Decadent Master (6 page)

“O-okay. If you aren’t going to be upset.” She tucked the book under her arm and touched the back of his hand with her fingertip. “Thank you.” It was only a gentle graze, hardly a touch at all, but the effect on her body was absolutely mind-blowing.

A bolt of heat shot up her arm, and her face became instantly hot, like someone had smacked it. Blind reflex had her jerking her hand back before she realized what she’d done.

If he noticed her reaction, he showed no outward sign. “Maybe you can tell me what you think after you’ve had a chance to read it.”

“I will.” She tightened her hold on the book. “Although you might not want to hear my opinion if it isn’t good. I tend to be pretty picky about books—”

A fingertip pressed to her lips cut off the rest of her sentence.

It wasn’t
her
fingertip.

Her eyes snapped to his again, and it felt like every molecule of oxygen was sucked from the room.

He had the most amazing eyes. Dark, piercing, probing. As he stood there silent, strong, and utterly dominant, it almost felt like he was trying to invade her mind, delve into her soul. “I want to know what you think, regardless.”

“Okay.” Her lips brushed against his finger as she spoke, and every nerve in her skin sizzled. A tense second of silence passed between them. One magical, incredible second. Then he snatched his hand away, the abrupt way he moved making her wonder if he was feeling as overwhelmed—and giddy and nervous and happy—as she was.

He turned slightly, presenting a partial profile. He glanced at his wristwatch. “Hmmm. Gotta get back to work.”

“Okay. Thanks again for the book.” She waved it at him.

They exchanged smiles. Another strange, awkward, tense moment. A few seconds later, he was gone and she was dizzy. She leaned back, letting the tall, substantial bookshelf behind her support her for a few moments.

An inhalation. Exhalation. Two more. Finally, she was feeling more like herself.

Wow, that was…just wow.

If she’d thought her attraction to the mysterious Master Dierk had been because of the dungeon, she was mistaken. Even in the middle of a bookstore, with the most unflattering lighting known to mankind, he made her head spin.

After picking up a couple more romance novels—she was suddenly in the mood to read a hot love story—she headed for the checkout. Even after her earlier intimate exchange with his brother Rolf, the entire time she was in the store her thoughts revolved around Dierk. Every description of a novel’s hero she read reminded her of him. The image of his face, those eyes, flashed through her head, over and over and over. And when she lifted her hand to her face, she caught just the slightest smell of his cologne on her fingertips. Again and again, she inhaled, drawing the tangy scent into her nose. It was masculine and spicy and intoxicating. She had to find out what it was.

“You’re all set,” the shop owner said, thrusting a slightly wrinkled bag at her.

Confused, she glanced down at her purse, still hanging from her shoulder, zipped shut. “Huh? I didn’t pay yet.”

“Your friend paid.”

“Oh. He did?”

“Yes. Hang on.” She signed a wide, short piece of paper and slipped it into an envelope. “Here you go. He gave me more than you needed, asked me to give you a gift certificate in the amount of the remaining money if any was left.”

“Wow, how…thoughtful.” She accepted the proffered envelope and tucked it into her purse. “Thanks.”

“Thank you and enjoy your books.”

Slightly off balance, she headed for her car. Once inside, she ripped open the envelope and pulled out the gift certificate.

“Oh no.” It was too much.

It was too sweet. Thoughtful. Kind.

Unexpected.

She folded the ninety-dollar gift certificate and placed it in her wallet.

Somehow, she would repay his thoughtfulness.

If only she could find a first edition, first issue of the
Lord of the Rings
. And if only she had some spare cash lying around. She had a sneaking suspicion that a first edition of
Lord of the Rings
would cost a whole lot more than she had in her piddly savings account.

“H
ey.” Kristy greeted Wynne as she casually strolled into their apartment. Sitting on the couch, legs crossed at the ankle, feet resting on the coffee table, and a Snuggie wrapped around her, Kristy looked nothing like the leather-clad seductress she’d been only yesterday.

“Hey,” Wynne echoed.

Kristy hadn’t asked for details yet, but Wynne knew she wouldn’t be able to resist for long. She wasn’t going to volunteer any information if she didn’t have to, partly because she wasn’t sure how to vocalize her feelings. She wasn’t sure what she was feeling about what happened tonight. There were good emotions and not-so-great ones twisting and churning inside, though it seemed like the good ones outnumbered the bad.

The first thing Wynne did was kick off her shoes and curl her toes into the soft, plush carpet. “What’re you watching?”

“
Tough Love
. I’m in love with the matchmaker dude. He cracks me up. But I hate the chicks. They are all so clueless. If only they’d listen to him.” After a beat, she added, “If he wasn’t out in Hollyweird, I’d hire him to find me a match.”

“What for? I thought you were in a semiserious relationship.”

“Yeah, well…” Kristy pulled the Snuggie tighter around her shoulders, and suddenly Wynne realized she’d been totally blind the last couple of days. Kristy had probably been so focused on Wynne’s personal life because her own had fallen apart. And Wynne had been too busy trying to deflect her attention to realize it.

She quickly abandoned all thoughts of a long, hot shower, and plopped onto the couch next to her hurting friend, and threw an arm over Kristy’s shoulder. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“Not really.”

“Okay.” Wynne gave her friend’s shoulder a squeeze and then, feeling like she was invading Kristy’s personal space, she pulled away a little to settle a comfortable distance away, but still close enough to let Kristy know she was there for her.

In silence, they watched the rest of the program. One girl decided a perfectly nice—though a smidge boring—guy wasn’t the right match for her. A second woman overreacted when her date asked why she was still single at thirty-nine, and a third pitched a hissy fit after the host told her acting slutty was going to put her in danger someday.

Finally, with the program putting an end to their distraction, they looked at each other, and Wynne knew this was it.

“How was your session with Master Rolf?” Kristy asked.

“I guess it was…okay.”

“Okay? That’s it? Do you want to tell me what happened?”

“At first, I felt so out of place I just wanted to turn around and run out of there. And making matters worse, he took me to watch two men. It was like driving a knife into my gut.”

Kristy grimaced. “Oh honey, I’m sorry. But you didn’t want me to tell him the truth.”

“No, I didn’t, so that’s the price I paid for keeping the truth from him. He didn’t know. But right away he caught on to my reaction and asked me what I was doing there.”

Kristy’s brows rose. She bent her legs, crossing them on the couch. “Did you tell him the truth?”

“No.”

Kristy looked like she was about to jump out of her skin. “Then what happened?”

“Well…” A few images flashed through Wynne’s head and her face warmed.

Kristy keyed into her reaction right away. “Wynnie?”

“He has this way of looking at me, of touching me. And, my gosh, the way he kisses…” She swallowed a sigh and giggled nervously, meeting Kristy’s wide-eyed gaze.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Before I realized it, I was in his private suite.”

Kristy leaned closer. “And…?”

“And I’ll admit, it wasn’t as scary as I thought. We didn’t really do much but talk, but what we did was really…intimate.”

“I knew it!” Kristy gave her shoulder a smack. “You’re a natural submissive. That’s why you and Johnny didn’t work out. He needs a partner who is more dominant.”

It hurt hearing that name, especially in this context. But for the first time, Wynne felt like she had a little glimmer of understanding about what had happened between them. Maybe, just maybe, it wasn’t something she’d done or failed to do. And maybe she wasn’t not-good-enough for him like she’d let herself believe all this time.

She simply wasn’t right.

More important, after today she could say for the first time that he probably wasn’t right for her either.

“Are you going back?” Kristy asked, giving her a nudge, both mental and physical.

Feeling a little better, all the way around, Wynne scooped up a throw pillow and hugged it to her chest. “He left a message on my phone, accepting me and asking me to come back again tomorrow.”

“And what are you going to do? Did you call him back yet?”

“I’m still thinking about it.” She dropped her chin onto the pillow. “I’ve been thinking about it all the way home. And now here, with you, talking is helping.”

Kristy dipped down, placing her face directly in front of hers. “Well?”

“I’m thinking…I might…I will.”

Kristy literally bounded to her feet and pumped her arms up and down. “Yessssss!”

Wynne broke into a hearty laugh. “Sheesh, girl! Don’t get too excited.”

“How could I not? This is a magical moment. At least, it’s made me forget about my problems for a while.”

“Well, in that case, good. Go ahead, jump up and down, do a happy dance, whatever you want.”

“Beats sitting around by myself eating a whole half-gallon of chocolate moose tracks ice cream.”

“Yes, it is a crime eating a whole half-gallon by yourself. But with me helping you, it’s totally okay.” Wynne headed for the freezer, returning a minute later with the carton and not one but two spoons. She handed one spoon to Kristy, flipped the container’s top open, and plunged her spoon into the center. “Let the celebrating begin.”

W
ynne pulled on the bottom of her borrowed skirt, hoping but doubting it was covering her ass. Her purse was slung over her shoulder, the completed questionnaire and contract clutched in her fist. She’d worn exactly what Master Rolf had told her to. She was beyond uncomfortable, nervous as hell, and unsure what she was supposed to do when she arrived at the dungeon.

She checked in at the front desk and was told Master Rolf had asked her to meet him in the main dungeon. She hoped he would be in clear view. The thought of wandering around in that room looking for him had her feeling a little nauseous.

For the bazillionth time, she questioned her sanity. And for the bazillionth time, she reminded herself she wasn’t doing anything dangerous and if things got out of control, she had a safe word and safe gesture and she was free to use them whenever she needed.

Making an effort not to look like a nervous newbie, she headed into the dungeon, completely distracted by the thought that her butt was hanging out of her skirt. She checked it again, brushing her hand down the back to make sure it hadn’t flipped up. It hadn’t.

She scanned the area. There were close to a dozen people scattered around the room. No Master Rolf.

Somebody tapped her shoulder. Hoping it was Rolf, she turned around.

Nope, not Rolf.

A cute brunette who was a carbon copy of Bettie Page handed her a folded piece of paper, then hurried away before Wynne could even thank her. Curious, and assuming it was an apology for being late or a request to reschedule, Wynne moved off to one side, unfolded the paper, and read it.

There was no signature.

Strip? Naked? This was crazy. She glanced around the room. Nobody seemed to notice her practically cowering in a corner. They were all busy doing whatever they were doing: whipping, paddling, chaining, writhing. Perhaps they were accustomed to this sort of thing and would completely ignore her?

She could only hope!

She briefly considered a hasty retreat. Public nudity wasn’t exactly something she was ready to explore. But then again, a small part of her was anxious to go for it, throw caution to the wind and see where this led. She couldn’t deny she’d enjoyed herself yesterday.

And what if he saw her? Dierk? Her pussy warmed. What if he was watching right now? With one of those security cameras. Trying not to make it obvious, she glanced at the closest one, positioned over the dungeon’s entry.

Oh hell, what did she have to lose? A little self-respect? She’d made a bigger fool of herself before and lived to tell the tale. She glanced to her right. The woman chained to the big cross wasn’t a perfect size two, but it wasn’t stopping her.

And that woman over there, kneeling, she had her fair share of cellulite, too.

Just go for it. You can do this.

Maybe.

It wasn’t the easiest thing she’d ever done, undressing in a large room full of strangers. But, shockingly, it wasn’t the most difficult either. She stood off to one side, partially hidden by a tall swing suspended from a metal frame. Nobody seemed to care what she was doing.

But she felt very small and vulnerable as she padded barefoot out to the center of the dungeon. Trembling hands clenched together, she lowered herself to her knees and then lay flat on the floor. The position, she quickly realized, was a relief. She felt somewhat hidden, since her vision was restricted.

“Well done.” It was Rolf’s voice. She lifted her head, but he stopped her, gently pressing it back down. “I didn’t release you yet. I have asked some fellow Doms to join me in a moment, and this is the position I need you to hold.”

“Okay.”

“Yes, Master,” he corrected.

“Yes, Master.”

She heard footsteps approaching, lots of them. Her heart beat harder, faster as they came closer. She was surrounded by people. She had no idea how many. And her ass was out there for them all to see. If only the floor could open up and swallow her whole, right now.

“This is a new submissive, Wynne,” Rolf said. “I would like you to tell me what you think of her ass.”

One man said. “That is one of the freshest asses I have seen in a long time.”

“I agree. Spankable,” commented another.

“I bet it’ll pink up really nice for you,” suggested a third.

“May I touch it?” asked a fourth.

Instinctively, Wynne clenched her butt muscles.

“Oh nice. Look at that,” commented a fifth.

“You’re welcome to touch, but only the ass,” Rolf told them.

Oh God, she was going to die of embarrassment.

Instantly, there were hands all over her butt, stroking, squeezing, massaging, slapping. At first, she was sure she was going to die of mortification, but gradually, after it went on for a while, the awkwardness faded and she started to enjoy the touches. It helped when she closed her eyes and imagined a certain person stroking her.

Dierk.

Was it possible he owned a pair of those hands that were kneading, pinching, smacking?

Such obedience.

Dierk focused the security camera on Wynne and zoomed in. If she truly hadn’t been in a dungeon before, it was remarkable that she would go that far the first time. Rolf had discussed her application with him last night, and he knew the little brunette’s main issue was a body image problem. He’d trained plenty of submissives with body image issues and none of them had stripped bare in a crowded dungeon the first time.

The girl had guts. He admired her for that.

He also admired her ass. It was round like he liked them, and he was sure it would pillow a hard cock very nicely. Too bad it wouldn’t be pillowing his.

He wasn’t too proud to say he wished he was out there touching her smooth skin, rewarding her for her obedience. Rolf would do a fine job training her. She wouldn’t be difficult, she’d already proven that. She didn’t need a harsher, more demanding master than his brother, and still he burned to be the one to bring her to the brink of her limits.

Rolf glanced up at the camera, as if he knew Dierk was there watching. Rolf narrowed his eyes for a split second then bent over and commanded Wynne to rise up on her feet.

He would take her to his private suite now. A flare of jealousy burned through Dierk’s body.

The cameras in Rolf’s suite had been shut off. He’d done that out of respect for his brother, a show of trust. But he was damn tempted to power them up. He could always come up with some excuse why they had to be switched on.

He reached for the computer that ran the system. His fingers hovered over the keys as he sat and watched Wynne and Rolf walk out of the main dungeon and down the single corridor that led to all the private suites. He watched them stop at Rolf’s door. He watched them go through it…watched the door close….

Should he? Shouldn’t he? No, he wouldn’t.

Gritting his teeth, he went back to the grunt work he’d been doing before she’d come in: ordering supplies for the bar. But he couldn’t stop thinking about her. Actually, he hadn’t stopped since he’d first seen her, and it was driving him nuts.

This was the last thing he needed.

Well, she was here, back in Rolf’s private bondage suite. Glancing around, she could see it didn’t have the same vibe it had last time. The walls were still painted the same hue. The artwork still hung in the same place. And yet, the room had taken on a more sinister feel. The table, which had been pushed against the wall, was now positioned in the center of the room. And the armoire doors hung wide open, the contents on display.

This was it. They weren’t going to chitchat today.

She had no clue what she should do once they were closed inside. Head over to the couch and sit? Climb up on that table? What?

After her gaze took a final lap around the room, she gave Rolf a questioning look.

He circled her. “Every Dom-sub relationship is different, so do not assume that what I want is what another Dom would want and vice versa.”

“Okay.”

“First, I will teach you how to properly kneel.” He pointed to a spot not far from the entry. “Here.”

She went to the place he indicated and knelt, resting her bottom on her heels.

“No, not like that.” He gently positioned her with his hands, lifting her up off her heels, lowering her head, arching her back. His touches were firm but not harsh, and his nearness was both unsettling and a little arousing. “Much better.” He sounded satisfied.

“Thank you. Master.”

He took a step back and crossed his arms over his chest. “Now, I will teach you how to present yourself to your master.”

She wondered what that involved. “Okay.”

“Whenever you enter this room, you will present yourself to me. What that means is you will take your position—standing if I am standing, and kneeling as I showed you if I am sitting—and wait for me to instruct you on what to do next. When you are presenting in a standing position, you will stand like this.” Once again, he used his hands to position her. Spine arched, arms held close to her sides, hands clasped behind her back, head down, shoulders back. “Yes, very nice.”

Like earlier, his touches were authoritative, not exactly sensual, but still pleasant. He didn’t touch any part of her that would be considered an erogenous zone, but she tingled all over anyway. His scent wafted to her nose, carried by the slight breeze his movement stirred. Heat radiated from his body, warming her as he circled around her, checking her position.

When he rounded her side, he tapped her bottom lightly. He stopped directly in front of her.

She stared down at his knees.

“You have surprised me today, precious. If you had any doubt that you’re a natural submissive, you should completely dismiss it. You are obedient, gentle, and eager to please, and any master would be lucky to have you. I expect several here at Twilight will approach me, to ask if they might train you. Because we have no contract between us, binding you to an exclusive relationship with me, you are free to accept an invitation from any Dom you like.”

Would Dierk be among the Doms who would approach her?

“O-okay,” she responded.

Rolf clasped his hands behind his back and strolled around her again. “You need not worry about your safety. All Doms at Twilight are committed to following our guidelines. To the letter. With your permission, I will file your application in the office, so that any Dom you scene with will have access to it.”

“Okay.” Right now, there was only one Dom at Twilight she wished to scene with, outside of Rolf. Dierk, of course.

She felt a little guilty about the fact that they were brothers. Rolf was gentle and encouraging, polite and patient, no doubt a good master for someone who was new to BDSM. But she couldn’t help feeling like she was doing something wrong because of her attraction to—correction, fascination with—his brother.

Maybe, if Dierk wasn’t interested, she’d be better off choosing a Dom who wasn’t his brother?

“One last thing and then we’ll be finished for today.” He patted the table. “Your reward.”

She slid up on the table, sitting with her legs dangling over the edge.

“How often do you masturbate?” he asked.

Her cheeks burned. Would she ever get used to talking so frankly and openly about this stuff? “Uh, not very often.”

“Do you have a hard time making yourself come?”

An even more awkward question. She shook her head and muttered, “Generally no.”

“Good.” He headed toward the armoire. “Do you use a toy or just your hands?”

When would this line of questioning end? “Usually just my hands.”

“Have you tried a dong? Dildo? Vibrator?”

“I have.”

He pulled out a wrapped dildo, medium sized, pretty much comparable to the average guy’s penis, and pretty darn lifelike. He unwrapped it, rolled a fresh rubber onto it, then handed it to her along with a tube of lube. “Okay.” He took a step back and nodded. “Go ahead.”

Go ahead?!
“Masturbate? Now? Here?”

“Yes, now. Would you deny yourself the reward you’ve earned?”

“No, but…” She’d never touched herself in front of anyone before. She wasn’t sure if she could make herself come when she knew she was being watched. She stared down at the rubber cock in her hand for a moment and then glanced at Rolf.

He didn’t look pleased. “I said, masturbate.”

Oddly his demand made her heart beat a little faster, little tingles spread through her system. Maybe the apprehension and vulnerability would work to her advantage?

“Y-yes, Master.”

She tended to come more easily when she was on her back, legs bent and spread wide apart. So she squirted some lube onto her fingertip, closed her eyes, lay down, and touched her clit.

Ooh, nice.

She set the dildo on the table, leaving it within reach, and used her free hand to part her labia. Oh yes, that felt good.

She started with slow circles, using gentle pressure. Gradually, things started happening. Little ripples of pleasure spread out from her center and her body started tightening. Stomach. Legs. Chest.

She increased the speed and pressure of her touches. It didn’t seem to be hindering her, knowing Rolf was standing nearby watching her. Waiting. In fact, it seemed to be helping. When she imagined him focused on her pussy, a wave of heat rushed up her chest.

Then she imagined Dierk was the one watching, and her blood began to boil. She clenched her pussy around burning emptiness, and reached blindly for the dildo.

She wanted to be filled, needed to be filled.

Getting closer.

Still stroking her clit, she pushed the dildo into her pussy as far as it could go, then clenched her muscles to amplify her pleasure. In her imagination, she saw Dierk standing over her, looking on sternly, her Master, waiting impatiently for her to come.

Hot. So hot.

Her legs began trembling. She stretched them as wide as she could and worked the dildo in and out in a steady rhythm that matched the rapid strokes over her clit. Her blood was pounding through her body now. Her skin was tingling all over. Sweat was trickling from her hairline. She kept going, driven to orgasm to please him. To please her master.