Decadent Master

by Tawny Taylor

  “Sure. Thank you.”

  Perched on the edge of the seat, she clenched her hands in her lap. Wasn’t this just her luck? She’d been so excited about tonight, and things were falling apart.

  She dug into her purse for her cell. If Rolf wasn’t going to make it, was there any rule against her approaching a Dom and asking him if he would train her?

  A Dom like…Dierk?

  She decided to call Kristy now, so that she’d be prepared when Dierk returned. Just in case.

  A subby had to take advantage of an opportunity as it arose. Right?

  She scrolled down to Kristy’s name and hit the call button. To her relief, Kristy answered on the second ring.

  “Hey, girl,” Kristy said. “What’s up? Didn’t you go to Twilight tonight?”

  “I’m here now.” Wynne walked over to the lobby’s corner, farthest from Dierk’s door, and turned to face the wall, hoping nobody would overhear her conversation.

  “And you’re on the phone with me?” Kristy’s voice clearly communicated her confusion.

  “Yeah, there might be a problem, so I wanted to ask you about protocol.”

  “Okay.”

  “Specifically, I wanted to know how a submissive approaches a Dom, to ask if he would be willing to have a session with her?”

  “Hmmm. Okay. My suggestion would be to present yourself, as you would for Rolf, and wait for the Dom to take the lead. If he doesn’t, then the meaning is clear.”

  “Okay. Got it.”

  “Good luck, sweetie.”

  “Thanks.” No sooner did she end the call than Dierk was back.

  Her heart kicked into overdrive, thumping along at a pace that would make a hummingbird’s look sluggish. She took her position, gaze lowered, arms pressed to her sides, hands clasped behind her back.

  “I’m sorry, but there was a misunderstanding,” Dierk told her.

  She said nothing. Instead, she remained perfectly still, silent.

  He didn’t speak. Didn’t move. For ten seconds. Thirty. A full minute.

  This was agony.

  Was she doing this right? Would he understand her message? And if so, would he accept her invitation or reject it?

  A heavy silence fell over her. Staring hard at the floor, she didn’t hear Dierk leave the room, but because she couldn’t see him, not even his feet, she couldn’t be sure he was still there either.

  Still nothing.

  Oh God, tell me I haven’t made an idiot of myself.

  The softest stream of air brushed across her shoulder and her nape prickled. Goose bumps erupted over her arms.

  Another gust tickled her neck. More goose bumps covered her chest.

  She shuddered.

  “This way,” he said, his voice husky.

  He said yes! Yesyesyes! She just barely managed to swallow down the wha-hooo of glee that shot up her throat.

  Keeping her gaze lowered and her arms snug against her sides, she followed Dierk down the hall, through a couple of doors and finally down a familiar corridor. They went to the very last room. He stepped inside first, and she followed, taking her place in the center of the room. She set her kit at her feet.

  This was it, the moment she’d been waiting for since the first time she’d seen Dierk. She was so excited, she could hardly keep still.

  It wasn’t easy to keep from grinning like a total dork either.

  He made her wait a long, long time before he said a word. It was pure torture. Keeping her gaze lowered, her head still, she glanced around the room. His private suite was larger than Rolf’s. What it lacked in design, it made up for in function. Every inch seemed to have been well planned, the bondage furniture placed to make optimum use of the space.

  “You must understand we can do this only once. I don’t take members as submissives. It isn’t in the club’s best interest. Nor is it in mine,” he said.

  She wondered, if he didn’t take club members as submissives, why did he need such a large, well-stocked bondage suite at the club? “I understand, Master.”

  “You will have no expectations outside of this one session?”

  “No, Master. I promise.”

  “Very well, then.” He left the room, exiting through a different door than the one they’d entered through. When he returned, his face was hidden by a mask. She was slightly disappointed, but of course she kept her discontent to herself.

  His face was something to behold. She would have liked to study it for the next hour.

  Perhaps that was exactly why he’d hidden it?

  “Come here,” he commanded.

  She walked to him, struggling to keep her gaze lowered. Her hands were literally trembling. She was shaking all over, actually, and not because she was scared like she had been with Master Zane, and not because she was feeling unsure like she had been with Rolf, but because she had been waiting for this chance for so long. She wanted it to be absolutely perfect.

  “Undress.”

  She started with the corset first. Looking down at his feet, but not really seeing anything, she unfastened each hook. In her mind’s eye, she imagined him watching her, his dark eyes stormy, filled with raw male hunger. Once she had it off, she let it slip from her fingertips, letting it fall to the floor.

  He said nothing, so she moved on to the skirt. It took just as much effort to work her way out of it as it did to get her in it. Adding an extra level of danger to the task, she was teetering on heels. She wasn’t big on wearing high-heeled shoes on a daily basis, not even a moderate two inches, so she wasn’t very steady on her feet. Twice he caught her at the waist and helped steady her. Twice she said a little prayer of thanks. Not because he’d saved her from injury but because of the sheer pleasure of receiving his touch.

  But as soon as she had righted herself, he removed his hands. It scared her how much she longed for them to return to her.

  Now she understood.

  This was what drove a submissive to such ends to pleasure her Master. She got it. Yes. She understood at last. The excruciating longing and overwhelming wish to please were enough to make her do almost anything. The reward: the ecstasy of a touch.

  She stood nude before him now. She didn’t know whether he was looking at her or not, but she felt something, like a current of electrically charged air drifting over her skin. Down her back, around the side, and up from the floor, up her thighs, to her stomach, chest, head.

  She couldn’t help it, she looked at him. Their gazes locked. She stopped breathing. The world fell away, and nothing existed but the dark spirits she saw swirling in his eyes. What was it she saw? What ghosts haunted his soul?

  How she wished she could learn more about this man, find out why he was possessed by such darkness.

  “Do not look at me,” he warned.

  It wasn’t easy, but she tore her gaze away. “I’m sorry, Master.”

  He snatched her kit up, plunked it on a nearby table and unzipped it. What toy would he choose, and what would he do with it? Anxious to get started, she listened to him searching through the contents.

  “I didn’t wish to start our session with a punishment, but you’ve forced me to.”

  “Yes, Master.”

  “The wall.”

  She lifted her gaze enough to see where he was directing her to go. Bolted to one wall were four chains. At the end of each chain were leather straps.

  Oh yes! He was going to chain her up. Her pussy thrumming, she went to the wall and turned to face him.

  He stopped her with a firm, “No.”

  Slightly disappointed, but not surprised, she turned around, spread her legs a little, and extended her arms out to the sides. He fastened a cuff around each of her limbs and then, without giving her a bit of warning, struck her with a whip.

  The pain shot down her spine like an electrical charge, but unlike the first time she’d been whipped, she held almost perfectly still. Then the heat followed, a stinging burn, on her right shoulder blade. The second time, he struck her on the
opposite shoulder blade. She curled her fingers into tight fists and braced herself for a third blow, but it didn’t come.

  Seconds ticked by.

  She felt the endorphins charging through her body, sweeping away the pain and replacing it with a deep, urgent carnal hunger.

  Would he touch her? Please? She ached for him so badly, she wanted to cry.

  Still, he did nothing. He didn’t release her. He didn’t touch her. He didn’t speak.

  Her need started to ease. Her muscles gradually softened. Her lungs slowly re-inflated. She inhaled deeply then exhaled.

  She heard him mutter something under his breath but couldn’t make out what he was saying. Was he still angry with her? Had she done something wrong?

  In any other situation, she would have turned around and simply asked him. But she couldn’t. Not in this context. It was frustrating enough to make her grit her teeth.

  Right now, she would pay any price to read his mind. What would happen next?

  He couldn’t do this.

  Dierk unfurled his fingers, letting the flogger drop to the floor.

  What the hell was wrong with him? Why did he feel the pain when those tails struck that smooth ivory skin? And why did his heart ache when he looked into Wynne’s eyes?

  Never had he reacted this way to a woman. He had no idea what to say, what to do. He felt like he wasn’t himself any longer and that his mind, heart, and spirit had been stolen away and replaced by someone else’s. Everything he’d known about himself was suddenly a lie.

  What the hell?

  He’d known it was going to be tough, even before he’d brought her back to his suite. But he hadn’t guessed how difficult it would be to remain detached, remote, or how strong the compulsion to take her as his own would be. Not until he’d closed the door.

  Now, it was too late.

  He was on the verge of losing a battle. If he touched her again, if even a single fingertip came into contact with her body anywhere, he would lose the fight. He would haul her against him and wrap his arms around her little body, press her sweet cheek against his chest, and bury his nose in her hair. He would whisper sweet words in her ear, promises.

  He couldn’t.

  He needed to stop this. Now. It wasn’t fair to Wynne. He knew what he’d seen in her eyes: hope, affection, longing. She could never be his, nor could he be hers. He belonged to another. It was a matter of duty and honor.

  His teeth gritted, he jerked the mask off. It hadn’t done any good; he couldn’t hide the truth from Wynne, no more than he could hide it from himself. He wasn’t just attracted to her, he was mesmerized.

  “We can’t do this again.” He watched her spine stiffen.

  She didn’t speak.

  His heart heavy, he released her from the shackles. He tried not to look at her luscious body, not admire the curve of her hips, the soft swell of her stomach and the full heaviness of her breasts. Beautiful. Perfect. Temptation like he’d never seen before.

  He was in hell.

  He stepped back. “Get dressed and you are free to go.”

  “Yes, Master.”

  He stared down at the flogger, lying on the floor. The hurt and disappointment he heard in her voice made him want to strike himself with it.

  He’d done his best, but he was too fucking weak. He couldn’t stand that close to this woman and not want to touch her. He couldn’t see her nude and not burn to take her. He couldn’t look into her eyes and not ache to protect her.

  He hadn’t thought it was possible, but he had met his Achilles’ heel: the one thing, or rather one person, who could destroy him.

  For the sake of all of them, especially Wynne, he had to make sure he was never in the same room with her again.

  “Thank you, Master,” she mumbled.

  Dammit. He felt his whole body stiffen. He couldn’t look at her. Could. Not. Look. “Remember, we can’t do this again.” He headed toward the door, opened it, stepped out. But before he moved out of her sight, he turned and snapped, “And stay away from Zane.”

  Cursing himself, he hurried toward the club’s back emergency exit. He needed some air, space, time, quiet.

  10

  Well, that wasn’t what she’d expected, not that she could really say what she’d been hoping for when he had finally agreed to have a session with her.

  It was…uncomfortable, awkward, almost like he didn’t know what to do with her.

  Was that her fault?

  Hoping she’d get a chance to talk to Kristy about it later, she slung her bag over her shoulder and left his suite, closing the door behind her. She saw a sign for a fire exit, and, feeling a little out of sorts, decided she’d go out that way, rather than tromping through the main dungeon toward the building’s front.

  Not sure if she’d set off an alarm, she pushed on the door. No bells. No blinking lights. She was good. She hurried out, stepping into a still, moonless night. The fresh air felt good. It brushed across her skin in a gentle current, cooling it. She took a quick look around, decided she was alone, but not exactly in the safest place. An alley, connecting the two main roads running north and south on either side of the block, ran behind the building. It was deserted, dark, and isolated.

  A little tense, and shivering at the creepy somebody-is-watching-me feeling buzzing through her, she hurried toward the side of the building. As she stepped around the corner, she caught sight of a vehicle parked by the side of the building.

  A few seconds later, she realized it wasn’t parked.

  Too late.

  She screamed and tried to move, but it felt like her brain had become disconnected from her body. She couldn’t react fast enough.

  Something struck her from behind. The world became a blur of black and white and suddenly she felt like she was floating.

  A split second later, she realized she was being carried.

  Who?

  Dierk. Watching the speeding car careen around the corner, she looped her arm around his neck.

  Dierk had saved her life.

  He stopped at the front corner of the building. They were hidden, cloaked in a heavy, cool shadow created by the lights illuminating the building’s front entrance. He gazed into her eyes for a moment, then gently set her on her feet.

  Unsteady and breathless, she turned to face him and swung her other arm up. She tangled her fingers in his hair. “T-thank you.”

  He tipped his head, bringing it closer, closer. Was he going to kiss her? Yes, yes, yes! She held her breath and closed her eyes.

  “You’re welcome.” His whispered words hummed through her body like a low-voltage current.

  Tingly, she rose up on tiptoes and simultaneously pulled on his neck.

  “Dierk?” What was he waiting for, a formal invitation? If he couldn’t read this girl’s body language, he was blind.

  One second passed, two, three, four, five. When her calf muscles started twitching, she sank down onto her heels. She let go of his neck, letting her arms fall to the sides.

  Dierk stepped back.

  She wished she could just die right now.

  Suddenly, she realized she was barefoot. Where were her shoes? Her bag? “I-I think I dropped my things.”

  “I’ll get them. Wait here.” He turned away.

  Still a little shaky, she watched him fade into the blackness.

  She took the time while he was away, gathering her possessions, to collect her wits. Maybe Dierk was sending somewhat mixed signals. At times, he seemed to be attracted to her. Others, he seemed to be intentionally pushing her away. But most of the time, he was pushing her away.

  So why did she keep hanging onto those other moments, when the chemistry between them was more potent than nuclear fission? Why couldn’t she accept he didn’t want any kind of relationship with her?

  Was he married? Or in a committed relationship? God, that possibility hadn’t crossed her mind, not once.

  She wasn’t sure what made her feel worse: practically throwing herself
at a man who didn’t want her, or imagining Dierk hugging, kissing, holding another woman.

  Her mood sinking, she leaned back, letting the building support her. Dierk materialized out of the gloom a few moments later. He held some things cradled in his arms, strong limbs that had once been cradling her.

  Was it possible to be jealous of a duffle bag?

  “I’m afraid some of your things were damaged,” he said.

  “That’s okay.”

  “I’m not sure I found everything. It was scattered. I could only locate one shoe.”

  “No biggie,” she lied. Kristy was going to be none too happy to learn one of her expensive shoes had gone missing. But right now, Wynne couldn’t care less. “As long as I have my keys and my driver’s license, I’m good.”

  “Those, I found.” He tipped his head toward the parking lot. “I’ll take these to your car. Where are you parked?”

  “Not far.” Barefoot, she padded between some parked cars, heading for hers. She was painfully aware of Dierk: when she led him to her vehicle, when she unlocked the door, and when she bent down to flip the driver’s seat forward so he could put her stuff on the back seat.

  He straightened up. “Okay. Drive safely.”

  “Will do.” Another awkward moment. “Thank you for the book store gift certificate. And thank you again for saving my life. I didn’t realize that car was moving until it was too late. And then I was frozen.” She chuckled nervously. “I have a new appreciation for how a deer feels when it’s caught on a freeway, staring at an oncoming semi truck.”

  “I happened to be there.” After a beat, he added, “Please don’t use that back door again. The alley isn’t safe.”

  “You have my word.” She bit her lip. A part of her wanted to say something about the session, and what had happened just now, when she’d practically begged him to kiss her. The other part—the logical one—was telling her there was no point. When he turned to walk away, the illogical part took action. “Wait,” she called.

  He glanced over his shoulder.

  “About tonight. Our session—”

  “I apologize. I shouldn’t have taken you back to my suite. I wasn’t comfortable with it, and I shouldn’t have done it.”