Decadent Master (7 page)

His dark eyes. She saw them in her mind’s eye. His lips. His hands. Tapered fingers. Thick arms and hard, muscular body.

Her master. Master Dierk.

Her pussy clenched tighter. She was going to come. So close. Right there.

“Stop,” Rolf demanded.

Stop? She jerked her hands away from her quivering pussy. She’d been so fucking close. One more stroke. One more thrust and she would’ve been done.

Gasping and shaking and hot, she opened her eyes and looked at him. He was standing directly in front of her, with a perfect view of her burning pussy.

“Once you’ve caught your breath, you can start again.”

“That was harsh.” She started to draw her knees together, but he stopped her with a glare.

“You’ll thank me later. Don’t hide
my
pussy from me.”

His pussy. Wowwwww. Did that stoke some flames.

She really did get into this stuff. It was sexy and exciting, a dark thrill. “Okay.” She took one slow, long inhalation and released it. “I’m ready.”

He nodded. “Begin.”

Her pussy was still tingling and wet, and it didn’t take long for her to be shaking and burning on the verge of ecstasy again. She had her imagination to thank for that, as much as that thick dong gliding in and out of her clenching pussy. The images she conjured of Dierk were almost enough to make her come without touching herself.

Hot. Hotter. Tight. Wet. Need wound through her body and pulled her muscles into knots. She gasped and arched her back. “Please let me this time.”

“Let you what, precious?”

“Come. Please.”

“Not yet. Hold on.”

She stopped thrusting the dildo inside, just left it buried deep in her pussy. She slowed the strokes over her hard little clit, squeezed her eyelids closed and held her breath, hoping she could stop herself from coming.

“Not yet.”

Ohh, this was hard. And frustrating. And ohmygod, thrilling. She started shaking more violently, and it felt like huge waves of searing heat were billowing up her body.

Almost. One more stroke.

She stopped her hand. Her pussy twitched.

“Now.” Rolf whispered, his voice sounding exactly like Dierk’s. In that instant, she let it be Dierk’s. She passed her finger over her clit, pulled the dildo out, and jammed it in one last time. As an inferno blazed through her body, her back arched off the table. He said over and over, “Sparrow. Sparrow. Sparrow.”

Sparrow. She was a bird, flying, soaring, and swooping through the air, carried on a hot, turbulent current.

The contractions lasted and lasted. The rush pounded through her body again and again. It was an orgasm unlike any she’d ever had. Longer, and a hundred times more intense. So strong she felt it in every single cell of her body. From her scalp to the soles of her feet.

“Ahhhhhhhhhh,” she heard herself say as she rode wave after wave of ecstasy.

She had finally learned what an orgasm was supposed to feel like. And now that she had, she couldn’t wait to have another. And another and another.

With him. With Dierk. Even if it was only in her imagination.

Dierk gave his rigid cock one final swipe and heaved forward as his cum surged up and out, spilling into the trash can sitting at his feet.

Holy shit, what that little submissive did to him.

She was trouble, not because of who she was, but because of what she made him want.

He wanted her.

He wanted love.

But he couldn’t have either.

D
ierk wasn’t so much angry when he saw his brother Rolf pull Wynne’s file and hand it to Zane as he was concerned. There’d been rumors—which Zane denied, of course—that he didn’t exactly respect his submissives’ hard limits.

Being a Dom himself, Dierk knew there were times when a submissive might appreciate his or her limits being tested. And he also recognized the fact that there could be a fine line between testing limits and breaking them. So, he had put Zane on formal probation, warning him he would be watched at all times, including when he was in his private suite.

Zane had taken it better than Dierk had expected.

Still, Dierk had good reason to be worried when he heard that Zane was interested in scening with Wynne. She was very inexperienced and had little understanding of her own needs and limitations as a submissive yet.

“I think it’s a bad idea,” Dierk told Rolf when he returned to the office, Wynne’s file in his hand.

“She said she was open to scening with other Doms.”

Dierk leaned forward, narrowing his eyes. “And after what you told me about Zane my first night, you feel comfortable with this?”

Rolf glanced down at the file. “Not 100 percent, but if we both keep an eye on him, he won’t have a chance of getting carried away.”

That was bullshit. “Why even give him the chance?”

Studying Dierk’s face, Rolf set the file on his desk. “Because I felt Zane would give Wynne something I can’t. She’s searching yet, and I think it’s unfair to vet her options for her. She’s not mine. She made it clear she isn’t ready to commit to me or any other Dom.”

Dierk snatched up her file and opened it. He skimmed her application. “She doesn’t have enough experience to know if she’s over her head.”

“She has her safe word.”

Dierk waved Wynne’s file. “Are you convinced she’ll use it?”

Rolf’s nod was emphatic. “Yes. Positive.”

Dierk wasn’t so sure and his doubt must have shown, based on his brother’s reaction.

Rolf’s eyebrows rose. “You told me three new submissives joined the club this month. Not one. Three. Why is it I haven’t heard a word about any but Wynne? You’ve asked me how her training has been coming every single day.” Rolf crossed his arms over his chest. “What’s up? You have a thing for her? She’s pretty enough, so I couldn’t fault you if you did.”

“No, I don’t have ‘a thing’ for her. You know I don’t get emotionally involved with submissives.”

Rolf mumbled something.

“What was that?” Dierk asked.

“Um, just making a comment about the weather, is all.”

“Yeah, and I’m Napoleon.”

“I don’t think I’m going to comment on that one.” Rolf stood and gave him a pointed look. “The fact is, Wynne is an adult. She’s free to make her own decisions. And she has a right to scene with whomever she likes. I’m not going to discourage her. Not when there’s no reason to step in the way. Now, if that bastard steps outta line, I’ll be the first to move in. But not before.” Rolf headed toward the door. “Since you don’t get emotional about submissives, I don’t see any reason for you to stop her either.” He yanked open the office door, forcing Dierk to bite back an expletive.

He would not let his staff see him lose control.

He counted to five, took several deep breaths, and then, after the door was shut, kicked his desk a couple of times.

There was no getting around it: he’d have to watch her scene with that sonofabitch, Zane. Warranted or not, he didn’t trust him, not with any new submissive, and particularly not with Wynne. She was so delicate, fragile.

To see her spirit broken…he couldn’t think of it.

Standing in Twilight’s lobby, a black duffle bag at his feet, Rolf greeted Wynne with a smile. “There’s another Dom who would like to scene with you today. Would you be interested?”

Rolf’s words made Wynne’s heart hop in her chest. Could the other Dom be his brother Dierk? “Can you tell me who it is?”

Rolf considered her question for a moment before responding. “I would rather take you to him and let him introduce himself.”

That wasn’t the response she was hoping for. “Does he understand I’m new?”

“Yes. He is
most definitely
aware of that fact.”

Hmmm, the way Rolf had worded the answer to her first question had suggested it was a Dom she hadn’t met before. But the emphasis he placed on the second response made her think it could be Dierk. It was too soon to break into a happy dance, but she couldn’t help getting a little giddy. “Um, I’ll meet him and see where it goes from there.” She tried to hide her excitement, feeling it was a bit of an insult if she acted too excited. Like Rolf wasn’t good enough for her.

He was plenty good enough. That wasn’t the issue. She simply couldn’t explain her attraction to Dierk. It was different, unlike anything she’d ever felt before. Magical.

“If you’re feeling guilty, or afraid you’ll hurt my feelings, you won’t.” Rolf lifted the duffle. “I want to encourage you to experiment, try new Doms. You may find another Dom’s style fits you better than mine.”

Her respect for Rolf couldn’t be greater. “That’s very understanding.”

He handed her the bag. “I hope you’ll accept this.”

“What is it?” Unsure how to respond, she took it from him.

“I know you don’t own any gear yet, so I bought you the basics to get you started.”

“Wow, that is so generous.” That deserved a hug, which she was happy to deliver. “Thank you, Rolf.”

He gave her shoulders a pat and released her. “Now that that’s settled, I’ll take you to the other Dom.” Rolf led her through the main dungeon to the back hall, where all the private suites were located. He stopped in front of a door that was only a short distance from his and knocked.

The door opened.

It wasn’t Dierk.

She tried to hide her disappointment.

“Master Zane, this is Wynne.” Rolf took Wynne’s hand and set it on Zane’s, then stepped back. “Good-bye, Wynne.”

“G-good-bye.” Now really nervous, she gave Master Zane a quick up and down glance. He was big, dressed all in black. Very masculine and intimidating. Very…Dom.

Master Zane released her hand, took her duffle from her, and turned and walked into his private suite, leaving her to follow. Like she’d been taught by Master Rolf, she stood in the center of the room, doing her best to hold the position he’d taught her to present. Head down, arms pressed to her sides, hands clasped. Chest out, spine arched.

He unzipped her bag and inspected the contents. “I’ve read your profile, and I see you’ve had no pain tolerance training, sensory deprivation, or restraint.”

“No, Master, I haven’t. I wasn’t really looking for any intense pain play.”

“Pain tolerance training is generally part of a submissive’s instruction.”

Warning bells went off. “Um, I agreed to come and meet you, but I don’t think this is the right situation….” She started toward the door, but Master Zane stepped in front of her and gave her a menacing look.

He wasn’t going to let her leave?

About to freak out, she shuffled backward until her rear end hit something.

Rolf had assured her that all the Doms at Twilight followed the rules. He wouldn’t lie to her. He wouldn’t trick her. No way. Granted, she hadn’t known Rolf very long, but she felt he possessed a very strong sense of honor and morals.

“You must trust me.” Zane circled her slowly, his gaze sweeping up and down her body.

Easy for him to say.

“I approve of your clothing. Master Rolf has been training you well.” When he stopped directly in front of her, he crossed his arms over his chest. “I’m not accustomed to selling myself to a submissive, but I will tell you this: I have a great deal of experience and I am fully capable of reading a submissive’s body language. I will know, before you speak a word, whether or not I’ve pushed you too far.”

She wanted to believe him. She kind of did, but not because he inspired her trust by any word or deed. He sounded, looked, and acted tough. Inflexible. Rather, it was because Rolf had arranged for her to scene with him and she felt she could trust Rolf.

Rolf knew she was inexperienced.

Rolf knew she was unsure.

Rolf knew she had absolutely no tolerance to pain.

He had to know something she didn’t, or he wouldn’t have encouraged her to scene with this Dom.

She took a few deep breaths. “Okay.”

“If you need me to stop completely, for any reason, you will use the word ‘red.’ If you would like me to slow down or ease up, you will use the word ‘yellow,’ and if you would like me to increase the intensity, you will use the word ‘green.’”

“Yes, Master. Red. Yellow. Green.”

He gave her a curt nod. “Very well. Kneel.”

She knelt.

He went to the metal cabinet in the room’s corner, which she assumed served the same purpose as Rolf’s armoire. Sure enough, when he opened the doors she saw all kinds of ropes, chains, whips, floggers, crops, paddles, and who knew what else. It was one well-stocked bondage closet.

“I will use pieces from your kit today. You’re lacking some things, but that’s to be expected.” He pulled on surgical gloves.

Ack. He was going to wear latex gloves? What the heck was he going to do to her?

Her heart halted then kick-started into a wild beat. All kinds of terrifying images flashed through her mind, making her wish she didn’t have such a vivid imagination.

He pulled a black mask out of her bag, walked around her, and placed it over her eyes.

The world went dark.

Hands clenched tightly, fingernails digging into her palms, she kept reminding herself that Rolf wouldn’t put her in danger. And there were the cameras, thank God. Somebody would be watching.

Somebody.

Dierk?

“Undress, but leave on the corset and a G-string.”

“Yes, Master.”

It wasn’t exactly easy breezy getting herself out of the borrowed übertight latex miniskirt while blindfolded, but she managed, and within moments she was back on her knees again.

Her heart rate still hadn’t slowed. If anything, it was galloping at a quicker pace.

“My focus as a Dom is not on the sexual gratification of my submissives, so do not expect any kind of penetration, not by any part of my body or even a toy.”

“Yes, Master.” That was actually a relief. She found she could breathe a little easier, though she did wonder, then, what his focus was. She would soon find out, that was for sure. But in the interim, she was left to wait, wonder, imagine all sorts of shocking possibilities.

This was where she was having the biggest problem in all this. So much of the excitement of BDSM was built up by waiting, anticipating. But she’d never been fond of facing the unknown. She tended to drive the same route to places, even if a shorter one was discovered. Tended to shop at the same stores. Tended to live by her routine.

Waiting, anticipating, wondering. Those weren’t activities she willingly embraced.

Which was why she had surprised herself by not only enjoying her first encounter with Rolf as much as she had, but also agreeing to scene with another Dom, whose identity had been kept from her.

Her temporary master helped her to her feet and steered her toward a piece of furniture, a kneeler of some kind. He helped her get herself positioned on it: bent over a raised support, her butt up, legs wide apart. A minute later, her wrists were shackled to the supports, down near the floor.

Talk about feeling completely out of control, utterly vulnerable.

It was pretty frightening. Her spine was tight, her heart pounding with anticipation. But her pussy was also clenching as erotic heat gathered between her legs. She’d never guessed she would react this way to being tied up by a stranger. Never in a million years.

And here she’d thought she knew herself so well.

Something touched her butt. A soft something.

Totally driven by instinct, she tightened up her muscles and tucked her rear end down.

“No.” His voice was harsh. The little sting of pain that followed his reprimand wasn’t exactly friendly either. It took her completely by surprise, making her jerk up, yanking against her restraints.

Assuming he’d struck her—with what, she had no clue, but it hadn’t hurt bad, more caught her off guard—because she’d tipped her hips down, she rocked them back, lifting her butt up again.

The touch returned, and this time, she focused on holding her position. She did okay, it seemed, that time, but then she lost it when he touched a spot that was very ticklish.

She jerked.

A deep, “No,” followed, along with another whack on her buttocks.

The sting quickly turned to heat. And that heat radiated through her body in soft, slow, undulating waves. It was the most bizarre and unexpected sensation.

This time when he touched her ticklish spot again, she didn’t try so hard to keep still, and, as she expected, she was punished. Once again, the punishment was more pleasurable than painful.

She was starting to feel a little giddy.

She heard Master Zane walk away, listened to the clank of metal. She counted every single heavy footstep as he returned to her.

Another touch. This one right at the small of her back. One of her worst tickle spots. She bit her lip. There was no way she could avoid tightening her spine. Her hips rocked back, lifting her butt up higher.

There was a grunt of satisfaction. “That’s not what I was expecting, either, but I like it.”

Another sting. This one hurt a tiny bit, but the pain quickly turned to warmth. And that heat spread through her body again. Her breath quickened. Her heart hammered against her breastbone. A moan slipped from between her lips.

A hard slap came next, and it did hurt, and she yelped. It wasn’t so bad that she would have cried or anything, but it did get her attention. That sensation she would rather avoid in the future.

But then a moment later a strange rush zoomed through her body, wild and shocking. It almost felt like she’d swallowed a pill of some kind. She felt energetic and strong and buzzed, like she’d downed a half-dozen shots of tequilla.

“Ohhhh,” she heard herself moan.