The night was humid, the air thick with tension as Mingyu stood in front of the mirror, a wicked smile curling on his lips. He had dressed carefully tonight-small, tight, and revealing. The soft satin fabric clung to every inch of his body, leaving little to the imagination. The outfit was intentionally feminine-thin straps, a neckline that dipped low enough to tease, and a skirt that barely covered anything at all.
Mingyu knew exactly what he was doing. He knew how Seungcheol liked him like this, dressed up as if he were a delicate little thing, something to be taken care of, something to be owned. The older man had a possessive streak that ran deep, and nothing brought it out like seeing Mingyu dressed in something so fragile and feminine.
Mingyu took one last look at himself, running his hands down his sides, feeling the fabric stretch over his hips. His heart raced in anticipation.
Seungcheol sat sprawled on the leather couch, legs spread wide, a glass of whiskey resting lazily in his hand. The dim lighting of the room accentuated his powerful frame, casting long shadows across his sharp features. His dark eyes followed every movement of Mingyu as the younger man stood in front of him, deliberately taking his time as he adjusted the delicate straps of his skimpy, revealing outfit.
The fabric was soft satin, barely covering anything. The small, tight top clung to Mingyu's chest, the neckline plunging down, exposing the pale skin that Seungcheol had already marked so many times. The skirt? It was more like a suggestion of clothing, riding dangerously high up his thighs with every subtle shift of his hips. Mingyu knew what he was doing-he knew exactly what Seungcheol liked. He loved pushing Seungcheol to the edge, loved testing how far he could go before Seungcheol snapped.
Seungcheol's eyes darkened with hunger as he watched Mingyu's long fingers slide down the front of the satin top, adjusting the neckline teasingly low. There was something undeniably feminine about the way Mingyu carried himself tonight-delicate, sensual, and entirely intentional. It made Seungcheol's possessiveness roar to life, an almost primal need to claim what was his.
Mingyu locked eyes with Seungcheol, a small smirk curling at the corner of his lips. He didn't say a word as he slowly approached, his movements deliberate and slow, each step meant to torment the older man. Seungcheol's grip on his glass tightened, his muscles tensing with the growing anticipation.
"You like it, don't you?" Mingyu whispered, his voice soft, almost teasing, as he came to stand between Seungcheol's legs. He ran his hands down his sides, hips swaying slightly as if to give Seungcheol a better view. "You like me all dressed up like this for you."
Seungcheol's eyes were glued to the younger man's body, his pulse quickening as he leaned back, watching Mingyu with a hungry gaze. "You're a fucking tease," he muttered darkly, his voice low and rough. He took a slow sip of his whiskey, his eyes never leaving Mingyu's. "Look at you, wearing this slutty little outfit, knowing exactly what it does to me."
Mingyu's heart pounded in his chest as Seungcheol's words sent a thrill down his spine. He loved it when Seungcheol talked to him like this-dirty, rough, possessive. It made him feel small, delicate, and utterly controlled. He bit his lip as he climbed onto Seungcheol's lap, straddling the older man with slow, deliberate movements, feeling the hard muscles beneath him.
As soon as Mingyu settled on Seungcheol's lap, he began to move. Slowly, deliberately, he ground his hips against Seungcheol, feeling the heat of the older man's body through the thin fabric of his clothes. The friction sent sparks of pleasure through him, and he knew it was having the same effect on Seungcheol. The older man's hands immediately moved to his hips, gripping him tightly, fingers digging into the soft skin beneath the satin.
