“Stop it,” Shane said. “Seriously. We’ll be home soon.”
“Mm. Not the way you drive.”
Shane’s jaw tightened. “I’m not turning this into a game.” He did his best to ignore how hot the idea of trying to get home before Ilya came was. “I’ll get us home safe and then you can touch all the dicks you want.”
Ilya laughed and held up both of his hands so Shane could see he’d obeyed him. “Fine.”
Shane blew out a breath. “Almost home,” he said, mostly to himself.
“How many dicks will be there? Did you invite some people?”
“You wish.”
“I think you would like it,” Ilya said. “Having an audience.”
Shane wriggled against the leather seat. He really wouldn’t like to be watched, but as a purely imaginary scenario, it fucking did something to him.
“Would you show me off?” Shane asked quietly.
He could feel the heat of Ilya’s gaze even without looking. “I would never stop showing you off,” Ilya said. “If I could.”
“Fucking hell,” Shane muttered.
They made it home, and even got through the door before they crashed into each other, kissing and grabbing, trying to get closer while they struggled to get each other’s clothes off. Ilya won that race, getting Shane naked and pressed against a wall with his hands pinned over his head. Ilya kissed him forcefully while Shane arched toward him, aching for more.
“Want,” Shane murmured mindlessly as Ilya kissed his neck.
“You will get it,” Ilya said in a delicious, low rumble. He was still wearing his shorts, though they were unzipped and barely clinging to his hips. “Was fucking dying in that club.”
“Me too.”
“All fucking week I have been dying.”
Shane’s body rippled against Ilya’s. “Show me.”
Ilya nipped at Shane’s jaw. “Tell me what to do.”
It was a power move for Ilya because he knew how awkward Shane got when he had to ask for things in bed. He was absolutely aware of the battle raging in Shane’s head right now, as Shane tried to ignore his embarrassment in favor of bossing Ilya around.
“Suck me,” Shane tried.
“Like this?” Ilya sucked at the pulse point under Shane’s jaw, making Shane squirm.
“Don’t,” Shane panted, “be an ass.”
Ilya laughed, released Shane’s wrists, then took a step back. He quickly removed his own shorts and underwear, then went to his knees. He ran his hands over Shane’s waist, hips and thighs as he gazed up at him in a blatantly admiring way that made Shane preen.
“So beautiful,” Ilya said. He leaned in and kissed the tip of Shane’s cock before parting his lips to suck the head in.
Shane let out a long, low moan, his head bumping back against the wall behind him. “Fuck, Ilya.”
Ilya took his time, tracing and teasing him with his tongue, lighting Shane up. Shane dropped a hand to the back of Ilya’s head and threaded his fingers into his slightly damp curls.
“You’re so fucking good at that,” Shane said breathlessly. He rolled his hips, just slightly, hoping Ilya would take the hint.
Ilya grunted and slid his hands up the backs of Shane’s thighs, up to his ass, where he dug his fingers into the muscles there, pulling Shane closer, deeper. His throat muscles flexed around the head of Shane’s cock, and Shane’s fingers tightened in Ilya’s hair, pulling slightly.
“Holy shit,” Shane gasped. He squeezed his eyes shut and forced himself to breathe as Ilya swallowed around him.
Ilya stayed like that for another couple of seconds, then pulled back slowly, dragging his tongue along Shane’s length, until he reached the end and let Shane fall out of his mouth.
“I could make you come right now,” Ilya said.
“Don’t,” Shane said, almost meaning it.
“Bedroom?”
God, that seemed far away. Shane glanced at the stairs mournfully, but then nodded. “Yeah. Hurry.”
They scrambled up the stairs, naked and laughing and holding hands. They probably looked ridiculous, but Shane didn’t care. He shoved Ilya against the wall at the top of the stairs and kissed him.
“Fucking love you,” Shane murmured against his lips. “Want you in me.”
Ilya growled and slapped Shane’s ass hard, once, the sharp sound reverberating in the empty hallway. “Come to bed, then.”
Shane backed Ilya into the bedroom, kissing him and practically trying to climb him. Ilya sat on the end of the bed when he reached it, pulling Shane into his lap and kissing him fiercely until they both fell to the mattress in a squirming tangle of limbs.
Ilya laughed into Shane’s mouth and kept kissing him. Shane wondered if Ilya was as dizzy with happiness as he was. Sometimes he still couldn’t believe they were actually together. That Shane could have this.
Shane crawled on top of him. He spread his thighs wide, straddling Ilya’s hips, still kissing. Ilya’s strong hands glided up Shane’s back to his shoulders, then back down to his ass.
Lube. They needed lube immediately.
Shane stretched across the bed and opened his nightstand drawer. He felt around for one of the bottles of lube they stored in there among their growing collection of sex toys and pulled it out.
Ilya took the bottle and got to work. Shane groaned with relief at the first brush of Ilya’s slick finger against his opening.
“Hurry,” Shane said.
“So impatient.”
“Yeah, I’m fucking impatient. It’s been a week.” He knew, once the summer was over, he’d have to go far longer without sex. But those weeks wouldn’t be full of being close enough to Ilya to smell him. Wouldn’t be full of hearing Ilya’s unguarded laughter when he was playing with kids, or of seeing the way Ilya’s eyes smoldered sometimes when he looked at Shane. When Ilya thought no one would notice. When he couldn’t help it.
Those weeks he wouldn’t be sharing a bed with Ilya, listening to him breathe in the dark, and sometimes hearing him whimper. He wouldn’t be able to press himself against Ilya and kiss the back of his neck and whisper that he loved him. When he thought Ilya wouldn’t notice. When he couldn’t help it.
Those would be different weeks. Right now, Shane needed everything he could get from Ilya.
Ilya took his time, opening him with careful fingers as he watched Shane’s face. He reached his free hand up and caressed Shane’s cheek.
“My beloved,” Ilya murmured, in Russian. “So beautiful.”
Shane let his eyes close for a moment, letting Ilya know he understood. Ilya couldn’t hide behind his native tongue anymore when he wanted to be sweet and soft. It was something Shane had worked for; while Shane’s teammates were playing poker or games on their phones on the plane, Shane was studying Russian.
“Enough,” Shane said, also in Russian. “I’m ready.”
Ilya hummed and continued his slow penetration with two fingers. “I like this,” Ilya said, switching back to English. “Let me watch you a bit longer.”
Shane huffed and clenched around Ilya’s fingers. It wasn’t enough. In frustration, he wrapped his hand around his own rigid cock and stroked.