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Authors: Tawny Taylor

Tags: #Fiction, #Supernatural, #Vampires, #Erotic Fiction, #Paranormal Romance Stories

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BOOK: Decadent Master
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The fact was, she’d dragged them into territory Dierk wasn’t willing to explore. She couldn’t begin to guess why. But it was what it was, and he wasn’t trying to deceive her. He’d had some weak moments, but she couldn’t fault him for that. Not when he’d managed to keep from even kissing her. They’d discussed the nature of their relationship before their one and only time in the dungeon. And again, he’d told her he wasn’t able to pursue anything with her after her close call outside Twilight.

She wanted to keep prodding him for a more substantial explanation but she was beginning to feel whiny and clingy.

Which meant one of two things. Either she needed to somehow convince herself that friendship with him was enough, or she needed to sever the ties with him completely, hoping that would allow her to find someone else who was ready to travel the road to love with her.

If only she’d had the same feelings for Rolf or Zane as she did for Dierk. But she didn’t, and there wasn’t anything she could do about it.

If it couldn’t be Dierk, it couldn’t be any of them.

Her appetite was shot for the rest of the night.

She went home with a heavy heart and a carton full of steak, loaded baked potato, and salad. And she was as clueless as before about why Dierk was holding back.

That was not the outcome she’d hoped for.

14

“W
ynne’s here,” Rolf announced as he strolled into Dierk’s office.

Scowling, Dierk punched the
ENTER
button on his computer. The damn thing wasn’t running right. Again. “She is?”

“Yeah. Why do you sound so surprised about that?”

“No reason.” Dierk swallowed an expletive and reached down to manually power down the computer.

“Looks like you could use a break from that. Want to take my appointment with Wynne? I don’t think she’d complain.”

Dierk hit the
POWER
button, hoping the damn machine would start back up. “Nope. I won’t be scening with her again.”

“Does she know this yet?”

“Yes.” Frustrated about more than the computer, Dierk glanced up. “I told her before the first session and again afterward.”

Rolf gave him a funny look. “You’re sure?”

“Positive.” He looked at the monitor, hit
ENTER
a couple more times. Still nothing, dammit.

“Okay.” Rolf headed for the door, but before he left, he turned around. “Did…something happen between you two? I know you’re engaged and this thing with Wynne could only go so far. But it was beginning to look like—”

“No. I’m just busy, and I think it’s better if I keep my personal life apart from this place.”

After a long silence, Rolf nodded. “I see.”

Dierk fought with the virus-riddled computer for several more hours before finally giving up. By then, he’d vented all his frustration on the machine and was ready to head out to someplace loud where there’d be plenty of distraction. The last thing he needed was quiet. He didn’t want to think, didn’t want to relive those moments with Wynne last night, when the candlelight had been flickering in her eyes.

Dammit. No woman had invaded his mind like that one. Not even close. And he’d had hundreds, thousands of submissives, so many he’d lost count decades ago. For some reason, Wynne’s face was etched in his memory, burned there like a brand, and no matter how hard he tried—and tried he had—he couldn’t erase it. He saw that face every time he closed his eyes, even when he slept. It haunted him in his dreams.

When he was away from her, he could think about nothing else. He ached to see her, to hear her voice, to smell her. And when he was close to her, all he wanted was to taste her. To pull her essence inside and have it fill him. Even that wouldn’t be enough. He knew it.

He needed to possess her, make her his as only his kind could. But that could never happen. There were a couple of huge hurdles standing in his way, and there was no way he could clear either one of them.

Which meant there was no way in hell he could step inside a dungeon with her again. He couldn’t trust himself to see her, talk to her, let alone touch her. If he did, there was no telling what he might do.

He couldn’t imagine the consequences.

With dark thoughts for company, he waved at the head of security, letting him know he was leaving for the night, and headed out into the dark parking lot.

A sweet scent drifted to his nose, carried by a gentle evening breeze.

She was out there.

Instantly his body hardened. His cock surged to a full, painful erection. He didn’t have to search hard to find her; she was standing only a hundred yards away.

She wasn’t alone. Someone was touching her, holding her, maybe even kissing her. His blood chilled for an instant and then spiked hotter than acid.

He charged toward her, fury tearing through his body. His hands clenched into fists, his muscles pulled tight, preparing for battle. His eyes sharpened, adjusting to the darkness.

Rolf. She was with his brother Rolf.

Dierk halted, twisting around to hide behind an SUV. With any luck, she hadn’t seen him coming yet. Her eyes wouldn’t be as keen as his in the darkness.

Fuck, this was hard.

Her scent was stronger now, and he couldn’t help dragging in a deep lungful. How delicious she would taste. How delightful it would feel to have her soft body molded to his, her curves pressed against his hard planes.

No, he couldn’t think about that now.

He pressed his head back against the vehicle behind him and covered his face with his hands, trying to block that glorious scent from reaching his nose. If he’d been stronger, he would have walked away. But he wasn’t and he couldn’t. So, thanks to his weakness, he had to stand there and try not to draw in her intoxicating aroma, try to resist the sound of her sweet voice, a mesmerizing siren’s song, until he could gain control of his body again.

“I’m sorry I said something now,” he heard her say. Her voice was full of regret.

Dierk was sorry, too, but not because of anything she’d said or done. He was sorry he heard hurt and confusion in her voice.

“My brother has had his problems, but he would never intentionally hurt a woman.”

“I believe you,” she said.

“Maybe, like you said, it would be best if you didn’t come here for a while,” Rolf suggested.

Yes, that would be best,
Dierk agreed.

“I guess you’re right,” she said. “I felt like I owed you an explanation.”

“You don’t owe me anything. Call me if you need me,” Rolf offered.

Once again jealousy turned Dierk’s blood to acid.
If she needs him.
The thought made Dierk’s stomach clench, even though he knew Rolf was being kind. The problem was he knew how Rolf felt about her, how close he was to falling in love with her. That made this whole thing that much worse, for all of them.

He had no right to keep them apart, and yet that was exactly what he was doing. The sad truth was his heart had marked her, even though he had no right to act upon his claim.

He felt like such a shit.

How the hell was he going to get over her?

 

“I don’t know what’s worse: when you’re gone all the time and forget I exist, or when you’re locking yourself up in this apartment and living like a hermit.” Kristy gave Wynne the pout to end all pouts. “Come on, let’s go out and have some fun. I promise I won’t drag you to a strip club again.”

“I’m busy.” Wynne lifted the book she was pretending to read, which just happened to be the one Dierk had given her at the bookstore. “I promised someone I would read this book—”

“A book? That’s bullshit.” Kristy snatched the novel away, tossed it across the room, and glared at her. “Something’s wrong. Tell me.”

“Hey! That’s a signed first edition. I can’t believe you just threw it.” She stomped past her annoying friend to reclaim her book. “Outside of you being a pain in the butt, nothing’s wrong.” She found the abused novel lying on the floor behind a chair. There didn’t seem to be any damage, other than a little wrinkle on one corner of the cover. She smoothed it down.

“I’ve told you, you’re the world’s worst liar. You’ve been moping around here since the night you went out with Dierk. What happened? Why won’t you tell me?”

“I have not been
moping
.”

“Shall I look up the definition for you?”

“That won’t be necessary, thank you.”

Kristy, being the smart-ass she was, went to her laptop, typed in the word, and hit a button. “Mope. To move around slowly and aimlessly. To be apathetic, gloomy, or dazed. Yep, I’d say that’s a dead-on description of you lately.”

“Okay, okay.” Wynne snapped the book shut. There was no use pretending she was reading. They both knew she wasn’t. How could she, when all she could think about was a certain Dom. “I was waiting, hoping…”

“What?”

“I think I blew it with Dierk.” She sighed. “Correction, I
know
I blew it with Dierk.”

“Finally.” Kristy’s expression changed in a blink, from I-was-right to I’m-so-sorry. She plopped onto the couch beside Wynne and wrapped an arm around her shoulder. “Talk to me. Why didn’t you tell me before?”

“I don’t know. I guess I was trying not to think about it, and I knew talking about it, about him, would make me think…” Wynne sighed again. It hurt to think about him. A lot. “We were never a couple. We didn’t make any kind of promise or commitment to each other, and our relationship—it’s a stretch to even call it that—was based solely on role playing. Still, it hurts.” Wynne stared down at the book still clenched in her hands. She smoothed her palms over the cover. “I guess he played his part too well.”

“Oh honey.”

“That night we went out…I told him I wasn’t looking just for a Dom, I wanted more. I didn’t specifically say I wanted more from
him
, but I think he figured that out. I was hoping he’d tell me what was holding him back but he didn’t. All he did was tell me I needed to do what was best for me. The next night, when I went to the dungeon, I told his brother Rolf everything. Rolf didn’t offer any insight either. All he suggested was that I stay away from Twilight for a while, if that might make it easier for me.”

“That was a couple of weeks ago.”

She felt her shoulders slumping forward. “It feels like it’s been forever.”

“Of course it does.” Kristy gave her shoulder another squeeze. “I wish I could do or say something to make you feel better. I have heard he isn’t playing at Twilight. Not with anyone.”

Wynne couldn’t say whether that made her feel better or worse. Both, maybe.

After a minute or two, Kristy cleared her throat. “I heard about another dungeon opening up. The grand opening is in a couple of weeks, and of course, attendance is by invitation only. I’ve heard it’s going to be very exclusive.”

Another dungeon? Wynne’s mood sank even lower. “I don’t know, Kristy. If anything, this thing with Dierk has taught me that the casual bondage play stuff isn’t for me.”

“Hey, not all Doms are commitment phobic. In fact, a lot of them are in stable relationships. A relationship with a Dom can be really intense because of the level of trust you have to share.”

Wynne shook her head. “I’m sure.” The thought of starting a relationship with anyone but Dierk made her feel a little hollow inside. She honestly didn’t want to talk about it, think about it, and she sure didn’t want to go tromping off to another dungeon to be scoped out by other Doms. “But I’m not ready to go Dom-hunting right now.”

“No, I can see you’re not. I’m not going to try to talk you into going with me. But if you change your mind, let me know.” Kristy sat forward. It looked like she was getting ready to leave.

Good.

Wynne gave Kristy the best smile she could muster. “Thanks. Heading out?”

“I was thinking about it, but I feel bad—”

“Don’t feel bad. I’m fine. Really. Go, have some fun.” She made a shooing motion with her hands. “You’ll drive me crazy if you stick around here, hovering over me like a buzzard.”

Kristy laughed. “Okay. I’ll go. Buzzard, eh?” She stood, gave Wynne a very animated scowl, and headed toward her bedroom. “I think I should get another tattoo. I need a buzzard on my ass.”

Now that made Wynne smile.

 

It had been too long. Thanks to Dierk’s vow to keep work and play separate, he hadn’t stepped foot in a dungeon, outside of work, in weeks. He’d never gone that long, and damned if it wasn’t killing him.

As a business owner, he knew he should be worried about the new dungeon opening up in the area. Twilight’s numbers weren’t suffering yet, but he fully expected they would.

Yet, he was thankful to have another dungeon within driving distance. He would finally have an outlet for his darker needs. The urges had been building up, making him tense, short-tempered, and irritable.

He tucked the invitation into his tux pocket, snatched up his keys, and waved at Rolf as he headed out. Tonight was the grand opening. There’d be champagne, caviar, erotic art on display, and an exhibition featuring mild S and M. Tomorrow, he would take possession of his new private suite, and with luck, he’d find a new submissive to help him break it in.

He hoped there’d be some unfamiliar faces at tonight’s event.

Just in case, he tucked a few of his cards into his pocket—not the ones associated with Twilight, but the ones he’d had printed for nights like tonight.

Nights when he was on the hunt for a new submissive.

15

“Y
ou look maah-ve-lous, darling!” Bedecked in a slinky black dress that clung to her curves, Kristy slipped her thumb and middle finger between her lips and blew, producing a shrill whistle. It was such a Kristy thing to do. “You are so hawt.”

Feeling a little self-conscious, Wynne tugged at the strapless top. “What kind of woman was this thing made for? I’m not exactly small, and I don’t have enough boobage to fill it. Was it made to fit a double D?”

“No worries. I have something for that.” Kristy sauntered into her room, returning a second later with a set of pink silicone-filled inserts. “Here you go. Instant boobage.”

Scowling, her hands full of smooshy half-boob inserts, Wynne muttered, “Gee, thanks,” and headed into the bathroom to try them on for size.

Ironically, they did wonders. She just hoped they’d stay put in her strapless bra. If not…how embarrassing would it be to have one of those goofy-looking pink things drop out of the bottom of her dress.

“Why don’t they have Velcro or something?” she asked as she exited the bathroom, adjusting the dress she borrowed as she walked.

“They won’t go anywhere. Trust me. That plastic’ll stick to your skin like Saran Wrap.”

“In that case, ew! I hope you washed them.”

Kristy found her comment absolutely hysterical. “Of course I did, silly. Do you honestly think I would hand over what is basically dirty underwear to you?”

“No, I suppose you wouldn’t.”

“Okay. So are we ready to roll? You look fabulous. I look amazing. I say we’re good to go.” She sauntered across the living room.

Wynne followed. “Yes, I guess.”

At the door, Kristy rolled her eyes. “Don’t sound so excited. I didn’t twist your arm.”

“No, you didn’t.” Wynne trailed Kristy out the door. “I decided I would go all on my own, since it’s going to be more of a wine and cheese gathering, instead of a whips and chains one. Even I have to admit, I’ve been living like a hermit for long enough.”

“Exactly. You’ll meet some new people and hopefully forget about you know who….” Kristy gave her a weighted look. “I won’t mention his name tonight. I promise.”

“Thank you.”

Kristy kept her word as they drove to the new dungeon, located in a very secluded but gorgeous building in a nearby town. The sun had just slipped below the horizon and the sky was painted in deep purples with smudges of pinky peach. The towering trees behind the house blocked most of the remaining light, casting the front of the house in deep shadow and chilling the air.

“This house once belonged to some rich guy in the automotive industry. Chrysler, I think,” Kristy explained as they pulled into the small parking lot set off to one side. “He had to sell it after the company filed for bankruptcy.” When she stepped out of the car, she sighed. “Holy shit. Could you imagine living in a place this huge? It’s a freaking museum.”

Wynne mirrored Kristy. “Hell no. That would be way too much work for me.”

Kristy giggled. “Silly, if you could afford to live in a palace like this, you could afford to hire a couple of maids.”

“Good point. Oh, and while we’re dreaming, I’d hire a hot pool boy, too. Oh, and a tennis instructor with a to-die-for body. And of course they’d both work without shirts on.”

“I adore your imagination. Dream on, sweetheart!” Kristy tugged on her elbow. “Shall we?”

“I guess.”

They clacked across the parking lot, up the stone front steps and, after showing the man positioned at the door their invitation, stepped into the marble-tiled foyer.

“This place is insane,” Wynne muttered, trying not to look like a kid wandering into Disney World for the first time. At least twenty feet above them, an enormous crystal chandelier hung, the light casting little twinkling stars all over walls reaching up to the soaring ceiling overhead. Directly in front of them stood a counter where guests would check in. Right now, there was an attractive young woman standing in front of it, handing out some kind of gift bags.

Kristy made a beeline for her and Wynne followed.

“Welcome to Il Roseto.” The girl handed each of them a bag. “Inside you’ll find some information about our club, as well as a special thank-you gift.”

“Thanks.” Wynne peered inside before stepping aside to move out of the way.

“Over here.” Kristy grabbed her hand and pulled her toward a corridor. They stopped outside a set of double doors, a mass of humans creating a wall in front of them.

Wynne took the opportunity to dig into the bag.

“Holy shit, it’s Dierk,” Kristy whispered.

Wynne’s heart stopped.

A part of her had hoped he wouldn’t be here tonight, but another, the really stupid part, had hoped he would. She’d waxed and plucked and curled and primped; even she had to admit she’d never looked this good. The dress, as one would expect from a designer gown that cost the equivalent of one month’s salary, emphasized the parts it should and deemphasized the parts it shouldn’t. Thanks to the cut, and the Spanx she’d bought to wear under the gown, she looked like she’d lost ten pounds.

When her gaze met his, she knew all the trouble she’d gone to had been worth it. He looked like he’d seen an angel. It was almost comical. His open-mouthed stare did a great deal for her confidence until some chick—beautiful, of course—looped an arm around his and, following the line of his gaze, gave her an assessing stare.

Wynne’s first thought was to leave. Right now. Before things got any more uncomfortable. In fact, she started to act on her impulse. But she stopped herself after only one step.

The world of BDSM, particularly in this region, was a small one, and she was bound to run into Dierk if she was going to be a part of it. Somehow she had to learn how to deal with it.

Chin up. You’re a big girl. You can handle this
. She gave the woman what she hoped was a friendly smile before turning to Kristy. “There are exactly two BDSM dungeons within a hundred-mile radius, and he runs one of them. Of course he would be here.”

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah. I’ll put on my happy face. I promise I won’t make a scene.”

“That’s not the point,” Kristy whispered. “If this is too hard, say the word and we’re out of here.”

“No, I’m not going to ruin this for you.”

Kristy tipped her head and smiled. “I’m proud of you.”

“Oh for chrissakes, I didn’t invent the cure for cancer, I’m just dealing with an awkward situation like any mature adult would.”

“Still…” Kristy did a double take. “Looks like he’s coming this way.”

“Yeah, I see that.” Wynne pulled her lips back, hoping the expression would pass for a smile. “Do I look happy?”

“No, you look constipated.”

“Shit.” She let her face relax just before he was within arm’s length. The woman, who upon closer inspection was even more perfect than she’d looked from a distance, was still draped on his arm. However, the dress she wore was a nightmare. Hideous. Wynne did her best to pretend she wasn’t there. “Hello Dierk. It’s good seeing you again.”

“Wynne.” That was all he said. He just stood there, staring at her, a blank look on his face.

Was it her imagination, or was Dierk trying to pretend that chick wasn’t there, too?

“I’m Tabitha,” the chick said, extending an arm. She flashed perfectly straight, blindingly white teeth.

“Oh.” Dierk shook his head. “I apologize. Tabitha, this is Wynne. Wynne, Tabitha.”

Wynne didn’t want to shake her hand, but she did. “Nice to meet you,” she muttered, trying not to bust out in a guffaw.
Where did you find that hideous dress, the Salvation Army?
“I just
love
your gown.”

“Thank you.” Tabitha beamed.

Wynne thought she might puke.

“We met at Twilight,” Dierk explained, motioning to Wynne. “Wynne is—was—a member.”

“I see.” Tabitha answered with a nod.

“Yes. Twilight.” Wynne wanted to say more, like how she’d pretended Dierk had tied her up and fucked her until she came, over and over again. But she didn’t. She just shook the woman’s hand and turned to Kristy. “This is my friend, Mistress Raven.”

“It’s nice to meet you.” Tabitha took Kristy’s hand, gave it a shake, and released it. She patted her throat. “We were just about to get some champagne.”

“Okay,” Wynne said, sounding quite cheery to her own ears. The torture had gone on long enough. “Enjoy.” She grabbed Kristy’s arm. “We were heading into the dungeon. I see the crowd’s thinning. We’d better get when the getting’s good.” She gave Dierk one last look then stepped around them, tugging Kristy with her. “’Bye. I’m sure we’ll see you around.”

“You, my dear, should be up for an Oscar for that performance,” Kristy whispered in her ear.

“Really? I thought I sucked.”

“Ohmygod, no. I just about lost it when you complimented her on her dress.”

They shared a laugh as they strolled into the dungeon.

 

An angel. That was what Wynne had reminded him of tonight. That opal-hued gown, with the pleats and gathers, made a body he knew and craved look like a perfectly formed marble sculpture. Her hair was a mass of glossy mahogany curls and waves, tumbling over her bare shoulders. Her makeup made her eyes look wide and clear, her cheeks sculpted and lips plump. It had taken everything in him to keep from pulling her into his arms and tasting them.

Hell, he’d been so mesmerized by Wynne, he’d forgotten all about Tabitha for a moment. It bothered him that Wynne still held such power over him, even now, after weeks of being apart. He’d had hundreds of submissives in his lifetime; none had taken such a firm hold of him before.

What was it about her? Was it her lovely eyes? Her luscious mouth? That long, slender neck? Or perhaps it was something deeper….?

“Earth to Dierk.” Tabitha snapped her fingers in front of his eyes. When he met her gaze, she asked, “Have a nice trip? Where’d you go?”

“I apologize. I’m…not myself tonight.”

“Hmmmm.” She twisted her mouth into a grimace. “I’m feeling a migraine coming on. They hit me out of the blue sometimes. I think I’d better call it a night.”

“Do you need a ride home?”

“No, thank you. I’ll get home just fine. I’ll call for a car.” She gave him a kiss on the cheek. “Thank you for a very nice evening. It was good meeting you.”

“Yes, it was good meeting you, too.”

Tabitha took a couple steps away, turned, smiled over her shoulder, said, “I think I’m going to have to cancel tomorrow night. I…hope you work it out with Wynne,” and disappeared into the crowd, leaving him standing there, a glass of champagne in his hand.

Work what out with Wynne? There wasn’t anything to work out. They’d scened once. That was all. He wasn’t free to do anything else.

Even if he wanted to.

Shit, he had to get out of this town. Go far, far away.

Twilight was doing better, and he was hoping he could convince his brother Shadow it would run just fine without him. He had a life to get back to, one he’d once been perfectly content to live for the rest of his days.

Yes, he had a very nice life to get back to. Parties. Clubs. Dungeons.

He meandered through the crowd, lost in his thoughts. Until he saw her, standing in a corner, a glass of champagne lifted to her lips, a man he didn’t know hovering over her like a hawk circling its prey.

She hadn’t seen him yet. He had a chance to slip away unnoticed, to avoid what was sure to be another uncomfortable exchange.

He could turn around and walk away. He could.

No, he couldn’t.

As if she sensed his gaze upon her, she looked his way and smiled. And just like that, something snapped and it was over. There was no way he could walk away from her now.

I shouldn’t be doing this. I shouldn’t be doing this….
His gaze never left her face as he wove his way through the throng, men knotted up in their best tuxedos, women in the latest couture, precious gems dripping from earlobes and necks and wrists. Delicious, sweet blood pulsing through their veins.

None of them mattered. Only Wynne.

The hawk spotted another sparrow and flew off.

“You lost someone.” Wynne pointed at his empty arm, making him feel even shittier about their earlier conversation.

“Yeah, she had a headache. She decided to call it a night.”

“Mmmm. That’s too bad. I get headaches sometimes. They aren’t fun.”

He imagined her lying in bed, him sitting beside her, caressing her temples, rubbing her neck and shoulders. For some reason, he wanted more than her submission. He wanted to take care of her, to ease her pain when she was sick, to see love in her eyes when she lay beside him at night, to wipe her tears when she cried.

No, no, nonono.

Wynne emptied her glass in a series of quick gulps then set the empty champagne flute on a nearby table. Her gaze swept around the room. “Other than being ditched by your date, are you having a nice time?”

Her jealousy couldn’t be clearer if she’d been wearing a neon sign on her chest.

“Tabitha wasn’t my date,” he blurted.

“Oh?” She flagged a waiter carrying a tray of glasses of champagne and snatched two. She went to work emptying the first right away.

“No, she was someone Rolf introduced me to.”

Glass number one drained, Wynne set it down. “Well, I’d say from her boa constrictorlike grip on your arm she thought she was.” She raised her glass. “This is great champagne. She might’ve gotten rid of that headache if she’d had a glass or two. Or three.”

He gently removed the flute from Wynne’s slightly unsteady grip. “I’m thinking you’ve had more than a glass or two, or three.”

“Or five.” She giggled, and oh shit did he like the way that sounded. Sweet and guileless, like the song of an angel. “I don’t usually drink so much, but that champagne is really good. It’s like drinking Kool-Aid.”

“Where did Raven go?” He stole a glance around them.

“The little girls’ room.” Wynne’s sweet face pulled into a pretty little scowl. “She’s been gone a long time. Maybe I’d better go find her.” She stumbled, the hem of her dress catching on the heel of her shoe. He caught her before she fell.

Damn, it felt good holding her. She sank into his arms, her body molding to his for at least a dozen heartbeats. His cock instantly sprang to a painful erection. A surge of sensual energy charged through his system.

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