He doesn't let up in the slightest, curling his fingers and thrusting them in roughly as Monty squirms and spasms around his hand, his thumb teasing deliberately at their clit to draw out their orgasm. He spares not even a glance or a thought to the mess Monty is making, even though the driver suppresses a sigh from the front seat. Most of it was on Monty's slacks anyway, soaking the fine material.

For a moment, he considers continuing, forcing Monty into a second or more prolonged orgasm, but he has to get on with the rest of his day.

"I need to get to my meeting," he says casually, roughly withdrawing his hand and holding it up to Monty's mouth for them to clean off, feeding them their own release. "I'll expect my order - done correctly this time - in my office before I'm done. Do you need more instructions than that, little one?"