Chapter Text
Ilya smiled as he set down two notepads and brand-new pens. Shane immediately raised an eyebrow. Ilya told him he had an idea for board game night, but had definitely told him to grab Battleship out of the closet. What do notepads do to raise the stakes of geometry?
“All in due time, Kótik,” Ilya smirked as he sat on the couch, setting a dark plastic bag on the living room table next to the Battleship case. Shane couldn’t see what was in it, but his skin tingled imagining the possibilities.
“So what’s the game?” Shane asked with an excited smile. He divided up the space markers and clipped the board upright as Ilya did with his.
Ilya handed him a notebook and a pen. “I want you to write 5 dirtiest things you would do to me in order, 5 being the filthiest.” Ilya licked his lips, and Shane compulsively copied him, Ilya’s smile softened as he leaned over, and kissed Shane, pressing his back into the plush couch cushion, Shane’s hands on his chest and hip, drawing him into his lap as Ilya’s tongue lit a blazing path from hitting every single nerve inside Shane’s mouth, to tasting and kissing his way down Shane’s neck. Shane felt dizzy, grinding up into Ilya’s lap as he straddled him and kissed him mercilessly. Shane needed to take off his sweater, or he was going to pass out.
Shane pushed Ilya down next to him, climbing on top, pinning Ilya to the couch with the notebook in one hand. “You haven’t told me what the list is for,” He smiled every bit the mischievous cat Ilya thought him to be as he yanked the sweater over his head, grinding curiously into Ilya’s lap.
“I was giving you inspiration for your list.” Ilya hummed simply as he stroked the muscles that lined Shane’s thighs, but held his hips in place, his sweatpants tight over his lap under Shane.
“I think I have some ideas,” Shane replied, his eyes fluttering closed at the gentle touch to his bare skin. Ilya had told him he liked seeing him in the short shorts from the Peloton ad, so of course Shane bought 8 pairs to wear around the house. It helped that they were comfortable and actually good for working out. Best decision ever, Ilya couldn’t keep his hands off of Shane’s thighs when he could see them, and now he saw them often.
Ilya’s nails dug into Shane’s skin, refocusing his attention.
“Write the list then, Solnyshko.” Ilya handed him the pen with a smirk and looked at him expectantly.
“You want me to write it from up here?” Shane felt the blush heat his cheeks, feeling too hot all over again. His brow screwed up as he thought about his answers. Ilya watched him as Shane bit his lip and wrote his first answer. Ilya was dying to know what it said, but his hands held firmly to Shane’s thighs as he waited patiently. Shane was clearly putting a lot of thought into his answers, which made Ilya’s heart speed up a little. Shane was always good at following instructions when given the right incentive. All it took was Ilya blurring his thoughts a little before giving one to him. Tonight’s game might test the limits of that rule if Ilya wins; either way, it will be another fun game night where they fuck the moment a winner is determined. Ilya fucking loves game night. Shane had his tongue set between his lips, and he was slowly licking his upturned top lip, writing his fourth answer. He looked over his pad down at Ilya with his eyebrow up again.
“Are you going to write yours? Or are we only doing what I like tonight?” Shane ground his hips into Ilya’s lap, driving a gasp from inside him. His grip tightened on Shane’s hips.
“Moya Lyubov,” He groaned, a little long suffering. “We must play game on game night!” He reached for his notebook and flipped the cover, showing his carefully written list and their values in the game. He flashed the words at Shane before flipping the notebook facedown on the table. “We will reveal our lists at same time.” It was his turn to tilt his brow at Shane, whose gaze went from Ilya to the facedown notepad to the black bag waiting mysteriously on the table. A blush crept from his freckles down his bare neck, his skin a collection of Ilya’s favorite colors, specific to these moments with Shane and never matched by anyone or anything Ilya has ever seen or imagined even exists. It’s a deep, soft gradient of rose reds, starting at the top almost a grey pink, brown color, (mauve??), blending with the freckles on his cheeks, working down his neck, painting it almost the soft, but solid pink of an unripened strawberry, and makes his skin a smattering of barely visible, ever softer pink down over his chest, where Ilya can’t help but touch and stroke when he sees it. Shane arched into the touch, groaning freely into the open air of their living room. There are still days when Shane tries to muffle his beautiful sounds when they fuck in dark hotel rooms on the road, but boardgame night in their brightly lit living room lets Ilya see Shane shameless, visible, and audible to no one but him.
He watched Shane’s eyes flicker back open as he turned the notebook and started writing his fifth option on the paper, flipping the list face down next to Ilya’s on the table. “I’m ready when you are, babe.” Shane kissed Ilya, and Ilya could feel the heat coloring his cheeks against his own, and it was hard for him to stay on task.
He grabbed his notepad and held it to his chest. “I will reveal mine in order, and you match yours of that level, yes?” Shane didn’t move to pick up his notepad, probably already had his list memorized.
We will start with biggest ship, since it is biggest target, easiest thing to do, “ He held up the tiny 5-hole Carrier ship, “If I win, my big ship will represent me bending you over bed and eating you like fresh lunch. I give you nothing but my tongue until I have had my fill of tasting you.
“Jesus, Ilya..” Shane breaks eye contact and is visibly trying to slow his breathing. “You’ll do that if /you/ win?”
“I told you, lover.” Ilya’s grip on his thighs tightens, “Every day. Never more hungry for anything else.” He looks at the notepad pointedly, “What is your, Carr- Car-e-er, your large target ship thing?” his brows furrow when he can’t figure out a word, and Shane is always caught off guard by how endearing he finds it.
“We would… make out,” Shane looks at Ilya, ready for an argumentative response. “Like a lot; a simple thing I really enjoy doing with you is just kissing you wherever I like and letting you do the same.” Shane’s searching gaze meets Ilya’s with earnestness, and Ilya is smiling in amazement at how impossibly sweet and honest the man he loves is. He knows that list gets much more daring, but this was part of what he loved about Shane. He was a man of constant surprise and warmth, and depth and passion, and everything Ilya could ever want. Ily could cry getting caught up in thoughts of this nature; his brother had always said he was too emotional, but Shane never said that. He would kiss the salty, tear-stained cheeks and hold Ilya like it was the last thing he would ever do.
“Shanya, we are already doing that,” Ilya chuckled softly and kissed the back of Shane’s hand with shiny eyes.
“Yeah, but I would climb all over your body,” Shane shifted and closed his eyes again, pulling Ilya’s holding hand up to his lips to kiss it back, “I would kiss you everywhere until each of your nerves knows the memory of my lips, and neither of us can differentiate the taste of ourselves from the other.” It was intense in the best way possible. Ilya cursed in Russian and almost gave up game night all over again. He took a deep, steadying breath and picked up the next piece.
“Level 2, second easiest to get, Battleship.” He takes something out of the bag and holds it up between his fingers. A soft red leather strap attached to a matte black rubber ball, in sealed plastic wrap. “You’ll wear this when your mouth is not full of my cock, it will make you drool when your mouth waters from missing my hot, thick, head pressing into the back of your throat, reminding you to keep it open for me, should I need to use it.”
Shane’s eyes darken as Ilya’s explanation processes, and he clears his throat. “I want to sit on your face,“ Shane mumbles, feeling very much on display with his list. Ilya feels the satisfying rush before he realizes he is groaning at the thousand images his mind supplied when thinking of Shane’s needy hole dropping onto his tongue and lips as he pinned his hips against Ilya’s mouth to feel that tongue as deeply as it was remotely possible. “I want you on your back, with me straddling your face,” Shane continued, looking to the side of Ilya, “I want your lips pressed as hard as possible to my hole.” Ilya wasn’t sure if the shiver he felt came from him or Shane through the hand he had gripping Shane’s lower back. Shane still wasn’t looking at him while he spoke, quickly and nervously. “I want to ride your tongue,” he huffed, his breathing a little labored, “Want to feel it open me up as I grind myself against you.”
Ilya was going to die. This pretty Canadian boy, with his magical freckles and filthy mouth, was going to fucking kill him, and the game was Ilya’s idea in the first place. Ilya needed a minute before he was ready to continue. He pulled Shane by his hips so he was straddling his chest instead of his lap. Shane could grind on him all night, Ilya wanted to cum inside him tonight, though, and that wasn’t going to happen if he came in his pants here and now, damnit.
He carefully reached around Shane, back into the bag, and pulled out a new toy. Shane’s focus narrowed, his interest piqued.
“Is a new plug,” Ilya smirked as best he could, considering how turned on he was right now. “It also vibrates,” his eyes narrowed, “with a remote controller.” Shane was as red as he had ever seen him, eyes not leaving the new toy.
“Ilya…” Shane started quietly, “We need to get to this game, or I am going to go fucking crazy.” Shane took a deep breath, “I have an idea, I’ll show you my list, and you show me yours. If we have questions, we will ask, and it hopefully won’t lead to us grinding on each other and losing track of what we are doing.”
“Deal,” Ilya handed Shane the notepad and took the one he held out.
“Hoo-ly shit,” Shane breathed out, looking over the list. “You want to tie me up, put a vibrator inside me, and not let me cum? I am pretty sure you’re the devil.” There was mischief in Shane’s eyes, though, and he, despite his ‘idea’, was still grinding his very hard, leaking cock against Ilya’s chest.
“You say lots of things about evilness for someone who wants to ride his husband, but won’t let him touch.” Ilya pouted, “And what is ‘RP’? Is some weird Canadian sex position?”
“I want to watch you come apart underneath me,” Ilya sucked in a breath, and it was Shane’s turn to smirk again, “ Want you to feel desperate while I ride your dick, maybe if you beg, I might let you touch me, we will see how good it is.”
“Ok, Kótik, we shall see if you win.” Ilya quickly corrected. “And you didn’t answer my second question.”
“Right, RP,” Shane shuffled a little, “RP stands for role play.” Something on Ilya’s chest must have been very interesting to Shane, because his eyes were fixed there as he continued, “Where we would play characters, in the bedroom.” Ilya loved that Shane still got so shy, even though he was just blatantly talking about sitting on Ilya’s face not a few minutes ago. “I was thinking we could role-play those fairy kings from that audio erotica we listened to, Ember and Ice?”
Oh, Ilya remembered that audio story. He had made Shane cry the night they listened to it, teasing him slowly and lazily while they listened. He gathered up his best ‘Dane, sexy fairy king’ voice, “Do I make your wings shiver, Finn?” and looked up at Shane with a matching expression. Shane’s cock visibly twitched in his short workout shorts.
“Fuck, yeah, definitely want to hear that more,” Shane leaned down and kissed Ilya in no hurry to pull away. When Ilya’s fingers had dipped into his shorts from the bottom and gripped his ass, Shane groaned and sat up again. “Let’s play this damn game,” Shane said, and with no small effort, he got out of Ilya’s lap and sat next to him on the couch. Pulling the battleship board into his lap, he turned to face Ilya and crossed his legs. Ilya copied his position, and the game was on. Their notebooks sat in front of them, a scoreboard, a challenge, a threat.
~~~~
“Miss!” Shane was practically standing on the couch now, their boards filled with red and white pieces. “F4” Shane had perched on the back of the couch, but when he got excited or particularly annoyed with Ilya, he would jump up, even shout. Ilya was so glad he picked this game. Nothing got his heart racing faster than his husband, his husband on game night? Even better. They were pretty evenly matched at this point. Shane had sunk Ilya’s Carrier, Battleship, and Submarine, but Ilya had taken out Shane’s Destroyer, Cruiser, and Carrier. Shane would never find Ilya’s little ship; he had put it right next to the carrier that Shane sank early in the game, and he wasn’t even looking in that area anymore.
“Miss!” Ilya knew Shane’s Battleship had one place to be, with a playfully innocent tone, he asked, “J8?” Shane’s eyebrow furrowed, exactly like Ilya knew it would.
“Hit,” Shane grumbled and reached for a red peg.
“Don’t worry, Solnyshko,” Ilya said, all innocence gone from his voice, “I will make you feel so good tonight, you will forget you lost so terribly.”
“Fuck you, Rozenov! The game isn’t over yet.” Shane almost spat. He gets so feisty when he’s excited. It’s Ilya’s favorite part of playing games, sex be damned.
“No, Lyubimiy,” Ilya chuckled, “I will be fucking you though, just as I like you.” He licked his lips, and Shane copied him again. He continued, “You will be panting, begging, and not able to do anything about it until I permit you.” Shane’s eyes went hazy. “Is your turn, Kótik.” Ilya teased with a smile, and Shane looked back at his board, trying to pretend he wasn’t flustered.
~~~~
It was almost over, and Shane still hadn’t found the stupid Cruiser ship. It was impossible; there were so many slots for the 2-peg ship to be, and Shane was shooting at them randomly, coming up empty again and again. Ilya kept his four larger ships on the outside; it stood to reason that the little one would be in the middle. But Shane had torn through that area and had moved on to the sides again. Ilya had just the Submarine to find, and Shane could see on his top map that Ilya was down to two spots he could try.
“H-10,” Ilya looked over his board at Shane, getting more smug by the second. Fuck.
“Hit,” Shane replied, annoyance in his voice. “E-3?” Ilya smiled and grabbed a white peg.
“Missed again,” He said, as he winked over his board at Shane, “H-9.”
“Miss!” Shane was still in this, “B-9.” Ilya’s eyes widen. No way, was that a…
“Hit,” Ilya sat up straighter, locking in, “G-10.” Shane sank back into the couch,
“Hit.” Shane had one peg left, and Ilya knew right where it was. “B-10,” Shane winced when Ilya reached for the white peg.
“Miss, I-10,” Ilya smiled, knowing he sunk Shane’s final ship.
“Hit and sunk." the flush had stayed throughout the whole game, but it had abated a bit since he got out of Ilya’s lap. It was back now as he pushed the game board from his lap and looked at his husband, pupils blowing out, “Where do you want me?” His quick compliance always made Ilya’s head spin. It’s what inspired Ilya to tease him more, to pull his head back by his hair, to give him more instructions to see what his limits were, none found so far.
Ilya moved the table back and dropped one of their throw pillows to the ground at his feet.
“On your knees, here.” Ilya indicated with a finger, “Sit up nice and pretty so I can prepare you.” This definitely made Shane shiver; his eyes fluttered shut for a second before he was climbing off the couch and sitting on his feet, hands on his knees, big, completely blown out, and barely still brown eyes looking up at Ilya for praise. Ilya happily obliged, “Excellent form, Kótik,” stroking his cheek with his thumb, dragging it down to his lips, and Shane took it into his mouth. Ilya felt his tongue swirling over his finger, and then Shane began sucking enthusiastically. Ilya hummed, “You aren’t hoping I will forget about this part, are you, Shaneya?” He pulled his thumb from Shane’s mouth, who chased it, eyes closed, leaning almost too far, and unsettling his balance. Ilya picked up the ball gag and put his fingers against Shane’s chest to settle him. “Open wide, Kótik.” Shane’s mouth opened immediately, tongue lying against his bottom teeth in a way that was so inviting, Ilya almost pulled out his dick. It was already hard and would find a nice warm home in Shane’s waiting mouth.
Ilya steadied his breath and pressed the black ball gag against Shane’s open mouth, his lips wrapping around it instinctively. Ilya fastened the strap in the back, ensuring it was tight enough that Shane couldn’t push it out easily, but not too tight that Shane’s teeth would be cutting his mouth through the night. It was a heady sight, Shane’s hands never left his lap, his eyes half-mast, and his mouth full of the only other acceptable thing than Ilya’s dick. That would come later.
“I think I will steal one of your ideas, Kótik,” Ilya said, which made one of Shane’s eyes open a bit to focus on him. “Shorts and underwear off, spread your thighs for me, and sit up a bit higher,” Shane made the adjustments with some physical prompting from Ilya, and to Ilya’s elation, Shane wasn’t wearing underwear under the shorts. Then, Ilya lay his back on the carpet and his head on the carpet. “Give me your hands,” Ilya reached out both hands on either side of Shane, who had definitely figured out his game. Shane carefully handed each hand to Ilya, leering at him nervously. Ilya held his fingers gently, teasing his palms, his eyes taking in one of the natural wonders of the world, Shane Hollander-Rozenov’s asshole. His patience was Shane’s undoing, his hole fluttering and flexing in anticipation. Ilya was going to ruin him; maybe he would cry again tonight. Shane said last time it was like being high on brain chemicals, euphoric was the word he used. Ilya only knew that word when talking about the drug Molly, but that made you feel amazing, so it had to be good. He leaned in to his buffet, pulling Shane down by his arms, which Shane didn’t expect based on how he practically fell into Ilya’s waiting mouth.
Ilya was not complaining; he would never besmirch a universe that put his lips and tongue in their favorite place. His tongue alternated between pressing flat against Shane’s twitching hole and licking and biting the skin around it. When he pressed the tip of his tongue through the bundle of muscles, Shane groaned loudly around the gag. Ilya could tell he was drooling even though he couldn’t see him; his voice was so wet and needy, and Ilya’s dick was so hard, it hurt. Continuing to ignore that issue as it became more pressing, Ilya continued to torment Shane’s hole, slipping his tongue in and out in fast succession, his hands gripping at Shane’s wrists for stability more than anything, because Shane was pressing himself with his full professional-hockey-player strength against Ilya’s face. Not concerned with Ilya’s breathing or comfort, just chasing the touch of Ilya’s tongue, which was exactly how Ilya wanted him.
Ilya tilted his head back and perfected the angle of his face, his tongue as deep as it would reach in Shane’s ass. The hands Ilya still clung to suddenly grasped him back, and he felt Shane gasp as Ilya spread his tongue out, making it as big inside him as he could. Ilya wanted to spread his cheeks and press his fingers in alongside his tongue, but he loved how it felt to pin Shane to him. Then, Ilya remembered the list Shane had agreed to. While Ilya would very much enjoy tongue fucking Shane until he cried, then, finally, using his fingers to put him over the edge, only needing a few hurried strokes to follow after him, Ilya had a list of things, and a ball gag and rimming were the easiest two items.
He pressed his tongue deep, moving it around, stretching Shane as much as he could like this. He pulled his tongue out, licking up Shane’s perineum and sucking at the bottom of his balls. Shane groaned low and strained as he looked down at Ilya underneath him.
“Fuck, you look so hot.” Shane’s voice was labored, and his eyes were almost all pupil. Ilya could swear he’d already been fucked if it wasn’t for the insistent reminder pressing into the front of his pants. Ilya hummed against Shane’s balls, and Shane’s hips skipped a bit as he whined softly.
Ilya pulled out from under Shane, standing at his back. His hand came around to his chest, and he slid his fingers up the saliva-slick skin over his throat. His thumb traced Shane’s bottom lip, and it opened wider for him, pushing the ball gag deeper into his mouth. Shane looked obscene, and Ilya loved him ferociously. He could never guess how the universe had deemed him worthy of sharing oxygen with this beautiful, fae-prince of a man, but he would give his last breath to see Shane take another one. He took Shane’s jaw with a firm grip, desperate to taste his lips. Ilya kissed Shane’s bottom lip. Then, impulse took control, and Ilya licked over the ball gag that filled his beautiful husband’s open mouth, sucking it slightly off the tight fit in Shane’s mouth and letting the pliable leather strap snap softly back into place. He held him there for a second while he looked down at him. Shane was openly drooling and thrusting into the air a little, but his hands sat just where Ilya put them before getting up, on the tops of his thighs. So fucking well behaved.
“Hands on the couch, bend down,” Ilya cut the silence. Shane followed instructions perfectly and got into position as Ilya reached back into the bag to grab the toy. He ripped the box open and made quick work of the tear-away plastic seal, pulled the plug out to inspect it for imperfections, tested the remote, and checked the battery indicator, which showed it had a decent charge. He tossed the provided pack of lube onto the table and pulled their preferred brand from the bag, also getting out the restraint cuffs and straps he intended to use next and placing them on the table where he could easily reach them.
He broke the seal on the lube bottle and poured a decent amount on the toy, spreading it around with his fingers. Once satisfied with his work, he took his lubed fingers to Shane’s ass, parting his soft ass cheeks and sliding his slick fingers down the entire length of his crack, his finger just dipping into his twitching, still spit-wet hole. Shane chased the touch, pushing his hips back against Ilya’s fingers, but Ilya pulled them out of his reach, swatting his ass with a quick snap,
“Such a greedy slut, Kótik, who gets to say when your hole gets filled, hm?” he asked with a little cruelty slipping into his voice as he stroked the finger marks his slap had left. Shane took a deep breath in through his nose, out of his mouth, just like they practiced, and with no small amount of earnestness, responded,
“You do, baby.” His voice was still so strained and needy. “Please,” Shane pleaded. Ilya saw his feet scrunch as he resisted moving again; his heart broke into a million pieces for him.
“It is so hard to say no to you like this, Lyubimiy.” Ilya cooed as he stroked Shane’s perfect ass one more time before pressing the plug into his hole. He played the toy at Shane’s opening at first, letting Shane open for him and pulling it back out before it was an inch deep. Shane’s pleas became faster and less intelligible; he was leaning on his forearms, his hands in fists under his head, the wet spot on the couch growing under his drooling mouth, but he was too sex drunk to think about it. “I do live to make you tremble, though.” Ilya chuckled, but pushed the toy in a fluid motion into Shane’s very wet, waiting hole, and was rewarded with a thankful moan that faded into a soft whimper when the toy brushed against his prostate, neglected up until this moment.
“We will wait for this part, yes?” Ilya waggled both his brows, and the hand that held the remote at Shane. “I don’t think you would be able to stop yourself from cumming like a naughty whore without my permission. We wouldn’t want that, would we, Kótik?” Shane shook his head, still buried in the crook of his elbow. He tugged gently on the plug, mostly to put pressure on the taper and get Shane’s attention, but he hoped Shane would take it as a threat to take his new toy away. Always exactly what Ilya needs, Shane yelped a little noise at the tug and muttered messy, high-pitched, little protests into his arm, leaning back again. Ilya would forgive him; he didn’t even know how perfect he was being for Ilya right now. “Use your words, little cat, I want to hear your lovely voice.” He pulled the clip off the gag and let it fall out of Shane’s mouth with a slick sliding noise, bubbles collecting at the back where it sat inside Shane’s mouth while he begged and cried for Ilya.
“N-no, Ilya,” Shane started, moving his jaw around getting used to the movement again, still pressing his ass back against Ilya’s light tugging fingers, “I wouldn’t want to cum without permission.”
“What would that make you?” Ilya let go of the plug, and it reseated itself; Shane’s voice hiking up again as Ilya pressed the flared base against his hole, moving it in circles.
“A naughty whore. It-it would make me a naughty whore.” Ilya could hear the emotion in his voice; he was close to crying, and Ilya was only at four out of five on his list.
“We cannot have that.” Ilya felt like he was glowing with pride. He blindly reached back, not wanting to look away from Shane’s prone form. He grabbed Shane’s water bottle and the restraint set. He uncapped the water and held it to Shane’s mouth. Shane drank greedily, and Ilya knew he would with how much he’d been panting. “Good boy, my Shanya,” He stroked Shane’s cheek reverently, and Shane leaned into the touch like the black-haired cat Ilya always imagined him to be.
Ilya picked up the straps and untangled them. He had been fiddling with them earlier when planning this evening, and was particularly excited to see Shane with his body tied up and open for him to enjoy. He took the first two parts, silk ribbons with eyelets to attach them to the straps, and tied them with the easy-release knot that he had practiced for 2 hours on his own body to each of Shane’s ankles.
“Spread your thighs for me, Solnyshko.” Shane quickly complied, a tiny broken noise slipping from his lips as the movement shifted the plug. Ilya smiled as he leaned over Shane’s body, tying the last two silk ribbons to his wrists, “Spread them more,” Ilya spoke in a firm, but kind voice, and tugged at Shane’s thighs, pushing them apart, almost to their very flexible limits. Shane’s hard, heavy cock dragged on the carpet a little in this position, “Perfect,” Ilya purred as he stroked Shane’s thighs. Then, he reached up and tugged on Shane’s wrists, pulling one down to one ankle, then the other, connecting them with the shortest straps, only a few inches long. Shane moaned, no longer muffled by his now occupied arms. He lay his face on its side against the couch’s edge and looked at Ilya through a thick, hazy fog, and Ilya had to pick his very soul off the floor.
“Please,” Shane pleaded, with perfect eye contact, “Baby, I fucking need you. I’m going fucking crazy.”
“Hmmmm,” Ilya hummed with feigned disappointment, “but you can still talk, so, must not be so bad?” He picked the remote back up, and Shane’s eyes got wide, like he’d forgotten that the toy vibrated, let alone that Ilya could control it.
Ilya set it to the mode he’d been shown at the store, a gentle rumble, with strong pulses with the press of the button. The moment the first light on the remote lit up, Shane jerked like Ilya had smacked him again. Ilya heard a soft sob tear through Shane’s nose; he was fully crying now.
“Hold still, Kótik.” Ilya ran a hand down Shane’s back as he spoke softly, “If you cum with this plug in your asshole,” He emphasized his words by gently stroking the taut skin around the toy in question. Shane choked on his gasp. “I will not fuck it tonight, and I know how much you want me to.”
“Fuck…” Shane’s voice broke through his clenched teeth, tears flowing from his eyes freely, mixing with the other fluids on the couch.
“What is your color, Lyubimiy? Be honest with me.” Ilya asked carefully. Shane may be hard, but games like these could easily take a turn for the worse, and Ilya would never take the chance of breaking his fucking incredible and sexy husband.
“Green,” Shane said right away, but then corrected himself, “Y-yellow. I don’t fucking know, baby. Somewhere…middle,” Shane panted, and Ilya stopped the vibrations for the moment. “ ‘s a lot…so so good, but a little scary.”
“Thank you for being honest, Kótik. You are so good for me,” Ilya gave firmer touches to Shane’s back, grounding him for a minute before continuing. When he did, Shane was arching into his touches and begging Ilya to get back to playing with his body. “I’m going to turn our toy back on, Kótik. Do you think you’re ready?” Ilya knew he was, Shane was strong and brave, and all of the things Ilya could clearly see when looking at him.
“Yes,” Shane almost whispered, followed by, “please,” and Ilya did not need any other invitation. He pressed the button to increase the vibration, just for a second. Shane cried out and thrusted his hips, grinding his cock into the carpet, tearing his voice down into another desperate moan.
“I will make you deal, hmm?” Ilya offered. Shane’s tear-damp eyes passed from Ilya’s hands to his eyes, waiting for the next pulse. It wouldn’t come yet. If you can be my good boy and keep yourself from cumming on our clean carpet,” The carpet was far from clean at this point, but Ilya already scheduled a cleaning service for tomorrow afternoon so they could sleep in. “I will fuck your greedy, slutty, asshole. But you have to count out loud, each time I push this button. Make it to 10? I will bend you over the couch and make you see stars. If you lose count, you will have to start over, and that will not be good for you, since I doubt you can take more than 10. Sound like fun game?”
“I will try,” was Shane’s breathy response, beyond the performance of competition.
“Good boy,” Ilya praised, stroking Shane’s back. Becoming aware again of his still-clothed cock. He took his other hand and gripped himself firmly, taking the edge off of his own desperation. “We will start now.” Ilya pressed the button on the remote, Shane moaned long and low, his octave climbed as it ended in a whimper.
“W-one” His Shane, always determined to be perfect for Ilya. Ilya pressed the button again, suddenly. Shane jumped, his yelp betraying the surprise.
“Twoooo,” Shane breathed out, more air than voice.
Ilya loved catching him off guard like this. He must have thought Ilya was going to make this easy. Ilya chuckled and hit the button twice in a row.
“Fuckkk! Three, four!” Shane’s eyes were screwed shut, and he was biting hard on his lip. Ilya could hear in each jump in his tone that each jolt was lighting up his prostate, and Shane might just end up cumming on the floor with how much he was shifting his weight from knee to knee. Ilya would pretend to be disappointed, but there is no world where he would be. He would take Shane’s cum from where it landed and chase his own fast-approaching orgasm, knowing that he won’t be far behind.
Ilya was getting a little impatient, which he tended to do when making Shane wait. He wasn’t nearly as good at waiting as his tense husband, anticipating the next jolt. One quick press, and Shane was shouting out,
“Five!” Fuck, Ilya loved him so much. He hit the button 3 times in succession. Shane’s yelp turned into a ragged cry, the tears flowing down his cheeks again.
“Numbers, Kótik?” Ilya gently prompted, pushing Shane’s bangs off his sweat-damp face. Shane’s lashes fluttered, wanting to look at Ilya, but struggling to keep them open long enough.
“Six. Seven. Eight.” Shane took deep breaths between each number, being the best boy he could be for Ilya. Ilya held his cheek and locked his eyes with Shane’s, drawing them back from where he was drifting to. He held Shane’s eyes and mind, while the straps held his body. Shane was completely at his mercy. He hit the button the last two times, not letting Shane’s face go.
“Nine! Ten! FUCK Ilya, please! Please, fucking please.” Ilya couldn’t wait another second if he needed it to survive. He ripped open the fastener of his pants and yanked them down with his boxer briefs, only getting far enough to allow his cock to sling itself from where it had been ruefully trapped for way too long. He quickly tugged the plug from Shane’s body and pressed his cock immediately into his empty hole, carefully pressing himself in until he was fully seated. Shane’s head hung between his shoulders, and his whimpers were cut with sobs, moans, and pleas, begging Ilya with his mantra,
“pleasepleasepleasefuckingplease” Shane cried like he was truly suffering.
“Yes, my pretty, pretty angel,” Ilya comforted him, softly, rubbing circles into his back. He could see the tension in his hand. He wondered if Shane could feel it, or how fucking impossibly hard he was. If he thrusted once and came into Shane before Shane could cum himself, what was this all for?
After a few deep breaths, Ilya still wasn’t sure how he was going to manage, but he could feel Shane wiggling his hips, tugging on his wrist restraints to pull his thighs farther apart. Ilya pulled back, his cock almost completely out of Shane’s hole, but Ilya did not intend for Shane to feel any kind of emptiness from this moment in the night on, so he sank back in with one smooth thrust. Ilya’s gasp was punched from his chest, and all of his nerves lit up in succession. Shane was clinging to the couch cushion, moaning and whining and pressing his ass hard against Ilya’s seated cock. Ilya couldn’t hold back anymore; Shane clearly didn’t want him to either way. He thrust into Shane with long, quick drags of his hips, his hips slapping Shane’s ass and thighs, which were now spread wide, Shane’s hands gripping the straps, fucking pulling himself apart for Ilya to fuck him deeper.
“Fuck, Shane! You’re so good for me! My perfect slut!” Ilya was thrusting with a punishing speed into his husband, who was wailing and fucking biting the couch pillow.
“Ilya! Fucking please! I’m going to cum! Can I please?!” Shane’s voice told Ilya that permission wasn’t going to stop Shane’s orgasm barrelling through him like a car on train tracks.
“Cum, Kótik! Fucking cum on my cock.” Shane came immediately, screaming between gritted teeth.
“Fuck! Thank you! Thankyouthankyoufuckingloveyouthankyou” Shane’s asshole pulsed and gripped Ilya like a vice, shredding his self-control, and he was cumming too. He growled into Shane’s upper back as he shot load after load into his still-shuddering hole.
When the white faded from his vision, Ilya blinked, pulling himself tight against Shane from his position fully on top of him. Shane hummed happily and wiggled into the touch. Ilya carefully lifted onto his knees, pulling his softening cock from Shane’s ass, both actions drawing a sad whine from his husband. It was short-lived, though, because Ilya began pushing the leaking cum back into Shane’s dripping hole. He grabbed the toy and pressed it in, holding the cum inside his body. Shane groaned.
“Fuck, why is that so fucking hot?” Shane’s smile was evident in his voice.
“Because Solnyshko moyo, you are a greedy whore. And one hundred percent mine.” He unhooked the straps and untied the ribbons, rubbing each rosy red outline where they worried Shane’s skin, wiping him down reverently with the fancy wet wipes he knew he would need at the end of all this. Shane would not be able to handle waiting for Ilya to get a wet cloth, as he was prone to sub drop when left alone. Ilya grabbed their drinks and pulled Shane up onto the couch, putting the bottle against his lips for him to drink and holding him tight against him. He took a sip from the bottle he’d given Shane, not caring which was which. Shane wrapped his arms around Ilya’s ribs and nuzzled into his stomach, eyes closed, completely sated, and dozing off already.
Ilya didn’t know how his life could feel more perfect than it did in this moment.