Myka and the Millionaire

by Alexis Alvarez

  A muscle in his jaw clenched and his hands tightened on the wheel, and he growled at her, “I have no doubt.” After that they were silent, although the air in the car was charged with a tension so powerful that her whole body remained energized.

  * * *

  Gabriel’s home was grand, more of a mansion than a house, but Myka paid scant attention to the columns and expensive furniture, the woven rugs, and artwork on the walls. She registered the echo of her heels in the marble foyer, appreciated the glass display case with awards and patents as they passed through a sitting room, and felt her stomach lurch with anticipation as he dropped his keys and jacket onto a low counter in the kitchen and extracted a bottle from a small wine fridge.

  Gabriel handed her a heavy glass of aromatic amber and Myka couldn’t help but comment, “So tonight you want me tipsy? I thought you figured women and wine don’t mix.”

  Gabriel raised one eyebrow and lounged back against the counter in a deceptively idle pose, because his gaze, as it perused her body, was anything but casual.

  “You know why I put you in a cab that night,” he said in a low voice. “And tell you what.” His voice held a challenge. “If you needle me about it again, you’re going to pay the price.”

  Myka laughed, wanting to do just that. “Tell me, Gabriel, what is the price for a comment about enforceable sobriety? Are you going to give me your whole two cents’ worth?” She raised her glass.

  Gabriel raised his glass back. “Oh, you’re getting more than two cents, Myka. Don’t forget about inflation.”

  “Mmm,” Myka said, sipping her wine. “Now he’s a master economist,” she commented. “Lecturing the young student about finances. Maybe he forgot that supply and demand curves are pretty boring stuff.”

  Suddenly Gabriel’s glass was on the counter and his hands were on her body, pulling her to him. Myka squeaked in surprise and barely had time to shove her own glass down before he picked her up in his strong arms and set her down on the counter next to a bowl of green apples.

  He stood in front of her for a minute, then put one hand on each knee and looked her right in the eyes. “Spread your legs,” he murmured in a low voice.

  Myka’s mouth dropped open. “Ah—”

  “Myka?” His voice held a hint of threat. “When I tell you to do something, I expect it done immediately and without question. And the right response as you do it is ‘yes, sir.’”

  Myka bit her lip. “So we’re going right into this, then?”

  “You said yes to my way earlier. Spread your legs.”

  Myka’s heart beat double time, and she lost herself in his eyes. Finally she breathed, “Yes, sir,” and slid her knees apart, feeling the cool marble of the counter skim her thighs.

  “Good,” he said. “Wider.”

  Myka slid her legs wider, flushing as her skirt rode up, exposing her panties to his heated gaze. He kept his hands on her knees as she opened her legs, not pushing or assisting, merely holding on.

  “Is that as wide as you can go?” he asked her, and Myka struggled, found it was, and whispered, “Yes, sir.”

  “Good,” he repeated with satisfaction in his voice, unbuttoning her blouse and pulling the sides apart, exposing her lacy bra and her lean stomach.

  “Now it appears that I’m going to have to teach you a lesson about economics, doesn’t it? This is anything but boring, Myka. I am going to demand certain things, and you’re going to be the one supplying them. I’m going to have my hands on any and all curves that you possess, as often as I want. Are we clear? Answer me.”

  “Yes, sir!” said Myka, her breath choppy, because now Gabriel drifted his fingers up her bare thigh, toying with the fabric at the crotch of her panties, stroking over the silk.

  Gabriel leaned in until his lips brushed her neck, and spoke, “I like how you’re obeying me right now, Myka, and I expect that to continue.” He teased her through the panties, pushing, touching, letting his fingers glide back and forth. “You soaked these panties,” he told her, “and I’m glad, because that’s a requirement as well. I want you wet for me. I like to know your body wants this as badly as mine.”

  Myka whimpered and thrust her hips at his hand as much as she could with her legs so wide, and Gabriel chuckled. He reached up and pinched her nipple, hard, making her cry out. “No.” he told her. “Right now you’re going to have a little lesson in taking what I give you, and nothing more. Sit quietly while I touch you, and don’t move your hips. Lock your hands behind your head.”

  Myka moaned but nodded, then added, “Yes. Sir.” She lifted her hands and laced her fingers against her curls.

  He smiled and whispered, “So obedient. So submissive,” making her flush, because she’d never been submissive in her life, and although obeying his commands was hot, it also felt so wrong and debauched.

  “You’re going to learn control,” Gabriel told her, “but it will take time. And I will love disciplining you as I teach it to you.”

  Myka gasped; those words made her whole body quiver with arousal and she felt new wetness surge between her legs. Gabriel smiled at her response and whispered into her ear, “I thought you’d like that.” Myka couldn’t stop looking at his face, his lips, his jaw. She was dying for him to kiss her, touch her, discipline her.

  He stroked her and continued, no longer in a whisper, “Most people think that BDSM is about handcuffs and restraints. But the sexiest kind of restraint is the kind you exercise on yourself. When you stay in the position I ask, even when you’re not tied down, that’s true submission.”

  Gabriel kept one hand on her breast and continued his gentle assault between her legs. He stroked through the damp fabric over and over, then let his fingers stray beneath the scrap of silk, teasing her bare skin, tickling her, and finally thrust his long middle finger into her eager body, pumping it until she cried out and arched into him. He squeezed her nipple, making her yelp, and didn’t let go for a few long seconds. Myka gasped. “I won’t move again.”

  “See that you don’t,” he warned her in a low voice, “because for the next violation I’m taking you over my knee and turning your ass a pretty pink, understand me?”

  When Myka didn’t answer, he tipped her chin up. “Myka? Answer, please.”

  “Yes, I understand. Sir.” Myka thrummed with need. She dreaded the spanking and desired it, both at the same time.

  “Then let’s try this lesson again, shall we?” he said, but it wasn’t a question, and his hand was back under her panties, rubbing, thrusting, touching everywhere except her aching clit. Over and over he fingered her in almost the perfect spot, and her frustration began to burn white hot. She moaned, struggling to keep her legs spread wide without jerking, forcing her hips not to rock.

  “Please,” she called out. “Sir. I need you to touch me.”

  “I am touching you,” he teased.

  “I need more.”

  “Not yet,” he warned. Finally he let one fingertip touch the tip of her clit and she screamed in pleasure, “Oh, God, yes, please, there!”

  He laughed and moved back to stroking her labia and her inner thighs, sometimes ducking one finger into her wet folds, making her moan in frustration. “Gabriel!”

  “Oh, Myka,” he said in a soft voice. “Is it getting difficult to sit still for me? Are you having a hard time waiting?”

  “Yes, sir, I can’t stand it,” she wailed, clenching and unclenching her thighs. “I want to come.”

  “You’re learning to be patient,” he reminded her with a smile in his voice. “This is good practice for you.”

  “I don’t need practice,” she whined. “I need you to fuck me. Right now. Please. Sir.”

  “Who makes the rules here tonight?” he asked her, almost idly, letting one finger stray so close to her clit that she made a high keening noise, barely able to resist the urge to push herself at his hand.

  “You do. Sir.” She struggled to get the words out, her breath coming unevenly. It was nearly painful to ho
ld back.

  “And who follows the rules?” he continued, running one finger along her slick skin.

  “I will, I do. Sir.”

  “Good. So continue to behave for me. I’m going to keep touching you this way until I feel you’re ready for more. From now on, until I let you know, I don’t want to hear another word from you. Unless you need to say a safeword, you don’t say anything at all. Understand?”

  Myka nodded and closed her mouth, determined not to lose this round. She could do it; she could hold out a few more minutes.

  “You’re going to sit there without moving, without talking, and accept what I’m doing to you,” he said, reaching up to stroke her nipples and tweak them through her bra, one in each hand. “But you’re not going to come, and you’re not going to move, unless you want to be punished. You’re going to relax… and enjoy my touch.”

  Myka enjoyed it, but there was no relaxation involved, because her entire body burned with a need to orgasm, and every touch increased the fire. She tried to think about something boring to prevent herself from shattering around his fingertips.

  She made a quiet cry and then, without thinking, she grabbed his wrist with both of her hands and pulled him toward her body, tilting her hips so his fingers could push against her clit. “Please,” she cried out, “here,” and for a magical moment, he allowed the forced caress, let her use his fingers as a prop, kept his own hand still while she pushed at him with her hips, sighing with pleasure at the delicious contact.

  Then he shook his head and made a disappointed noise. “Oh, Myka, ma chèrie, you’re going to be sorry you did that,” he warned, moving his hand away from her wetness. He abruptly pulled her to the floor in front of him.

  “Oh!” she cried out in frustration, shoving at his chest. “You’re fucking torturing me, Gabriel.” His threat made her stomach and pelvis quiver with craving and fear.

  He grabbed her wrists. “You’re piling up the violations, aren’t you? You are going to need a lesson indeed in how I deal with defiant behavior, Myka.” He looked her up and down for second, then lowered her panties to mid-thigh and yanked at one side with both hands, forcing the material to tear apart.

  “Hey!” cried Myka, although it hadn’t hurt. She was more startled than anything.

  “Put your hands behind your back,” he commanded her, turning her around. “Now.”

  Myka slowly reached her hands back, a position that was strange and new; she couldn’t remember the last time, if ever, she’d had her arms arranged like this. She felt vulnerable and defenseless, but she trusted him to keep this going, hot and fun, to a place that was even better.

  “Wrists together,” he ordered, and used the torn scrap of panties to tie them. The knot was firm and the fabric wet. She flushed, knowing it was her own arousal wrapped around her skin.

  “Do you know why I had to tie you up?” he murmured into her ear, and then answered without waiting for a reply, “Because this is only the beginning of what I have planned, and it’s clear that you won’t be able to keep your hands out of the way. So little control.”

  Myka’s breath caught in her throat, and she didn’t know if she was or was not expected to answer him. He unzipped her skirt and let it drop to the floor, ordering, “Step out of it and leave the heels on.”

  He held Myka’s bound arms as she walked herself out of the black fabric, now naked from the waist down, face burning to be standing this way in front of him, tied up with her own wet panties, slick between the thighs with arousal for him.

  “Stand there while I look at you,” he told her, his voice thick, and took a step back to observe her silently. Myka watched him swallow hard, saw the bulge along his thigh, and smiled, knowing she’d done that. She was tied up, but she had just as much power, if she could bring him to this state.

  “You’re smiling,” he stated. “You like this.”

  It wasn’t a question, but Myka answered anyway. “Yes.” Her voice was low and fierce.

  “Well, then, let’s continue,” he suggested, and took hold of her wrists behind her. “Walk with me,” he ordered, “to my bedroom.”

  Chapter Six

  The bedroom was large, with a thick carpet, long plate-glass windows framed with heavy drapes, and a huge bed with wrought-iron head and foot boards. Myka gasped when she saw the leather restraints at the head and foot, and what he had lying across the white sheets.

  “Not feeling so bold anymore?” he teased, as she stared at the assortment of items. “Wondering what I have planned? Answer me.”

  “Are you going to use—all of those?”

  Laid out together were a leather paddle, a belt, a shiny silver butt plug, some delicate but wicked-looking nipple clamps, and a few other things that she assumed were vibrator-style toys that she didn’t recognize.

  “Yes, eventually, if you let me. Tonight, though? We’ll pick two. I’ll pick one, and I’ll let you pick the other. What’s your choice, Myka?”

  “I don’t know. I—”

  “Myka. Choose one. Now.” His voice was firm.

  “I can’t—”

  “If you don’t choose? I will. And it might not be your secret fantasy, yes?”

  “Fine. I’ll choose… the paddle.” Myka felt dizzy with excitement. She’d watched it twice, she’d fantasized about it a hundred times, and now she was going to feel it for herself. But oh God, what was he going to choose?

  “Good choice,” he said. “I already promised I’d make your ass pink. You remember that, don’t you?”

  “Yes, sir,” she whispered. “Which will you pick?”

  “I’ll surprise you,” he said in a smooth voice, collecting up the things and depositing them in a pile on a small table near the bed. “First, though,” and he paused to pull the panties from her wrists, “let’s start by having you undress fully.”

  Myka rubbed the red marks on her wrists as he settled himself in a low chair, legs spread, hands on his thighs.

  “Take off everything that’s left, Myka. Show me what’s mine tonight. Leave the shoes.”

  Myka slowly slid off her shirt, dropped it to the carpet. Gabriel held her eyes as she unsnapped her bra and slowly lowered it, and stood there before him, naked except for her shiny heels.

  “Nice,” he said, his voice husky. “Beautiful, Myka, you’re fucking gorgeous.” Then he nodded his head toward a chair across the room. “There’s a red tie. Go bring it to me.”

  Myka took a step and he shook his head. “Hands and knees.”

  “Gabriel, what—” Myka started, stopped as she saw the heat in his eyes.

  “I think you know what I mean,” he said. “Don’t you?”

  “You want me to crawl?” Myka stood still, her face burning. “Seriously?”

  “Do I look like I’m joking?” Gabriel’s voice was light, but his eyes were intense. “You do what I say tonight or you get punished. I promised to make your ass pink already. Are you hoping for a cherry red instead? It will be intense for your first time, but I’ll do it.” His smile was wicked, and to Myka, it was also an offer. Did she want the harder spanking? Or not?

  Myka sucked in her breath, looked at the far chair, then back to Gabriel. He tapped his hands on his thighs, then looked over to the table where he’d dropped the paddle. Still she couldn’t bring herself to move to the floor. In her fantasies, it was easy. Standing here, right now, it seemed too embarrassing. Her body would not comply.

  “I don’t know if I want to,” she explained. Her voice was defiant, but she didn’t say red. She was so wrapped up in the intensity of the dance between them that she would not stop. She needed—she wanted—she didn’t even know what she wanted. Her brain swirled with possibilities and scenarios, and she decided she wanted to push this. Fuck the shallow end. Tonight she wanted to swim with the sharks.

  “All right, Myka, you’ve earned the harder spanking with your delay. I suggest you go fetch that tie right now unless you want additional punishment.” His voice was hard.


  Myka gulped, feeling her body both rebel and rejoice at the threat, and lowered herself to her knees. She checked his face, saw that he was serious, got onto all fours. With her face surely bright red, she crawled as gracefully as she could over to the chair, a distance that seemed to stretch for a mile. She hesitated, then pulled the red tie off the seat and started to crawl back, tie in hand.

  “Hold it in your mouth,” ordered Gabriel calmly, and Myka folded the tie into thirds and obediently bit down as she crawled back over to him, face burning with embarrassment, but her body tingling with arousal.

  “Good girl,” he said with pleasure in his voice as she approached him, still holding the tie between her teeth. He took the tie from her and stroked her shoulder, then said, “Stand up and give me your hands.”

  Myka did it, face still hot, angry that he’d made her crawl, yet also exulting in the experience. She could feel the question in the air with each demand: Would she? Wouldn’t she? And she knew it aroused them both when the answer was yes.

  “Your ass,” Gabriel said, “is magnificent. Watching it bounce as you crawled for me, Myka, got me even harder. I like that you weren’t sure about crawling but you did it anyway. Because I told you to.” His voice was soft, his eyes hard, his arousal evident. While he spoke, he bound her wrists in front of her using the red tie.

  Hearing him talk about it this way made the crawling more acceptable. Although she felt angry and subservient, she also felt the control she herself had over his ardor. She liked this game, the way the power bounced back and forth between them, tightening the desire into a tangled web of passion. Some part of her also loved being mastered by him. It was crazy hot.

  “Try to get free,” he demanded, and Myka pulled, found she couldn’t.

  “Good,” he said, sitting down on the sofa. “Now I want you to lie down over my legs, Myka. Do you know what I’m going to do?”