Page 74 of The Long Game
“Yeah,” Shane said breathlessly. “I Googled it.”
Ilya grinned, imagining it. He was going to tease him some more about it, but Shane cut him off by dropping to his knees.
“Been thinking about this all night,” Shane said, gazing up at him with dark, lust-drunk eyes. Then he flipped the front of Ilya’s skirt up and hauled Ilya’s underwear down. Ilya hadn’teven finished stepping out of them before Shane wrapped his lips around his hard cock.
“Shane,” Ilya breathed. Shane didn’t need any costume pieces to look like a fantasy. He was absolutely beautiful, on his knees for Ilya. He was always so beautiful.
Ilya’s eyes prickled with tears as he watched him, which was weird and alarming. He closed his eyes, hoping Shane hadn’t noticed. Ilya had felt oddly fragile all night, and the wonderful surprise of having Shane here combined with the fervent way his dick was being worshipped was too much.
Enough. Time to take control of himself and this situation. He took a step back, enjoying the way Shane fell forward a bit, chasing his dick, and said, “Did you come here for this, or did you come here to get fucked?”
Shane blinked up at him. “Shit,” he said quietly.
Ilya smiled. “Stand up. Turn around.”
Shane obediently got himself in position, gripping the arm of the sofa, and Ilya grabbed a packet of lube from a discreet little box on the mantel behind him. He’d learned to keep lube in most rooms of the house.
He slicked himself up, then played with the toy in Shane’s ass a bit more, pressing on it, and turning it slowly. Shane moaned and wriggled his hips, then gasped when the toy bumped up against his prostate.
“How did you drive all this way,” Ilya asked, “without coming?”
“It was close,” Shane gritted out. “I had to pull over once and—fuck—readjust.”
Ilya chuckled, and twisted the toy again. “So dangerous. Driving in that condition. Irresponsible.”
“Fucking hurry up,” Shane complained.
Ilya complied by sliding the toy out of him in one steady pull while Shane gasped and arched his back. Ilya tossed the toy on the floor and lined himself up. “Is this what you came here for?”
“Yes.Comeon.”
Ilya pushed into him, gripping Shane’s hips tightly to hold him steady. Shane’s body welcomed him, already loose and open. It felt like heaven.
Shane cried out, and Ilya started a steady rhythm, thrusting into Shane so hard the couch slid a few inches across the floor. The room that had so recently been full of people and music and drunken laughter was now filled only with the slap of Ilya pounding into Shane, his own rough breathing, and Shane’s moans of pleasure.
“Fucking love you so much,” Shane panted. “Needed this.”
Ilya grunted, and planted a hand between Shane’s shoulder blades, pushing him down until his arms buckled and his chest rested on the arm of the couch.
“Holy—” Shane gasped. “That’s perfect. Oh my god. Don’t stop.”
Ilya didn’t want to stop, but he could feel his orgasm building already. He reached for Shane’s cock, wrapping his hand around it, and started stroking.
“Wait,” Shane gritted out. “Wanna see you.”
Ilya didn’t argue. He pulled out and flipped Shane over, then tilted him back until he fell onto the couch cushions with his ass resting on the arm. Ilya grabbed his thighs, pulled him up and toward him, and sank back into him.
“Harder,” Shane demanded. “Want to feel this for days.”
Ilya grunted, and began snapping his hips so vigorously that he was almost worried he was hurting Shane. Except Shane was smiling like he’d never felt anything so wonderful.
“Ilya,” he panted. “So perfect. Love this.”
“Make yourself come,” Ilya ordered, somewhat frantically.“Now.”
Shane stoked himself furiously, his gaze fixed on Ilya’s face. His eyes were huge and shiny and Ilya wanted to dive into them. He wanted to stay buried in Shane forever, making him come again and again and again.
“I’m coming. Holy fuck. Ilya, I’m—” Shane’s words dissolved into a groan as he spurted all over his own stomach.
