held some sympathy, but she could tell he still wasn’t happy with her. “Clarissa, I know your divorce was hard on you, and there is a lot of bad blood between you and Landon. We didn’t expect you to end up paired with each other. Had you given us a few minutes, we would’ve found a way to fix that. But you didn’t give us a chance before you went on a rampage. We had no choice but to have you escorted from the club, and that’s not something we take lightly.” He sighed. “That being said, we understand your emotions got the best of you—it happens. You’ve never been a problem in the club before, and you’re well-liked among the members, so we’re giving you a second chance.”

Her heart leaped into her throat, and she was at a loss for words. More tears, this time from relief, rolled down her cheeks as Ian continued. “However, we can’t let this go without some consequences. Are you still in town this coming Saturday?”

She nodded. “Y-yes, Sir. I’ll be in Tampa for two more weeks.”

“Good. On Saturday, I expect you here at ten p.m. You’ll take the stage and apologize to the members. Master Mitch will then flog your ass—thirty lashes. After that, you’ll be suspended from the club for six months—usually, it would be three, butsince you’ll be out of town for most of that with your upcoming schedule, I’m making it six.” Before last week’s incident at the club, she told a few people, including the owners and their spouses, about the next movie she was set to star in. The cast and crew would spend seven weeks filming in a small, quaint town in Oregon and another three at the production company’s studio in Los Angeles. “Once that time is up, the slate will be wiped clean. But be warned, Clarissa, a repeat of last week at any time in the future will result in your membership being revoked.”

“I-I understand, Sir—Sirs,” she quickly amended as her gaze moved from one man to the next. “Th-thank you for the second chance. I promise I won’t let you down. I do have one request, though?—”

As if anticipating what she wanted to say, Ian held up his hand. “Landon will not be here on Saturday. I already spoke to him, and he’s back in California. Due to the circumstances, he thought it was best not to be here when you apologized to everyone. I don’t exactly agree with that since you owe him an apology for your actions above all, but it was his decision. At his request, if and when you decide to ask for his forgiveness for making a scene, that will be your choice. No one else’s.”

Oh, thank God.She knew she couldn’t face her ex-husband anytime soon. That damn man had been the love of her life, and he destroyed what they had together with his indiscretions. She could never forgive him nor ask for his absolution for embarrassing him in front of approximately two hundred and fifty people last week.

She nodded. “Thank you, Sirs. I’ll take my punishment as you’ve laid out.”

Unexpectedly, Ian stepped forward and held out his hand. When she took it, he helped her to her feet. Her knees ached—more from her advancing age than from kneeling on the plush rug—but she ignored them.

“We’ll see you on Saturday, little one. I hope you know to expect admonishments from the Doms. They aren’t happy with you right now.”

“I know, Sir. There was no excuse for my behavior, and I promise I’ll make it right. Thank you for giving me a second chance. This club and its members are like family to me, and I know I disappointed everyone, not just the Doms.”

“See that it never happens again.”

“Yes, Sir.”

Chapter One

Landon

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