Myka shook her head to gather her thoughts. “So during your scene, he spanked you pretty hard. You were crying. Then he used the cane. It looked painful. Did you really want it that hard?”
Jessica tilted her head. “Well, it was painful. The cane is vicious. But the punishment can turn me on if he lets me. Partly because him being dominant turns me on. But it also feels—I don’t know how to describe it, Myka. For me, a mix of pain and pleasure is the ultimate sexual combination, and when he does it right, my orgasms are out of this world. I mean, phenomenal, brutally awesome. And today he allowed me to have an orgasm after the punishment.” She smiled. “Thank God.”
Myka thought about it. “So you do like the pain?”
Jessie looked up for a minute. “No. I wouldn’t say that I like the pain. But the other feeling right after the spank comes down? It’s a warmth, a tingling, an increase in my arousal. And after a while, even though it hurts, it also releases some great feeling in my entire body. I guess you could say that the pain sparks more pleasure, and he knows the right amount of pain to get me into my zone. If he went further, then the pain would trump the pleasure. And if he doesn’t go far enough? Then I don’t get pushed into that place where I’m flying.” Her voice was dreamy as she spoke.
“So… you don’t do this just because he wants you to?” Myka didn’t know if the question made sense. Surely if Jessie were brainwashed, she wouldn’t know it.
Jessica shook her head. “We both like this relationship. We didn’t start out this intense; it grew into this after a few years.”
“So was it punishment, or not punishment? I don’t get it.” This was the thing that had Myka confused.
Jessie shrugged. “It’s both, and neither. I can’t exactly explain. It’s—you’d have to do it to get it, I think. I mean, yes—he was punishing me for something. But then, like I said, it has the ability to bring me this huge pleasure, and he wants me to enjoy it too, and the whole dynamic is something I love, so—I don’t know how to describe it.” She put her hands up and smiled. “Sorry.”
Myka asked the other thing that bothered her. “Do you really want to have a sore butt all week? How can you manage work and life?” Myka pulled at a fingernail.
Jessica smiled. “Oh, it’s not that bad. I heal fast and we’d never do anything that would jeopardize my career. By Monday I’ll be fine to sit in a chair for hours and be able to fully concentrate. I like the lingering sting and tingle afterwards—it makes me feel aroused, excited. I love remembering what we did, how I have the power to make him get this dominant. We do what works, you know?”
Myka didn’t know, not really. “But you can’t do it this rough every night, right? That doesn’t seem like it would be healthy. I mean, right?” She tried not to sound judgmental, but she was concerned.
Jessica giggled again, then stifled it with her palm. “I’m not laughing at you. It’s funny how I had identical questions at first. No. We don’t do this all the time.” She adjusted her blanket around her shoulders. “He’ll give me a good spanking maybe once or twice a week, but it depends on how I’m feeling, how he’s feeling, our schedules. It’s about respecting your own body and your own limits, and doing what works.”
Myka nodded. “Okay. So, tonight. I mean, if the caning hurt too much? You would have told him to stop? And he wouldn’t give you a hard time about it?”
Jessie’s smile was small and pleased. “He would stop anything if I used my safeword. There have even been times when I told him to keep going and he stopped anyway, because he was concerned it was too much, or because I had a cold or a sore shoulder or something. I mean, we’re a couple first, and kink comes second. I have never for a second worried about him abusing me or taking advantage.”
Myka bit her lip. “It looked so painful. I don’t know how you can handle it.”
Jessie spoke with a little spark of something in her voice. “I handle it because I love the whole dynamic, being his sub. You do get more used to it. You can’t start out doing what I do. Not that I’m super hardcore, even, compared to some women. For example, I’m nothing like Rachel used to be when she came here. Honestly, it blew my mind more than once to see what she could take, what she wanted to take. But Brett and I are honest with each other and it has to be what works for me, for us. You can’t compare, you know? Once I got that straight, I was fine.”
A cold finger of doubt tickled along Myka’s spine, a tease, a taunt. “You mean Gabriel’s—ex? His old sub? She was… into a lot of… stuff?”
“Mmm hmm.”
Myka wasn’t sure she could handle hearing more about Rachel right this minute, so she decided to wrap up her questions. “Thank you. Hearing from a real person is more helpful than reading online.”
“I remember doing web searches,” Jessica commented. “Now I don’t need to. Gabe is so selective with the membership, and we’ve made friends here. Even the people we don’t hang out with, they’re still trustworthy. That’s a pretty big deal.”
Myka still felt cold chills when she thought about Marcus from Dark Sin. “Yeah. I can see how it would be.”
Male voices and a deep chuckle intruded into their space, and Jessie looked across the room. “The guys are returning with drinkage, so tell you what. I’ll give you my number. Why don’t you call me and we can get together for coffee, talk more?”
“I’d like that,” said Myka. She entered the data into her phone, wondering if she should start a whole BDSM section.
Gabriel touched her shoulder, so she thanked Jessica again and followed him to the smaller room, to the same couch. He had more water, but this time Myka put it aside onto a small table. “So?” he asked, leaning forward. “Did you find out what you needed to know?”
“She told me that she did like it,” admitted Myka. “And I believe her.”
“Do you still worry that she’s broken inside, to want this? To need this?” Gabriel’s voice was casual, but his body was taut. Myka could tell that there was much riding on her reply.
She shook her head. “I don’t think Jessica is broken. Just different.” She paused. “It’s overwhelming—the fact that you are not just into domination, but that you’re really into kink and domination—and even own a club. That you like to give pain. It’s scary. It seems a little risky.”
His hand was warm and strong as he held hers and squeezed. “I’m into pain used with pleasure, to the level that both people want. My limits are relatively tame, compared to how some people play, but I run the club according to my principles, and I’ve found a lot of like-minded people. You’re right—there is still risk. This lifestyle includes pain that comes from hitting and otherwise damaging a body, even if it’s mild damage—and there’s no way around it. It’s not always sane, and anyone who says otherwise is lying to themselves. I’m responsible and I always respect limits. And remember, it’s about pleasure and enjoyment at the end of the day. Some of us use a more complex path to get there than the rest of the population.”
“It’s a little mind-blowing.” She took a deep breath.
Gabriel nodded. “Want more water?” He took the bottle from the table near the couch and handed it to her. His face held concern. “Are you feeling all right?”
She twisted the bottle lid and took a deep sip. “It’s like someone peeled up the sidewalk in my nice suburban neighborhood, and I discovered a whole new insane world below my feet, a crazy land made of circuses and angels and devils. And the things I might like are all mixed up in the same tent with the things that scare me. And everything is turned upside down and the rules are all written in Greek neon letters, and keep changing every time I take another step. “
Gabriel laughed. “You get to make your own rules, Myka. Nobody but you will ever control what you do here. Or anywhere else, am I right?” He raised one eyebrow at her. “I think you are a person who goes after what she wants. And won’t accept less.”
“I like to think I am, at least most of the time.” Myka held the cool bottle agains
t her forehead. “And thanks. For—rescuing me earlier, at Dark Sin. I could have handled myself, but it was nice to have help. And thanks for, ah, showing me this place. Your place. I still can’t get over the fact that this is—yours.”
Gabriel brushed his fingers over her thigh. Myka caught her breath, and he met her eyes, a question in them, his hand stilling. Myka didn’t pull her body away, but simply laid her hand on top of his, feeling the warmth of his touch on her leg, sending sparks through her.
“Are you interested in pursuing anything with me, now that you’ve seen this place?” His voice was a low murmur, his lips against her neck. “To try the things that make you curious and hot? Or is it far too much for you to accept in a partner, and you prefer to continue our association as mere… friends?”
Myka had never felt so much desire for a man, yet there was enough apprehension to make her falter. “I want to try the things I told you before, but I’m—nervous. And I can’t do anything in front of other people right now. Maybe never. Actually, I’m sure never. Is that a deal-breaker for you? The fact that maybe I’ll never get to where you are? And that I will have specific limits and I don’t like some things involved in all of this—” she waved her hand, “BDSM… stuff? If I’m not a slave-y person?”
He touched her neck where his lips had landed, and let his fingers linger, a warm promise. “I don’t want a slave, Myka. I want a submissive, a strong, powerful submissive who knows her own mind and partners with me so we can achieve amazing pleasure together. I want someone who’s not afraid to say no when it doesn’t work for her. And who’s not afraid to say yes, when it does.”
Myka made a small noise in her throat, willing him to bring his lips to hers. She wanted to feel his skin against her skin, to lose herself in his touch. She wanted to chase away the disturbing thoughts in her head with his kiss and his passion, because with him, it felt right. Nothing was scary or odd about Gabriel… and she trusted that he would treat her with care.
“Yes,” she answered. “I say yes. I want to try this with you.”
He let his lips drift closer and brushed hers before he drew back. “Good. We’ll meet again once you’re ready.”
Myka stood up, legs shaky. She could feel his restraint in his tense body and his tight jaw. “So we’re still on for that chicken dinner?” she asked, raising her eyebrow at him.
Gabriel shook his head, smiled. “If you were mine, ma chèrie, you’d be over my lap for that chicken comment.”
“Too bad, then, that I’m not yours,” Myka responded with a jaunty grin, her stomach lurching with anticipation.
“Yet,” Gabriel whispered into her ear. “Not yet. Let me take you home before I change my mind and ravish you right here.”
Chapter Five
Myka was out of sorts the next morning. She was frustrated over her still unfulfilled lust for Gabriel, yet appreciative that he was giving her time to think things through before taking her to bed. In addition, she had concern and irritation for Kylee, and rage at Kylee’s asshole manager.
She did a bit of work for the next show, which was going to be in Paris the following week, shaking her head at the strange globetrotting schedule Christopher had set up. It made no sense to flip from Europe to the states and back; why didn’t they knock out Europe all at once? Many of his other decisions seemed so savvy, almost like he could read the market and the mind of the public.
Noon came quickly, and she put away her laptop and took a cab to a nearby organic vegan buffet, eager for lunch with Lourdes. She was anxious about disclosing her updates, but unable to hold back, she blurted it out as soon as they sat down, their plates loaded with green. “Lourdes. I have to tell you something important,” she offered, playing with her salad, her voice coming out more formal than she intended.
“What?” Lourdes looked up, wrinkling her brow.
“It’s about Gabriel. Okay. Listen. Please don’t freak out. Lourdes, have you ever heard the term, Bee Dee Ess Emm?” She said it distinctly, uncomfortable even saying the word to her bestie, but determined to get it out there so they could get past it. “As in, my new man owns that kind of club?”
“Gabriel? Mr. Millionaire rocket scientist handsome guy? Are you telling me he’s a crazy whip-wielding fiend who ties people up in chains?” Lourdes stabbed at a cherry tomato while popping her head up at Myka, and the small fruit bobbed out from the tines, unscathed, landing in a splotch of dressing on the table.
Myka stifled a nervous giggle while Lourdes picked up the tomato, examined it, and popped it into her mouth.
“Not like the stereotype. It’s different. But yes, he’s into it,” Myka verified. “And he invited me for a personal demonstration.”
“Okay, that’s crazy. And you went? What did you—what—how was it?”
Myka flushed. “It was interesting. Fascinating. He asked me… if I wanted to try it, with him.”
Lourdes jerked her head up, stopped chewing, and examined Myla with narrowed eyes. Her shoulders looked tight. “Are you seriously going to do that stuff with him? Oh, my God. Have you already done it?”
“Not yet. And it’s about more than whips and chains. A lot of it is about control. I’ve been doing reading and research on the Internet. The demonstration was that he invited me to his private club and I got to see people… doing stuff.” She considered, and added, “I signed a form saying I wouldn’t ever tell anyone’s name or personal information, but I guess I can tell you general things. If you want to hear them?”
She wasn’t sure Lourdes did. Her friend, while relatively progressive, came from a conservative Catholic family, and although the two women enjoyed joking about sex, Myka knew that Lourdes was circumspect in how far she went on dates, preferring to become intimate after a long time in a serious relationship. She knew for sure that Lourdes had sex with her ex-fiancé. But Lourdes hadn’t dated since her breakup last year. And Myka knew that Lourdes was not into kink.
Lourdes aimed her fork at another cherry tomato, hesitated, and picked up the oblong red fruit with her fingers. “I guess you can tell me a little?”
“If you do it the right way, it’s all consensual. Sometimes a person enjoys, say, getting—well, getting spanked. On their, you know, butt. Pretty hard, until it hurts, with a paddle or hand. But then it also, for these people, it also makes them feel good.”
She didn’t think she was explaining it well, but Lourdes nodded. “Like that one episode of CSI, right? A woman dressed in a black cat suit with stilettos and a whip? And the guy screams but he always comes back for more?”
“Uh.” Myka thought. “Not exactly. I mean, yes, they could do that, but the people I saw weren’t dressed like that. Everyone was more, you know, normal? They were just having sex and spanking each other and things in the club.”
“And you seriously want to try that?” Lourdes’ voice held a note of concern, then her face wrinkled. “I mean, are you going to do it to him? Or will he do it—to you?”
“Not me! I mean, he’ll do it to me. I don’t want to be the one holding the whip.”
Lourdes cringed a little bit. “And these things happen in public… with other people? Around?” Her voice trailed off.
“They do sometimes, but I won’t. I’m not into being on display. But I think in private, if I’m alone with him—I mean, don’t think I’m gross or weird, but I want to try it.” She shot Lourdes a defensive look. “I want to try a little pain mixed with the pleasure, because I think I might like it.”
“I think I would prefer a little pleasure mixed in with the pleasure.” Lourdes raised an eyebrow. She crossed her arms over her chest and swallowed.
“Well, so far, so have I,” Myka replied. “But to be honest, some of the BDSM stuff seems kind of hot…” Her voice trailed off and she coughed on a crouton, thinking of Gabriel’s voice: “I just want to have you.”
“Between the two of us, they’re going to bring over the kid placemats,” said Lourdes, grimacing and wiping crumbs from her sweater.
“Oh, God. Did I spit that far?”
“Yes. You did. Now why did I come home early from my dig?” scolded Lourdes, and both women giggled. Myka thought they both needed to laugh as a break from the intense topic.
Lourdes refocused on Myka. “So, I mean, is he going to tie you up and… s-spank you? What sorts of other things… do you want to try?” Her voice was cautious, her face red. Her hand clenched on her fork.
Myka turned red, too. “I don’t know if I want to go into that. I don’t even know yet. I’m going to let him lead and show me.”
Lourdes made a grimace, but turned it into a smile. She added, “Well, more power to you. Tell me when you get your kink card stamped and I’ll buy you a big girl drink at Sky Bar.” The smile didn’t quite reach her eyes.
“Shut up.” Myka picked up a crouton and tossed it at Lourdes, and the two laughed for a minute when it fell short, landing dangerously close to an elderly woman’s ankle at the next table. Then Myka got quiet. “Do you think I’m crazy to want to try this?”
Lourdes pushed some salad leaves with her knife. “Honestly? It seems dangerous. And I don’t—I mean, to me, sex is about enjoyment and more important, love. In fact, I—recently I decided that I won’t—actually, never mind, that’s not relevant.” She paused, her eyes searching Myka’s. “You know I love you, right? Like a sister.”
“Yes, of course.” Myka reached out and grabbed Lourdes’ hand over the table. “Me too. You and your family are like my family.”
“Then let me say this.” Lourdes took a deep breath. “I want you to be careful, Myka. You have a tendency to go full-bore ahead when you get into something new, and then you don’t stop, even when you maybe should. Like this job. I have to give you mad props for getting it in the first place—I mean, Kylee is world-famous. But you’re overworked, you’re overstressed, you’re living at that crappy hotel at her beck and call. She’s insane and she’s making you put on a lion suit and jump through flaming hoops, and she doesn’t care if you get burned. How can you not see this?”
Myka and the Millionaire Page 8