Decadent Master (18 page)

“He’s everything his reputation suggests.” Kristy hopped up. “Something to drink, Adeline?”

Wynne gave them both questioning glances. “What reputation? Kristy, you never mentioned a reputation.”

“No, thank you,” Adeline answered.

Kristy shrugged, returning to her seat. “I didn’t lie to you, Wynne. He’s everything I told you.” She turned her attention to their visitor. “From what I heard, Dierk’s settled down quite a bit lately, because of Wynnie here.” Kristy leaned closer. “He’s in love with her.”

“Oh?” Adeline’s meticulously groomed brows shot to the top of her forehead. But just as quickly, and before Wynne could talk herself into serious insult, all signs of shock vanished from her face. “I see now why you might ask me to share my story. “I meant no insult,” she said to Wynne. “The
dejenen
don’t fall in love easily, especially with a mortal.”

Wynne gave a weak smile. “I think Kristy’s exaggerating. Love is a very strong word. Lust is probably more appropriate,” she lied.

Kristy gave an emphatic shake of the head. She poked an index finger at Wynne. “Don’t lie.” Then she turned to Adeline. “He told her his secret.”

Adeline nodded. “They don’t tell anyone about their true nature. Quite the opposite, they go to great lengths to hide it.”

“And yet you learned,” Wynne pointed out. “If they are so good at hiding their ‘true nature,’ would you know?”

“There was no way to hide it from me. I was the companion to a
dejenen
for almost three decades, and some things couldn’t be hidden from me after some time had passed.” She smoothed her hair back from her face and leaned close. “Can you guess my age? Please, don’t be afraid you’ll insult me. You won’t.”

Wynne took a look at the woman’s face. There were some very faint signs of age, thinning of the skin under her eyes, little crinkles at the corners, a slight indentation between her brows. She guessed the woman was in her mid to late thirties.

Then again, plastic surgeons had a powerful arsenal against the effects of aging these days.

“Before you ask,” Adeline offered, “you have my word that I’ve had no plastic surgery. No lifts, acid peels, fillers, nothing.” She chuckled. “If you’ve seen photos of some of the celebrities these days, you know plastic surgery has its limits.”

Doubting her initial guess, Wynne took another long, hard look and decided, despite any lack of evidence, to bump up her guess to forty. “You won’t be insulted?”

“Absolutely not.”

“Forty.”

The woman smiled, slipped her hand into her purse, and pulled out her driver’s license. Without saying a word, she handed it to Wynne.

Wynne checked the photograph first then read the age.

That couldn’t be right. Either the woman had lied, and made herself about thirty years older than she was (why?!) or she was using someone else’s identity.

Adeline’s smile was wry. “I can guess what you’re thinking, but I have photographs at home that prove that driver’s license is mine, and that I am as old as it says.”

And I’m supposed to believe you, just because you say so?
“This is too bizarre to believe.”

“I didn’t believe any of it at first either.” Adeline smiled. “But after a while, I couldn’t deny the truth. My friends were all aging, getting wrinkles, various parts of their anatomies moving south, while I remained young and strong. It’s the venom in their bite. If they only bite you once, there isn’t much change. But if you get regular “injections,” as I liked to call them, you’ll age very slowly, if at all. It’s a nice perk, though it comes at a price. One does become a little sensitive to the sun.” She dug a card and pen out of her purse, wrote something on the back, and handed it to Wynne. “In case you’d like to call me.”

Wynne glanced at the card. “Thanks.”

“I have to get going. I have an appointment in LA in the morning.” The seventy-one-year-old woman, who didn’t look a day over thirty, stood, gave Wynne one last smile, and then gave Kristy a hug. “It’s good seeing you again.”

“You, too. I hope it won’t be three years before I see you next.”

“It’s hard to say. Business has been keeping me busy. But I’ll try to get back before too long.” She glanced at her wristwatch.

“Good. And congratulations on your new line,” Kristy said as she followed Adeline to the door. “Looks like it’s doing very well.”

“Thank you. I’m quite pleased with it.” She waved at Wynne. “Your friend won’t be needing my products anytime soon, but I’d be happy to send you some more samples.”

Kristy’s nod was exuberant. “Oh yes, I’d love that. Thanks.”

“I’m very glad to do it. Good-bye, now.”

It struck Wynne the moment Adeline had stepped through the door, after she flipped the card over and read it. “That’s Adeline Landgre? As in,
the
Adeline Landgre?”

“Sure.”

“The Adeline Landgre who owns
Jeunesse éternelle
Cosmetics?”

Kristy grinned. “In case you haven’t guessed it by now…Her secret formula? Vampire spit. Injections might keep a girl from aging almost entirely, but rubbing a little on the skin works wonders for crow’s-feet and laugh lines. No pesky side effects either, like an unnatural sensitivity to the sun, if you get my drift.” She winked. “Oh, and for God’s sake, don’t tell anyone.”

“Do you honestly think they’d believe me if I did?”

Kristy gave her an I-told-you-so smile. “It’s possible. Not everyone is as closed minded as you.”

I
t was here.

And Dierk would be here soon, too.

Wynne was so excited she was practically jumping up and down.

Money was such a small price to pay, even if the volume of money she’d had to gather to buy his gift hadn’t been exactly miniscule. It had taken a fairly hefty dose of creativity, a little luck, and the willingness to sacrifice to come up with enough cash to buy Dierk his heart’s desire, but she’d done it and she couldn’t wait for him to see what she had for him.

She held a 1937 first edition signed copy of Tolkien’s
The Hobbit
in her hands. It smelled so good, like an old house with dark secrets. The dust jacket was absolutely perfect, the blue and green colors still vibrant. The inside pages were slightly yellowed but still nicely preserved. This was truly a once-in-a-lifetime find, but then again so was the man who was about to receive it.

Her wonderful, kind, loving, immortal vampire would be here any moment.

Gently, she wrapped the book in the packaging the seller had sent it in and then gift wrapped the box. No sooner did she have the last piece of tape in place when a knock sounded at her door.

She didn’t walk to the door, she ran, the box cradled in her arms. She opened the door and shoved the gift into his arms.

“What’s this?” he asked, clearly stunned.

She grabbed his arm and pulled, coaxing him into the apartment. “A present.”

“For what?”

“For…because…” She took a deep breath, in, out. “I guess it would be an I’m-sorry gift.”

Still looking puzzled, he shook his head. “You have no reason to be sorry.”

“Yes, I do. I wasn’t exactly open minded when you told me about…you being special. And I’m sorry.”

“Oh Wynne. You don’t need to apologize for that.” He cupped her cheek and gazed into her eyes. “I didn’t expect you to believe me right away. It’s not like I told you this isn’t my natural hair color. I was asking you to believe the impossible.”

He still hadn’t opened the box, dammit. He needed to open it before she tore into it herself.

Wynne pointed at the gift. “Won’t you please open it? I’m dying, here.”

He visibly sighed. “Okay.” He methodically removed each piece of tape, unfolded the wrapping paper, opened the box, and removed the packing as if he was uncovering a priceless artifact in an archeological excavation. It was excruciating to watch. Absolute torture.

He did it on purpose.

But the flash of amazement in his eyes when he finally saw the book was worth every sacrifice, every agonizing minute she’d waited. She felt like her heart was about to explode, she was so happy and excited.

He looked at her as if she were an angel offering him eternal salvation. “Wynne?”

About to cry—she was getting way too weepy these days—she cupped her hands over her mouth and sniffled. “Vampire or not, Dierk, I love you.”

He set down the book and swept her into his arms, and oh yes, it felt so good and so right and so natural. He lifted her chin and kissed her until she saw stars and then he kissed her some more, and her mind went totally blank.

All that mattered was this moment and this man. His arms, enfolding her body; his lips, tasting and taking; his tongue, plunging into her mouth and filling it with his sweet flavor; and his body, hard and hot.

She would not, could not, let him go. Not now, not ever. And she was determined to make that perfectly clear by the end of the night.

While he kissed her to oblivion, she slipped her hands into his shirt and stroked the warm, smooth skin she found beneath it. His pecs were hard bulges covered by warm satin, his nipples tight little peaks that grew rigid beneath her fingertips. Eyes closed, and still totally lost in his kisses, she unfastened each button and pushed the shirt down his arms. It finally fell to the floor.

Now, the pants.

She reached for his belt but he caught her hands in his fists and forced them behind her back. Ohhh, yes, how she loved being dominated! She sighed into their joined mouths and then gave a little squeal when he caught her up in his arms.

He carried her with such ease, as if she weighed as little as a child. Across the living room and down the hall he hurried. He stopped at the end. “Which one?”

“There.” She pointed at her bedroom door.

“Okay.” He gave the door a kick, making it swing open, carried her to the bed, and set her down. His gaze was smoldering hot, and she physically felt it as it swept up and down her body, like the lick of a flame.

“Take me, Dierk. I’m yours.” She pulled her shirt off and tossed it aside.

Something dark flashed in his eyes. “Are you sure?”

“Absolutely.”

He moved closer, every muscle in his arms, shoulders, and chest tight, rippling and bulging. He looked fierce and dangerous, like a predator stalking its prey, and she couldn’t help squirming on the bed, her body so inflamed with need she wanted to cry.

“If we take this step, there’s no going back,” he warned. “I won’t be able to let you go.”

“Please, Dierk. I want you. I need you.”

His expression softened a tiny bit. “Baby, I need you, too. More than you know.” This time, his kiss was soft and sweet; at least, it was for a short time. But as it continued, it grew bolder, more possessive, and she was more than happy for it. Just as she was more than happy to let him gradually strip away the rest of her clothes, one piece at a time.

When she was fully nude, he stopped kissing her, but only long enough to give her one up and down look that sent shudders of need rippling through her body.

“Undress me now.” He straightened up, and she scrambled off the bed, eagerly getting to work doing exactly what he’d asked. The shoes came off first, then the socks, belt, pants, underwear.

His body was a work of art, truly. A study in male perfection, from his thick mane of wavy hair to his well-formed feet, and every single inch in between. And his cock…It was thick and long and hard and she couldn’t wait to feel it gliding in and out of her at last. She’d been denied that pleasure for far too long.

He climbed up on the bed and pulled her onto it with him. But when she tried to lie down, he stopped her. “No.” He reclined back, took his cock in his hand, and gave it a slow swipe up and down. Her mouth filled with saliva. “I have been dreaming of you taking me in your mouth.”

“Oh yes, Dierk.” She bent over, replaced his hand with hers, gave his thick rod a couple of strokes, and then opened her mouth and pulled the round head inside. He tasted so good, impossibly good. She drew hard, sucking him in deeper, and skimmed her flattened hands up his thick thighs. His leg muscles were hard as concrete beneath her fingertips.

She moaned, relaxed her throat, and took him deeper, and her effort was rewarded with a deep, rumbling groan of raw male need.

This was right. It was perfect. The moment she had dreamed of, hoped for, waited for.
Please, don’t let it end.

Spurred by the sound of Dierk’s labored breathing, she settled into a steady rhythm, moving up and down, his cock slipping down her throat and back out again. She stopped every now and then to swirl her tongue round the head like a lollipop. With every stroke, lick, and suck, her own body grew tighter, her need burning hotter.

“Enough.” He gently lifted her head, hands cupped around the sides.

When her gaze met his, the fire burning in her body flared brighter. A tear slipped from the corner of her eye, and he sweetly wiped it away.

“I love you,” she whispered.

“I love you, too, my beautiful, sweet little slave. Tell me you won’t ever take another Master.”

“There can be only one Master for this slave, and he’s you. I have always belonged to you, and I always will.”

He kissed her again and again and again, until she had to drag in little gulps of air and she felt like she would die if that cock wasn’t inside her right now.

He forced her onto her back, pushed her knees out, and settled his hips between her thighs, and she smiled up into his eyes, knowing he was about to mark her as his for the rest of her life. His cock pushed at her entry. It slipped inside and surged deep, and her back tightened, arching. Stars exploded behind her closed eyelids.

So full. He fit her perfectly.

She looked up, reached for him, but he wove his fingers between hers and pressed her hands back down, pinning them to the mattress. He slid his hips back, withdrawing almost entirely, then slammed them forward.

Oh the agony and ecstasy, both.

There were no ropes or chains or leather cuffs. There were no benches or crosses or tables. It didn’t matter. They weren’t needed. He had her submission, her surrender. She gladly relinquished all she was and all she had to him. Her decadent lover. Her Master. Her everything.

And he accepted her offering with clear appreciation. They had an understanding without needing to write out a list of rules. There was no need for safe words or limits.

They were one, in mind.

Their bodies worked as one, his strong, hard form and her softer one. They withdrew and met in a rhythm that met the thrumming need pulsing through their beings.

They were one, in body.

And as their need built, they touched and caressed each other, sharing the emotions they had been forced to stifle for so long. There were no words exchanged: there was no need for words. Their energies swirled and churned, coursing through Dierk’s body before charging through Wynne’s. She was his and he was hers. She was him. He was her.

They were one, in spirit.

When they reached climax, they soared over the crest together. The energy pulsing through them increased a hundred times. It tingled and buzzed and zapped through every cell in Wynne’s body as she shuddered. She had never felt so powerful, so alive or strong.

She laughed and cried and clung to Dierk’s sweat-slicked body as he surged forward, giving one final thrust. And then spent, he kissed her face, her shoulders, her hair, rolled off of her, and pulled her into his arms.

“Ohmygod,” she said, feeling like she’d just done the world’s best drug. Her head was spinning. Her body was twitching all over. And she still felt like she was strong enough to pick up a small car and toss it. “Ohmygod, ohmygod, ohmygod.”

Dierk gave her a pat. “You thought that was something. We’re just getting started.”

Smiling, she took his hand and placed it between her legs. “I was hoping you were going to say that.”