The text said she had to see him. Now. He drove the coast route, tyres squealing, taking the curves way too fast.
That’s what she’d told him the first time.
“Slow down, kid. My curves are the scenic route kind.”
She’d slashed with her whip, millimetres from his cock. Bowing his head, he’d kissed her boots, begging for forgiveness. Jade.
From then on, he was hers.
What will be her pleasure tonight, he wondered. Last time it was candlewax. Dripped hot on his nipples. Take-away noodles forgotten beside him, he strokes his keyring, a miniature jade riding crop.
“To remind you to jump, like an obedient stallion, when I want you,” she’d teased, dangling it cool against his testicles.
Her tiger-clawed fingernails had inscribed welts in his back, her sex flowing like the Mississippi by the time she’d finished taunting him, and allowed him to fuck her. Jade …
Finally at her doorstep. Mouth dry with anticipation, his tongue felt wound in wool as he announced his arrival over the intercom.
“Your stallion is here, Mistress,” he rasped.