Her fingers—elegant, manicured, always so perfectly controlled—curled into the front of his jeans with sudden, feral strength.
Fabric tore with a sharp, expensive rip as the fly gave way under her grip, buttons popping off like gunfire to ping against the dashboard and scatter across the leather seats.
She didn't pause.
Her nails raked down, shredding the thick denim open wider until his boxers were exposed—already soaked dark from her earlier squirts and his leaking pre-cum, the fabric clinging transparently to the massive outline beneath.
"Stop wearing these when you're coming to fuck me, My Young Dragon," she hissed against his mouth, voice wrecked and reverent at once. "I hate barriers between us… nothing should ever keep your Goddess from your little dragon."
One vicious yank and the boxers followed—cotton splitting down the front seam with a soft, obscene tear that echoed in the fogged confines of the car.
