Don’t know how to wait

The dark-haired one is crossing the room, his boxers still tented, his eyes locked on the two of us. He doesn't ask. He just stops beside the couch, close enough that I can feel the heat of him against my shoulder. I glance at him mid-roll, my hair sticking to my sweaty forehead, and I smile.

"You boys don't know how to wait, do you?" I murmur, not slowing my pace. The muscular guy's grip tightens, a low growl rumbling in his chest. "He's still inside me. You want to join, you're going to have to figure out where you fit."

I reach out with one hand, fingers wrapping around the dark-haired one's wrist, pulling him closer. I guide his hand to my breast, pressing his palm against the sweat-slick skin, letting him feel the rapid beat of my heart under his fingers.

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