Decadent Master (5 page)

“W
ellll?” Kristy gave Wynne a sidelong look as they trotted across the parking lot. Finally, Wynne felt like she could breathe freely. Fresh air. So good. Such a relief.

Wynne knew what Kristy was hoping to hear, but that wasn’t what she was going to hear. As Wynne reached Kristy’s car, she admitted, “I’ll give you this: it’s not as dirty and gross as I’d imagined.”

“Dirty? Gross?” Scowling, Kristy tossed her bag into the trunk and slammed the lid.

Wynne slid into the passenger seat and waited for Kristy to take a seat before answering. “I’ve always had an active imagination.”

Kristy stuffed her key into the ignition, the dozen or so key rings dangling from it rattling in the tense silence. “Yeah, I knew that much, but
dirty
? Seriously?”

“Um, I was kinda imagining something along the lines of one of those nasty peepshow places on 8 Mile. You know, where men jerk off in cramped, scummy cubicles…and there are paper towel dispensers everywhere to…” She didn’t finish the rest of the description. There was no need. Her friend had gotten the point.

Kristy’s face went absolutely white. Then pink. Then red. “What…?” She waved her hands as the car rolled to a stop at the end of the club’s driveway. “Do you honestly think I’d go to a place like that? Wynne? God, I’m not an idiot.” She looked both ways, then pulled the car into traffic.

“I know you’re not.” Wynne stared out the window, watching but not really seeing the world outside roll by. “You asked for my opinion and I gave it. I’m not trying to insult you. Quite the opposite, you can take my comment as an insult to
me
. I was ignorant. I admit it.” She turned her head to check and see if Kristy’s face had lost a little of that color yet.

It had.

“Okay.” Looking a lot less livid, Kristy gave her a half smile. “I can accept that.” After a beat, she asked, “What did you think of Rolf and his brother? Hotties, aren’t they? Both of them.”

She nodded. “They are. Rolf invited me to come back tomorrow. To play.”

“So, do you want me to bring you back tomorrow?” Kristy turned onto a freeway service drive, steering toward the entrance ramp less than a quarter of a mile ahead. “Lucky girl! Master Rolf doesn’t play with just anybody. He picks and chooses his subbies.”

This time, it was Wynne’s turn to blush, although her color change wasn’t produced by anger but pure embarrassment. “Really?”

“Yeah. And I have to say, I haven’t seen him look at anyone like that before, not even his usual subs.” After a beat, she added, “You didn’t answer. Do you want me to drive tomorrow?”

Wynne fingered her burning cheeks. “Oh. Uh. No, thanks.”

“Okay. Can you remember how to get here, or do you need me to print up a map?”

“Um, I’ll be fine.” Wynne dropped her gaze to her lap, where her hands were clutched so tightly her knuckles were white.

Silence.

Kristy cleared her throat as she checked the rearview mirror before changing lanes. They were rolling up on their exit already, a good thing. “You’re welcome to raid my closet if you want to wear something special.”

Fighting the urge to squirm in her seat, Wynne plastered on a cheerful face. “Thanks.”

Kristy maneuvered the car down the exit ramp and stopped at the red light. She gave Wynne one long look and frowned. “You’re not going.”

“Nope.”

Kristy sighed. “Okay.”

They made it within a quarter mile of their apartment complex before Kristy let her have it, which, of course, Wynne knew was coming. “I wasn’t going to say anything, but you are crazy if you don’t take up Rolf on his offer.”

“I knew you weren’t going to let this drop.”

“I’m your best friend. I can’t.”

“You’re my best friend, Kristy. Which is why I was hoping you would understand.”

“I do.” Kristy sighed. “You aren’t comfortable. You’re out of your element. You don’t know what to expect, how to act, what to say or do.”

“And still you question my decision?”

“Yes. Because I know you’re letting an opportunity slip through your fingers.”

“An opportunity to do what? Figure out why my ex-fiancé is my ex?”

“No, to search yourself, to grow, to step out of the past and into the present.”

“And you think I need to let some guy tie me up to do that?”

“Yes, I do.”

“Why?”

“Because that’s what people need sometimes when they’re stuck. They need to force themselves into a corner and see what happens.”

“What self-help books have you been reading?”

“None. My opinions on the subject have been formed from years of living, and observing people.”

“You talk like you’re a hundred. You’re twenty-three. How much could you have observed?”

“A lot more than you think.” Kristy put the car in park and cut off the engine. “Honey, I care about you, and that’s the only reason why I’m pushing this. Promise me you’ll think about it? Just go once. Go with an open mind and see what happens. I know you’ll be glad you did.”

“I promise I’ll think about it.”

“Okay. That’s a start.”

“You won’t nag me.”

“Absolutely not.”

“You won’t spend the next twenty-four hours telling me how great bondage and submission is?”

“Nope. I’d rather you tell me…and you will, after you pay Master Rolf a visit.” Kristy winked.

Sweet Jesus, there were two men. Two men having sex.

“I can’t look.” Wynne wrenched away from a surprised Master Rolf, twisting around to face the door.

What the hell had he been thinking? Bringing her into a private room to watch two
men
playing bondage games? Didn’t he know how she’d feel about this, after what her fiancé…?

Shit, he didn’t. How could she forget? He thought she was writing an erotica novel about bondage.

He pulled open the door, ushering her outside before cornering her in the hallway. He planted his hands against the wall on either side of her head, caging her in. “What was that all about?”

“I—I was just caught by surprise. That’s all.”

“Surprise?” Rolf’s intense gaze swept over her features, making her face sting with embarrassment and shame. But he didn’t say another word, just stood there, so close the air around her was heavily scented with his unique aroma, a blend of tangy aftershave and man.

Her body was keenly aware of how close he was. Her nipples were tingly and tight, and deep inside her belly a warm sensation was swirling round and round.

He was so much more man than John had been, not that John had been a lightweight. But Rolf’s dark, roughly hewn features were such a stark contrast to John’s golden-boy good looks and innocent face.

And his body, oh my. He had muscles on top of muscles. Everything was sculpted, as if chiseled from rock. Just like his brother Dierk.

Dierk. Where was he?

She’d been disappointed when he hadn’t come out to greet her in the lobby. Talk about a face. His had been the star feature in at least a couple of her dreams over the past week. In fact, those dreams were what had made her decide to come back to Twilight. She’d pretty much convinced herself it was a waste of time, searching for answers here. But that last dream—the one she simply couldn’t put out of her head—that had changed her mind.

Dierk, her dark and mysterious dungeon master. She just knew he had secrets. Lots of them.

“Wynne?” Rolf cupped her chin, wrenching her out of her head and back into the real world.

Oh my God. She was standing here, nearly breathless with lust for one man while thinking of another. What was this place doing to her?

“I’m sorry, Rolf. I shouldn’t be here.”
Major understatement.
“This isn’t for me. It was a mistake coming tonight.”
Big, huge, bigger-than-huge mistake.
She expected him to move his arms, to let her go, so she could run like a sissy.

He didn’t.

He pinched his eyebrows together and pursed his lips. “What’s the real reason why you came here tonight?”

Why’d he ask her that?

Her cheeks were about to combust and there wasn’t a single drop of spit left in her mouth. Her tongue was as dry as the Mohave. “I’m…writing a book.”

His eyes locked on hers, he shook his head. “I’m not buying that excuse, so how about you tell me the truth?”

“But I am…I did…I’m working on a book. It’s a romance….”
God, I’m such a bad liar, but I can’t tell him about John. I’ll look so pathetic. Ack, why do I care how pathetic I’ll look in his eyes? I’m not going to do anything with this man.

“A romance, eh?” He dipped his head lower, bending his elbows to bring the hulk of his body closer to hers. A few parts of her anatomy decided they liked it. Her gray matter wasn’t saying what it thought, one way or the other.

Oh God, he was so close and he smelled so good. And his mouth, it was right there. She could let him kiss her. Yes, that would be okay.

What am I thinking?

She gulped a few shallow breaths, hoping the oxygen would help kick-start her brain. It was stalled.

“You’ve gotten very quiet, precious.”

As impossible as she thought it might be, he leaned in closer still. His body—all six feet plus, two hundred and some-odd pounds—was practically smooshed up against hers. A whisper thin pocket of superheated air was all that remained between them.

That, and one very big, bald-faced lie.

“Are you maybe plotting out a sex scene in that pretty head of yours? Maybe I can help.” He tipped his head and brushed his mouth over hers in a whisper of a kiss.

The air somehow seeped out of her lungs, making her head spin like she was riding on a Tilt-A-Whirl. He did it again, and little currents of electricity charged through her body, starting in the center and zapping up her chest and down her legs.

Oh, this was crazy, letting this man kiss her. No, they didn’t have their tongues thrust down each other’s throats, but this wasn’t a chaste kiss either. She was leading Rolf on, making him think things that could never be….

Like she wanted him to kiss her more. Harder. Longer.

Oh God.

She turned her head and fought for the air she needed to clear her foggy head. But Rolf didn’t back off. Instead, he turned his attention to her neck, sweeping her hair away to get a clean shot.

He started the torture by blowing a soft current of air against her already simmering skin. Of course, that left her shivering and covered in goose bumps. No doubt that was just what he’d hoped. Then he flicked his tongue over the pounding pulse running up the side of her neck, following it to her earlobe.

She dragged her heavy arms up and grasped the first thing that she touched, his shirt, squeezing her fingers into tight fists around the soft fabric. She heard herself breathing, felt herself melting against him, knew her resolve was melting, too, but damned if she had the self-control to tell him to stop.

It was wrong. Very wrong. But at the moment, it felt more right than any stolen kiss she’d ever experienced. Even her first with John.

He nipped her ear and her body bolted, every muscle suddenly almost painfully tight. “You’re so responsive, precious. Your body reacts to everything I do.”

That was no lie; even she was surprised. Not that she’d been a cold fish with John, but she’d never been so…easily aroused.

What a freaking understatement. God, she was on fire.

“Come with me, now. To my suite.” He dropped his arms, only to take both her hands. Back-stepping, he lured her down the hall. “It’s time to start your training.”

O
hmygod, what am I doing? What. The. Hell. Am. I. Doing?
Wynne could hardly believe she was standing in a private bondage suite. The door was closing…closing…closed.

Sure Rolf had somehow arranged for most of the oxygen to be sucked out of the room, she gasped and backed away from him.

He was sexy. There was no doubt about that. He had already made her feel things she had never felt before. There could be no questioning that either. But now that she’d had a few seconds to think, she was almost 90 percent sure this was a giant mistake.

Surely it wasn’t too late to tell him she’d changed her mind. He wouldn’t force her to stay, right?

She cleared her throat, prepared to tell him she wasn’t ready to “start her training” today, but then he sat on the couch, kicked an ankle on top of his opposite knee, and threw his arms over the sofa’s back, and just like that he lost that scary edge he’d possessed in ample quantity just a moment before.

“Come, sit.” He patted the cushion. “Here.”

Still unsure whether she was staying or leaving, she took one step forward. “I’m a little uncomfortable.”

“I can tell. That’s why we’re going to take things nice and slow.” It felt like a huge tank of fresh air had just been pumped into the room. Ahhh, she could breathe again. “We got a little intense outside. That’s fine, but we need to sit down and talk first.”

Yes, talk was good. Talk was safe.

Now even more relieved, she sat, leaving a fair amount of space between them. She swiveled to face him, drawing one leg up on the seat and tucking her foot under the opposite knee. “Okay.” She had no idea what one would say in this situation, so she waited for him to say something.

“I need to understand what you’re looking for, what your limits are, what you like and don’t like.”

“I’m not sure I can tell you that, since I’ve never done anything like this before.” Was he asking about sex? Surely, he didn’t expect her to tell him, a stranger, exactly what she liked and didn’t like. She’d never spoken openly and frankly with a partner about sex, not even John. She’d had one hell of a time talking about it with her crazy therapist. To open up to a strange man, a Dom, would be impossible.

“But you do have some notion of your tolerance to pain.”

That she could answer. “Zilch on the pain tolerance. I cry when I stub my toe.”

“There, you see? You can tell me.” He patted her knee and a warm current of sensual energy rippled through her. As if he sensed her reaction, he left his hand there. The longer it remained, though, the more twitchy she felt.

“Does my touching you make you uncomfortable?” he asked.

“A little.”

He smiled. “I was hoping you’d tell me the truth.” He moved his hand away, setting it on his own knee. “Now, tell me what you think you might gain by spending time with me in this room. And don’t say you want to plot your next novel, because there are plenty of ways to learn about S and M without stepping foot in a dungeon. If there is one rule everyone must keep, without fail, it is to be open, honest. Always. You lie, you’re out. Do you understand?” He gave her a pointed look that told her he wasn’t about to let her get away with even a teeny-tiny white lie.

“I understand. As far as your question goes, I wish I could answer it, but I can’t.” Her gaze swept around the room. It was a comfortable-looking space, not quite as sterile and gymlike as the main dungeon area. Large oil paintings hung on two walls, and the walls themselves were painted a rich golden color. The couch was large and comfortable. A pretty armoire with intricately carved doors stood in one corner. With the exception of the narrow bondage table positioned against the wall opposite the armoire, she wouldn’t have known it was a room that was intended for bondage play. The overall feel was sedate and sensual. Cozy, too. Intimate. Yes, that was the perfect adjective.

“If you can’t tell me what you’re looking for, then I’m afraid we shouldn’t continue this discussion.”

She turned her focus back to Rolf. A part of her could imagine him kissing her, touching her. A part of her couldn’t. Strangely, she felt both drawn to him and slightly repelled. “I guess I’m expecting to learn whether this is something I want to pursue deeper or not.” That was the truth, although she didn’t tell him she fully expected to learn it was
not
.

“Fair enough.” He gave her a satisfied nod. “Do you have any injuries or health concerns?”

“No, not that I can think of.”

“Do you take any prescription or over-the-counter medicines on a regular basis?”

“Only a daily vitamin and an occasional Tylenol.”

“Do you drink alcohol? Take any illegal drugs?”

“Very rarely drink and absolutely not, no illegal drugs.”

“Do you see a doctor and dentist regularly? When was your last checkup?”

So many questions.

She cleared her throat and straightened up, putting both feet on the floor. “Wow, I’m feeling a little like I’m being interviewed for a job or something.”

“This is a standard application. We ask every new submissive these questions.”

“I see.” She did, kind of. And didn’t.

He explained, “It’s important for me to know if you have any potential problems or limitations. My first concern is your safety and health, always. So we’re going to get a feel of your overall health. What I can do, with your permission, is share the basics with the other Doms at Twilight, if you would like to approach any of them. That way you won’t have to go over the same information again.”

“Um, okay.” The way he explained it, she could see the wisdom in asking those particular questions, as well as the many more that followed, particularly the one about being tested for STDs and HIV. She was relieved to hear all Doms at Twilight adhered strictly to the club’s condom use policy, without fail. As the questioning continued, she found herself becoming more and more relaxed.

Then he asked, “Okay, now tell me how you feel about your body. Are you self-conscious about any part of it?”

That was a tricky one. She shifted nervously on the couch. “Well, don’t most women have issues with some part of their body?”

“Sure, many do.” He tipped his head. “What are your concerns?”

She’d never talked about her body with a man. Her girlfriends, yes. Plenty of times. Her therapist, yes. But never with a guy. Men simply didn’t understand. “My butt and legs.”

“Show me.”

Oh god, he was asking her to strip. A little zing of jittery excitement buzzed through her body. It wasn’t all unpleasant, but it wasn’t exactly 100 percent good either. “I…okay.” If she wasn’t a little turned on, in addition to being utterly mortified, she wouldn’t have just agreed to show her ass to a stranger. But she was a little aroused and that surprised her. Curious to see where this was heading, she decided she’d do it.

She unzipped her jeans and, keeping her gaze averted, pushed them down to her ankles. Her face was on fire by the time she kicked them off. “I inherited my mother’s thighs.” She pinched the soft flab on the sides and gave it a little shake so he could see what she was talking about. “My butt comes from my father.” She stared at the floor.

She heard him move. A stolen glance told her he was coming toward her. Walking around her. Goose bumps erupted all over her shoulders, back, and chest.

“What’s your problem with it?”

“The position of it, I guess. It’s starting to move south.” She cupped her ass cheeks and lifted. “I expect to wake up someday and find it has fallen to the back of my knees.”

“Take off the panties.”

Her pussy clenched.

He’d commanded she take off her panties. It was unexpectedly sexy, the way he’d said that.

“O-okay.” She reluctantly hooked her fingers over the elastic waistband of her satin panties and pushed them down over her ass, down her legs. They moved easily from there down. She let go once they cleared her hips and they slipped to her ankles. She was too wobbly to step out of them without support, so she just stood there like that.

“Men and women look at asses in very different ways.” Something touched her butt, for just a split second, and every muscle in her back, legs, and buttocks clenched. A tiny gasp slipped from her lips. “I see a soft, round, perfect ass that would pink up sweetly when it’s paddled. There’s nothing hotter than watching a woman’s ass bouncing as she’s fucked. Little hard asses don’t bounce.”

God, she was going to die. “I suppose not.”

“Have you ever been paddled?”

Paddled? “Not since I was a child.”

“Does the thought of it make you hot?”

“I’m not sure.” That was the truth.

“Close your eyes.” He whispered in her ear. “Imagine I’m sitting on the couch and you’re bent over my knees.”

That was an image all too easily conjured up. It did warm her up a little. “Okay.”

“You’ve been bad, not terribly bad, just naughty enough to warrant a spanking. So I’ll use my hand, not a paddle. The first blow stings. You flinch. Heat radiates out from where my hand strikes you. Good heat. I do it again. Again. You thank me for each one, grateful for the fact that I care enough about you to punish you. The warmth on your ass travels down between your legs to your pussy. I stroke you there and your juices coat my fingers.”

Wow, she could almost feel everything he was describing. Her pussy was really warm now, her blood racing through her body, her heart thumping heavily in her chest.

“Are you wet?” he whispered, standing so close she could feel the heat radiating off his skin.

“Yes.” Definitely not a lie.

“Good.” He moved away and she almost stumbled, tripping over her underpants, still tangled around her ankles. “Go ahead and get dressed. I’ll give you some books to read, a questionnaire to fill out, and a contract. I’ll let you know my decision later today. If I do accept you, I will let you know when I would like you to come back. Oh, one last question. Do you orgasm on command?”

“I’ve…never tried.” She stooped down, yanked up her panties, and tripped and teetered herself back into her jeans, and then, feeling a little confused and used, she accepted the things he handed her and left.

Wow, that was one strange, nerve-racking, and intense experience. She wasn’t sure whether she hoped he would accept her or not.

The next evening, after a long day at work, Wynne glanced at the Arby’s and considered heading in for a quick sandwich and fries before diving into the glory of the used bookstore next door. But her raging hunger for books forced her to set aside the need for physical sustenance in favor of mental. It was late already, well past her usual dinner hour. The bookstore wouldn’t be open much longer. She would rather wait another hour to eat than miss out on getting a new book. Besides, she’d rather take her meal home and settle down to eat with a good book, rather than sit in a fast food restaurant by herself and feel like a loser.

Ready to replenish her dwindled to-be-read pile, she headed into the bookstore.

Ahhhh, home. The store smelled of dust and books and incense.

After greeting the store’s owner, a friendly woman of sixty-some-odd years, she made a beeline for the paranormal romance section in the back, hoping she’d find something she hadn’t read already. Not far away, a man was browsing the fantasy fiction section, his back turned to her. After a quick glance around, she concluded they were the only two customers in the store.

Back to the hunt.

She just loved book shopping. It was, she guessed, her way of exorcising a subconscious drive to search and hunt and claim. Her distant relatives, a zillion years ago, might have had to search for food, hunt for prey, conquer the land. The best she could do was hunt down the perfect book, search for a new author, or perhaps wander into a new genre. By the time she left, she would be adrift in a wave of adrenaline, feeling jittery in a very good way, a hefty bag of books in her arms.

She felt herself frowning as she checked the first shelf. Nothing new. Nothing interesting. After skimming the other two shelves in the section, she turned around…and saw
him
.

It was Dierk, from the dungeon.

And he most obviously recognized her.

“Hello, Wynne,” he said, his voice a low hum. He held a paperback novel in his hands, sort of sandwiched between them.

“Hello back, Dierk.” She nodded toward the book. “Looks like you’re having better luck than me today. I’m empty handed yet.”

“Yeah?” He lifted the book, letting her read the cover. “It’s a first edition. I’ve been looking for a copy for months. I never expected to find one signed by the author for less than thirty dollars.”

“Really?” She reached for the book. “May I?”

“Certainly.” He handed it to her. “Are you familiar with James Clemens?”

“Not at all. Is he good?”

“Excellent. I have everything he’s written, both under his Clemens pseudonym and his Rollins pen name.”

“Rollins?” Not really paying attention—how could she with Dierk standing there looking all amazing and talking books?—she skimmed the back cover copy. From what she did comprehend, the premise sounded pretty interesting, sort of the typical fantasy “evil versus good” theme. “That name sounds familiar.”

“
Subterranean
,
Ice Hunt
,
Sandstorm
,
Map of Bones
—”

“Yes!
Map of Bones
. I read that book. I liked it!” She handed the book back to him.

Their fingertips grazed.

Their gazes locked.

Some kind of electricity buzzed between them, and her insides fluttered.

“It was about religious relics, right?” she asked.

“Yes.” He extended his arm. “If you liked
Map of Bones
, I think you’ll like this, too.”

“But, it’s the book you’ve been looking for—”

“It’s okay. I’ll buy it from you once you’re finished, if you’ll sell it to me.”

“Of course I will. But I feel bad. You were so happy to have found it. What if I lose it or something?”

“Don’t worry about it. My life’s not over if I don’t get it back. Besides, all it was going to do was sit on a shelf with the other books in the series. I’d much rather it be read than collect dust. Now, if it was a first edition, first issue of one of the first three volumes of the
Lord of the Rings
, then I might not be so generous.”