Asking For It

“Trina.”

She stopped fluttering around the room, almond-shaped brown eyes regarding him in wide-eyed wonder. He didn’t blame her. Anyone who worked on his horse farm knew the quieter his voice got the more serious he was.

“Get on the horse.”

Right there in the middle of his overly large office was an adult-sized replica of one of the horses found outside grocery stores. He’d built it himself, with a few modifications. As much as he didn't like to admit it, he got the idea about a month after Trina started working for him, in charge of the books and the rather large personnel issues. The saddle had been modified so that there were ridges right where a woman’s pussy would go. There were three speeds—one, slow and easy to build passion and tease mercilessly; two, alternation between the slow, easy speed and a rougher, faster tempo; and three, rough and fast.

Trina had no idea what the large sandy horse really was—an oversized sex toy. She had no clue that he’d built it for her. Hell, he’d just admitted it to himself.

“Excuse me?” She looked at the horse, then back to him, her brow frowned up all cute and adorable like.

“Get your sexy ass up on that horse.” Micaiah rose slowly from his seat, not giving a damn that, for the first time since knowing her, his painful erection was clearly present, and painfully obvious pressed against his jeans.

Deliberately he held her gaze as he unbuttoned the top of his jeans, unzipping just a little to give his dick a modicum of relief. He watched as her chest heaved, suspicious little pebbles appearing right where her nipples should be. She stood statue still as he walked over to tower over her. Short little thing that she was, he had a good foot and a half over her. He allowed his body to brush hers, destroying any personal space barriers she might have.

“Get up on the sandy horse. I won’t tell you again.”