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Thane clambered to his feet and gently pulled her upright, dancing her around until the table was behind her. He crouched, nudging the anal plug where he thought it was needed. “Your legs are just fine, sugar. I want you to lower yourself down, slowly. No lifting up, Connie. You can stop, but you can't raise yourself up. Go as slowly as you like.”
She glanced down between her legs and bit her lip. “Can we not just skip this step?”
“No. If we skip one step, you'll want to skip the next.”
“You have no idea how much I hate you right now.” But her hands gripped his shoulders like a lifeline, using him as an anchor. The muscles in her thighs quivered, strained as she squatted over the plug. “Don't let me fall.”
“Never, sugar.” Thane didn't move, in spite of his leg complaining bitterly. Crouching was not a good long-term position for him to stay in, but this was a monumental moment for Connie, and for him. Another step forward, another layer of trust. “Close your eyes and listen to my voice. Just do as I say, and everything will be fine.”
He rested one hand on her left thigh, and used his other to hold the anal plug firmly on the coffee table. He was aiming for a smooth, relatively painless insertion. If she cast aside her tendency to be in charge, he would guide her to a happy place. Personally, he liked that particular happy place, but it had been too long since he'd visited.
“Down you go, sugar. Nice and easy, that's a good girl.” He rubbed her thigh as her asshole made contact with the cold metal, grounded her when she jumped and tried to rise. “No, Connie. Remember the rules of the game. Lower yourself a little more,” he urged her softly, wincing when she whimpered fearfully. The rounded tip of the plug pierced her anus, spread around the steel. “Oh, yeah. That's really fucking hot. Keep going.”
“I don't want to do this, Thane.”
“Yeah, you do. This pretty cunt is calling you a liar. Dripping all over my hand,” he murmured darkly, watching her take another fraction of steel inside her. “Your body likes taking things up that hole, sugar. It's your busy, scared brain that doesn't. So switch it off and push down. My cock is the next step, the next thing stretching you open, so be a good girl and sit on the table. We're not stopping until your cheeks are touching wood.”
Releasing the plug, Thane dragged his fingers along her slit, then studied them. A thick trail of clear fluid gleamed, telling him she was more aroused than she'd ever admit. If she did this for him, took the toy all the way in, he'd reward her. Setting his thumb on her clit, he teased her quietly without another word.
She was making enough noise for the both of them. Her hips danced, seeking more of his touch, and she sank further onto the steel invader with a squeak. A quick glance showed him she had her eyes still closed tight, her mouth open in the most adorable O. Stress lined her mouth, her forehead, and she was pale.
Thane eased a finger into her pussy, feeling the metal bulging against the thin layer of skin separating vagina from rectum. Only a couple of inches to go, the widest part to take, and she could have an orgasm. He stroked her pussy, delving deeper, rubbing the front wall of her pussy until he found her G-spot. Her pelvis kicked, her strong inner muscles clamping down on his finger.
Connie choked on a wail, her butt slapping down onto the table. Her eyes popped open, popped wide, staring at him with a mixture of shock and accusation. Her pussy spasmed, soaking his hand with more of her juices, then her head fell back on a moan. “Holy fuck.”
“Feels good, doesn't it, sugar? That's it, come all over my fingers, that's my good girl.” He shoved another finger inside her as he set his other hand between her breasts and sent her sprawling backward over the table. Fuck, that tiny asshole looked amazing with the glint of steel. The temptation to hammer into her pussy and feel just how tight the plug made her was strong. “No screaming, Connie. Bet that receptionist has her ear pressed to the door, wondering if the respectable Doctor Monroe is getting her prim and proper self fucked hard in here.”
“Jesus, Thane.” She moaned and came simultaneously, milking his fingers in thick, rhythmic pulses.
When she finally stilled, inside and out, Thane pulled his fingers free and stuck them in his mouth. His groan was deep, a vocal testament to just how much he craved the taste of her. He stroked her stomach, dropping from the uncomfortable crouch to his knees, and waited for her breathing to calm. He ran a finger around the base of the anal plug, making sure it was all the way in, and saw her stiffen. “Relax, Connie. No more for the moment.”
She went limp again, lifting shaking hands to rub over her face. “You're taking it out now?”
“Didn't say that, did I?” He chuckled and helped her sit up, noting how her eyes almost rolled up when the plug pressed into her with the movement. “You're going to get dressed, and then we're going to walk across the road to my car, and we're going for a drive. A long drive, somewhere scenic, I think. Maybe pick up a burger if you're hungry?”
Connie blinked those big gray eyes at him. “But you're taking it out, right? Before we do all that?”
Shaking his head, he threaded his fingers through her hair and dragged her face down to his. He kissed her, dragging it out until her eyelids fluttered half-shut. She was beautiful post-orgasm. Release brought color to her skin, a softness to the strain in her features. When he imagined their relationship as a long-term venture, he realized he would be a lucky fucker to have his heart held in her hands.
“It's staying in, Connie. When I take it out, I'm going to replace it with something you'll love just as much. How are you feeling?”
“Better than I thought,” she admitted, sliding her arms around his neck and resting her head on one. “Really full and kind of heavy. I don't like the way it burns. Not sure how you expect me to walk anywhere,” she added, shifting restlessly.
“The same way you always do, sugar, with a sway to your hips and that touch of sass that makes me want to bite you in several interesting places.” Thane got to his feet and stretched out his leg with a grimace. Crouching had been a really bad idea. Leaving her sitting on the coffee table—which he might have to steal from her office and have bronzed so he could put it in his own—he gathered her discarded clothing and brought it back to her. “Are you proud of yourself, Connie?”
“I…what? Proud? No.” She looked completely baffled by his question.
Dangling her panties off his finger, he smiled and said, “You should be, sugar. God knows I am. This is how you conquer a fear. There was no panic attack, no begging, no hysterics. You trusted me to take control, you followed my commands, and you're not sitting here feeling sorry for yourself.” He draped the scrap of material over her thigh. “Think that over for a while, Connie. I’m proud enough for the both of us.”
Connie slipped her panties over her feet, up her shapely legs and onto her thighs before standing shakily. Her knees wobbled before she firmed her stance. Her lips pursed on a low ooohof sound as the steel weight inside her settled heavily in her ass. “Maybe just a bit sorry for myself. I don't know whether to cry or hump the furniture.” She tugged the panties into position, then accepted her pants when he handed them to her. “I could do both, I guess.”
Thane dumped the rest of her clothes on the table, then stepped in close, crowding her. “Cry if you want to. Shout and scream. This is a brave thing you've done—I'd be shocked if you weren't shaken up by it.” He gripped her chin and narrowed his eyes at her in warning. “If you're going to hump anything, it won't be the furniture.”
“Yes, Sir,” she murmured. “We wouldn't want to waste that erection, would we?”
Fuck, he adored her. He hoped this was who she was a submissive—feisty, a touch of sass, plenty of willingness to please, and a sense of mischief. Compared to the hardass she was rumored to be as a Domme, it would be a daily challenge to juggle both sides of her. “Get dressed, minx, before I do something I regret.”
She wrestled herself into her pants. “You don't strike me as a man who regrets things, Thane. You think them through far too much to make a mistake.”
