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Yeah, she supposed she could take a nap, just like this.
***
Chapter Eight
Thane followed Connie from the private room an hour later, feeling just a tad smug about his night's work. They'd had a good, intense scene. She was learning to trust him, and he intended to build on that in the future. He wanted to take the desensitization toward blindfolds further now he knew how she reacted, and anal play wasn't completely off the table. That, he would definitely pursue, even if it was only once. If he could show her the benefits, the pleasure she could gain, he hoped she wouldn't fear it so much.
The woman had one hell of a mouth on her. Couldn't fault that, or the sneaky finger she'd eased up his ass.
His lips twitched into a satisfied smile as they passed a gay couple making their way into the next barn, then spread into a grin as he met the eyes of an unfamiliar Domme leading her own sub past. He hooked a finger into Connie's waistband—grateful someone had had the foresight to gather her clothes and leave them outside the door—and tagged along behind, admiring her tangle of hair. The lights gleamed through all the colors, highlighting its beauty, and the absolute travesty he'd made of it.
Did it bother him that everyone glanced to see who the Mistress was with? That was a simple answer: no, not in the slightest. There was truth in it, after all. He was eager to swap places with her and see what she was truly capable of when the Domme was let loose.
She stopped on the threshold between the walkway and the social area, her shoulders straightening, spine turning to a steel rod, and her armor clicking back into place, piece by piece. He imagined she looked delectably just-fucked, but everyone not in the loop would assume she'd been her usual authoritativeself and bossed the hell out of him.
He leaned forward, close enough for his lips to brush the shell of her ear. “Would you like a drink, Mistress?”
The fact she shivered made him hard. Damn, that was getting to be a bad habit around her. At forty-six, he shouldn't be ready to mount a female for a third time so soon, but something about Connie made his dick enthusiastic about throwing itself into the fray.
“White wine, please.” She turned her head enough he could see one gray eye. “Liam knows which label I prefer.”
Eyes and ears all around. Thane grinned and nipped her lobe. “I'll see to that right away, Mistress.” In an undertone for her ears only, he added, “I'll meet you in the pit. One drink only tonight, sugar, after your escapades last night.”
He saw the twitch in her cheek as her lip curled into a snarl. “Just you wait, Thane.”
“Mistress, I'm so excited, I can hardly contain myself.” Straightening, he nudged her toward the pit, pleased to note Atticus and Jasper were there. Braun wasn't, but Thane assumed he'd returned home to be with the pregnant Bodie, and Loki was likely off playing with some besotted sub. Jasper, however, had his pretty blonde woman kneeling at his feet.
When Connie strode off toward them, Thane watched her. Hmm, she was walking with the slightest limp, he thought, and he felt a flush of concern as he worried over whether he'd bruised her. Easily done with his girth. Perhaps he shouldn't have rutted into her so hard at the end. Damn it, he'd have to pin her down and check her over once he got her home.
That was an argument brewing, he mused as he strolled over to the bar and waited patiently for Liam to come down the line. He wasn't happy leaving her alone for the night after what he'd put her through, and subdrop could happen hours after the event. Presuming either Braun or Atticus would hold guardianship over the young girl, Alicia, for the night, there was nothing left for Connie to go home for.
“Thane.” Pale gray eyes pinned him across the bar, then searched the area for Connie. Relief washed over Liam's face as he found her. “I take it all went well?”
Thane shrugged his shoulder, aware there was more than just Liam's attention on him. “I think we had a good scene. An improvement on the first, but there's more trust there now.” Thinking of the clever finger manipulating his prostrate, he grinned. “She's certainly well-educated on how to please a man. It's been a long time since I found a Mistress with innovative fingers.”
Liam's eyebrows shot up. “I see. Well, what can I get you?”
“Two waters and a glass of white wine. Mistress Connie said you know her preference.”
“I thought I did,” Liam muttered, moving down the bar and ducking beneath the wooden top for a moment. When he re-emerged, he plunked two cold bottles down and grabbed a glass from a line hanging across the back wall. He selected a bottle, poured a quarter of a glass, then frowned. “Should she—”
“It's fine, I'm driving her home. I think she only wanted a half glass after the migraine attack earlier.” Hell, was she safe to be drinking after he'd shot that stuff up her nose? Fuck, he hadn't read the instructions. “On second thoughts, that'll do fine. That medication is strong shit.”
Their eyes met in agreement, then Liam shoved the glass down toward him, followed by the bottles. “I'll stick it on your tab. If she has any complaints, don't take the heat for it. She can see me or Atticus if she gets her panties in a twist.”
“I'll tell her that. Thank you, Master Liam.” With a nod, Thane hooked the three drinks into a triangle in his hands and made his way to the seating pit. He nearly laughed when he saw Connie tucked against the padded backing, her eyes on Jasper, but the expression in them distant. She would be asleep before he got her home, by his calculation.
He took the steps down into the pit and offered her the water first, giving her a subtle glare when she opened her mouth to protest. Sulking, yet acting as regally as a queen, she snatched the bottle and wrenched the cap off, drinking quickly and quietly. She drank the whole bottle while he stood and waited, then he exchanged the empty container for the glass.
Her eyes turned to wildfire smoke. “Seriously?”
Setting the two bottles on the floor, Thane winced as he folded himself onto his knees beside her, leaning his arm against her leg. Contentment shimmered over him as he allowed the submissive out for a leg stretch. “Master Liam said if you had an issue with it, speak to him or Master Atticus. We weren't sure you should be drinking at all after your migraine,” he tossed in quietly, opening his bottle and sipping.
“She shouldn't,” the Master in question replied with a fierce scowl of displeasure. “And she knows it.”
Connie flipped up her middle finger. “Sit and swivel, Atticus. I understand my limitations better than you, even if I choose to break them every now and then.” She lifted the glass and sipped defiantly, but Thane caught an edge of uncertainty. She'd lost her solid footing in dominance, and was trying to regain her balance. “I have work in the morning. I'll be fine.”
“I'm taking her home, Atticus. I'll make sure she's okay.” Thane drank deeply this time as he listened to Connie splutter in her wine. “No arguments, Mistress. We came in my truck, we'll leave in it. We can stop by your place, or stay there if you need clothes for tomorrow, but you'll have company tonight. Just in case.”
