Free Trading Tides by Laila Blake

dangerously.
    I gasped when he reached around, popped open the button of my trousers again like he had in the bathroom of the restaurant, and then gently lowered them to my knees. He pushed my legs apart as far as they would go. I shivered at the cold wind around my thighs and bit my lip when he dragged my panties to the side. I heard him sigh, and then his fingers were inside me, hard and fast and I couldn't stop myself from moaning his name.
    "There she is. Always wet for me. So much wetter than half an hour ago," he whispered. His nose brushed over the shell of my ear and his breath stirred the peach fluff inside. I trembled and closed my eyes.
    "Yes, Sir."
    "I can't wait to fuck again." He was smirking, I could tell, teasing, raising the anticipation even higher as he pumped his fingers in and out of me, rubbing against my g-spot with each turn. I let my head hang, gasped and whimpered and pressed my eyes closed as though nobody could possibly see me if I couldn't see them.
    "For now, though..." his hand left my hip, the other my cunt and then I felt him pry my ass cheeks apart so that he could drag my juices all over my crack. I held my breath. "For now, I want to test how well you followed orders."
    The tip of his finger started to press against the tight ring of muscles. I knew what to do now, knew how to relax but that wasn't easy, standing in public, out in the cold, fingers balled to fists in the sheep skin on his passenger's seat. He rubbed, pressed again and then it gave, just like that. It was nothing like my finger. How I could ever have convinced myself that it was even comparable, was beyond me now. With his inside me, I felt helpless and small, I felt owned and perfect, and the calloused, lined texture rubbed against the sensitive nerve endings in its own special way that my fingers couldn't hope to imitate.
    "There you go. There's a good girl. Here, this will make it easier for you later..." I heard the chain clink, something rustle in his pocket and a second later he pressed something else against my sphincter. This time, it was smooth and soft and it slid inside easily at first. Then it grew bigger, stretched me more and more. I grunted when it passed its biggest point and the flanged bottom came to rest against my ass. I felt full, marked, his .
    "It's only a small one." He patted my ass, and then pulled my trousers back up. I managed not to protest, but it was a close thing. My clit felt on fire, my heart was racing.
    "You can sit down now, baby girl."
    "Yes, Sir."
    He offered me his hand and I took it as I climbed into his truck. I'm not sure my jelly legs would have made it on their own, and he stood there, watching me until I gingerly lowered my bottom onto the seat. Even with the soft pelt, it pushed the plug further inside and I groaned again, just as our eyes met.
    "Your ass is mine, this time," he said, spreading his fingers over my thigh. "I'll fuck it before the night is through."

VIII

    I exhaled a shaky sigh and clawed my fingers into the edge of the table. I couldn't even recall who was talking or what question had been posed. The twisted, dark ache in my ass came and went in waves, and it left me sweaty and needy every time. I hated the conference room then, hated its white, undecorated walls, hated the window front that showed nothing but other ugly office buildings in the grey winter light. It had started to rain again, a soft spray that could just as well have been snow.
    I'd been sitting with my team for about two hours and dusk was beginning to settle already—not too visibly, but the light grew dimmer all the time. I thought about getting up to switch on the overhead lighting, but decided not to, afraid I might moan or walk funny. Rubbing my face, I stared at the flip chart we'd set up. I put the intern in charge of standing there to write things down. He, too, looked bored. I didn't blame him.
    "Are you okay, Iris?" Dan asked looking at me rubbing my face, and I looked up.
    "You're