Page 41 of The Long Game
For the next couple of minutes, both men were silent besides their quiet moans and heavy breathing. Jerking off together like this always felt like a competition, even when it wasn’t. This time, Ilya had explicitly stated that he wanted them to come together, but even that sounded like a challenge to Shane. Fortunately, challenges were a huge turn-on for him.
“You close?” Shane asked shakily.
Ilya smiled. “That was fast, Hollander.”
“I didn’t sayIwas close.”
“But you are.”
“You don’t—ah, fuck—know anything.”
“How long has it been since you came?”
Shane shuddered. “I don’t remember.”
Ilya’s head rolled against the pillow. “I am going to come so fucking hard.”
Shane exhaled, relieved that they were done pretending. “Fuck, me too.”
“I can’t wait to fuck you again.”
“Me too. Shit, me too. Ilya, are you—”
“Yes. Come on.”
Shane’s orgasm hit him so hard that he let out a weird whimpering noise as the first burst of come landed on his stomach. It was a struggle to keep his eyes open through the intense jolts of pleasure, but it was worth the effort to watch Ilya coming spectacularly all over himself.
“Holy shit,” Shane said, when he was able to talk again.
Ilya had his eyes closed and was breathing hard through his nose. He was still holding his dick.
“You okay?” Shane asked.
“I think there is more.” Ilya started stroking himself again, hard and fast. Shane watched in amazement when, a few seconds later, Ilya’s whole body tensed and arched as a small spurt of come joined the mess on his belly.
“That’s new,” Shane said.
Ilya’s chest was still heaving. “Like you said. I have tricks.”
They both laughed.
“That was hot,” Shane said.
“Yes. Very.”
“I really need to take a shower. Again.”
“Mm.”
“I love you.”
Ilya’s expression turned serious, and for a moment Shane’s stomach clenched as if he expected Ilya to tell him something awful.
But all Ilya said was, “I love you so much, Shane.”
Shane knew it, but hearing Ilya say it in such a raw, unguarded way cut through him like a blade. The pain of not being in the same room as Ilya felt physical.
“Ten days,” he said. God,ten. How was he supposed to endure ten more days without Ilya? And then only have him for one, maybe one and a half, before they’d be apart again.
