Drag this out

I let him guide me by the hair, the grip firm but not painful, a possessive pull that sends a shiver down my spine. My knees find the cushion as I settle between his legs, his thighs bracketing my bare hips. The heat of him radiates against my back, his chest rising and falling against my shoulder blades with each breath.

I don't reach for him. I keep my hands on my own thighs, fingers tracing idle patterns on my skin, letting the anticipation build. His cock is still standing proud, brushing against the small of my back as I shift, and I can feel the wet tip leaving a slick trail on my skin.

"You know," I murmur, tilting my head back to look up at him, "I've been thinking about this all night. Every time I spun around that pole, I kept wondering which one of you would be the first to make me feel like the center of the world."

I reach up, my fingers finding his jaw, tracing the line of it before letting my thumb brush over his lower lip. I don't move to touch him below the belt. I just let the tease stretch, my eyes half-lidded, the fringe of my pasties long since peeled away catching the lamplight.

The dark-haired one lets out a low chuckle from the sectional, leaning forward. "You're really going to drag this out, huh?"

I look at him over my shoulder, a slow smile curling my lips. "I've been saving this moment. You don't rush something you've been waiting your whole life for."

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