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Shane was standing in a thicket of trees outside of Ilya’s house having a mild panic attack. He had left his jacket and boxers somewhere inside the modern estate but couldn’t find it in himself to care.
Ilya had called him by his given name. Ilya had called him Shane. They didn’t do that. They didn’t call each other by their first names, ever. It was personal, it held attachments. Attachments Shane had been trying to ignore he wanted. He couldn’t let himself slip into the fantasy of Rozanov becoming Ilya, could allow Ilya to change up the shaky narrative by calling him Shane.
It was chilly in Boston without a coat or undergarments but all Shane could feel was his pounding heart in his chest, his blood pumping through his veins, his breath coming out in ragged pants as he ran his shaking fingers through his hair.
“Fuck” he scolded himself, he’d been calling Rozanov, Ilya, in his head for months, maybe even years now. “Fuck, fuck, we are so fucked.”
Why? Why did he have to ask him to stay over? Why did they have to fall asleep in each others arms? Why did Ilya have to make him a delicious lunch? Why did he just have to go and ask him about his family?
Oh yeah, he scoffed to himself. Because he cared. Because he cared so fucking much even when he was trying to convince himself he didn’t. That he wasn’t actually gay. That this thing with the Bears captain, his hockey rival, was just a thing the two of them did for fun and convenience.
Shane had been trying to convince himself that this weird situationship they shared was strictly casual. As if it had ever been truly casual. The pain he felt in his chest back in Vegas when Ilya didn’t kiss him was proof then that it had never been casual for Shane. Not like it was for Ilya.

Why was he letting himself continue this when it hurt so much? Why did he have to run away when Ilya finally showed some sort of actual affection? “Fucking idiot Hollander.” He hissed to himself. Wrapping his arms around his waist. “This is what you fucking dream of and you run at the first glance of it.”
No, he had to go back. He had to go back inside and try and talk to Ilya about this. He had no idea what he would even say. What was there to say? ‘Hey I know we fuck and its great and we are also rivals but I have been dreaming about all this domestic shit you showed me today so we have to stop’ . No he couldn’t say that. Ilya would laugh in his face. Or, would he? Maybe Ilya felt it too. Felt the burning in his chest when he looked at Shane. Why else would he ask, beg even, for Shane to stay over? They didn’t do that.
Maybe, just maybe they could do something about the tense chemistry they shared. Or, Ilya would laugh at Shane and just kick him out of his house, but Shane had already left so being kicked out wouldn’t be the worst thing that could happen.
Shane was reminded just then of a quote that stuck with him since he first read it in high school,
“The fear of suffering is worse than the suffering itself.” Why was he letting himself wallow in the what ifs when he could just go and find out what the ifs could actually be.

Shane opened the door slowly, shuffling his feet and looking down at the floor as he stepped back into the house. He didn’t have a chance to close the door fully before he was being slammed up against the wall by an irate Ilya Rozanov.
A strong forearm was pinning his chest and shoulders painfully back as Ilya used his left hand to cradle the back of Shanes head so it wouldn’t hit the wall, thick fingers pulling roughly on the silky black strands of hair that were mussed from Shanes anxious hands.
“So Hollander,” Ilya growled as he increased the pressure of his arm across the shorter mans chest. “You think you just… just run away like frightened кролик?” His cheeks were flushed and he tilted Shanes head to the side, pressing his face closer to his ear. He nipped harshly at Shanes earlobe as he spoke again. “You think is okay to leave just to come back? No knocking on the door? Just walking right in?”

Shane’s cheeks were bright red. Ilya’s rage was stunning, the painful grasp he had on his hair, the heavy pressure of his restraining arm, his hot breath fluttering on his neck, the sharp bite of his too white teeth on his ear. All of those factors were turning him on but none could compare to the devilish glint in his eyes or how his accent was so thick he could hardly understand him.
Shane whimpered as the fingers in his hair tugged roughly and he arched his back, eyelashes fluttering as he tried to press himself against the taller man. “Ily… Ilya, I, I.. I’m sor-

He was cut off abruptly by a chilling laugh and a muscular thigh shoving between his legs and pinning his lower half to the wall. “Oh so you call me Ilya now?” He shook his head, golden curls bouncing, “Mm no. No I do not think you will call me that.” Ilya raised his knee up, applying pressure to Shanes stiff cock. “Oh poor Shane Hollander, so hard for me with just a little manhandling.” He brought his knee back down and gazed piercingly into Shanes eyes. “I know what you need. What only I can give you.” He dropped his arms and stepped back, watching as Shane slumped against the wall, his legs unsteady as the pressure pinning him back left so abruptly.

Shane stammered, panting “Roz,”

“No. You have lost name rights.” Ilya cut him off again. He snapped his fingers and pointed at the ground, “Kneel.”

Shane dropped to his knees with a loud thump. He tilted his head up and gazed at Ilya through his lashes. Cheeks stained pink and chest heaving, an obvious tent in his sweatpants. His head was spinning, a fully body tingle spreading from his toes up to his neck, a fog of submission trying to consume him as he kneeled on the floor.
Shane had felt submissive with Ilya before, most of the time really. But nothing like this, not this full body immersion he was slowly starting to feel now. It was like every atom in his body was responding to this version of Ilya he had never met before. There was no fight left in him, only a desire to follow instruction. Subconsciously he was leaning toward Ilya, seeking contact as his eyes stayed fixed on the hard hazel gazing down at him.
His lips parted softly as Ilya reached a hand down to him, slipping his thumb into his mouth, pushing down on his tongue, pulling a breathy moan out of the Canadian captain.

Ilya sucked in a harsh breath as he watched Shane submit so beautifully, the strong man a whimpering mess at his feet sucking whorishly on his thumb. “Listen to me closely Hollander, I will give you what you need but you must listen.” Ilya watched Shane’s face closely, making sure the kneeling man was paying attention. “We have safe word now. You know what a safe word is? Nod if you understand.”
Shane nodded, drooling around the thumb that was still in his mouth.
“Good, good. Safe word is red. Okay? Can you say red for me?” He pulled his thumb out, a string of saliva connecting him to Shanes plump lips as he grasped his chin and waited for the response.

Shane blinked slowly, his brown eyes full of lust as he worked on forming the word in his mouth. “Red. Red is the safe word.”

“Good boy.” Ilya patted his cheek. “If you can not speak, you pinch my thigh two times, yes?”
Shane nodded again but made no move to demonstrate the action.
Ilya patted his cheek again, harder this time. Leaving a very faint red mark “You will show me and then I will fuck your face until you are crying. Understand?”

Shane moaned and arched his back, thrusting into the air looking for friction where the was none. He leaned forward and pinched Ilyas thigh twice in quick succession before leaning back and opening his mouth, waiting for Ilya to live up to his words.

Ilya muttered some heated words in Russian and quickly pulled himself out of his loose joggers, moving the hand that was clutching Shanes jaw to tangle tightly in the mans hair before he pulled him forward and eased his cock into the wet hot mouth that was waiting for him. “Oh fuck Hollander” he gasped out as he pushed in deeper.
Shane moaned and went nearly limp in his grasp as he had his mouth used. His brown eyes fluttered shut as Ilya thrust in. Drool was leaking out the corners of his mouth as his head was being pushed in time with the thrusts of Ilyas hips. “Eyes open. Look at me while I use this pretty mouth of yours.” Ilya hissed out as he thrust in deeper, making Shane gag around his length.
Shane forced his eyes open, vision blurry with unshed tears as he looked up at Ilya. Moaning and gagging as he was forced to take the majority of Ilya’s nine inches. “Good boy Hollander. Oh so good for me. So pretty on your knees with my cock in your throat. Moaning around me like the good cock slut you are.” Ilya’s words sent shivers down Shanes spine, increasing the submissive fog in his mind. Shane moaned brokenly and thrust desperately up into the air needing some sort of friction or pressure on his straining cock and getting nothing.
He whined and squirmed under Ilya’s hand, wanting so desperately to reach down and stroke himself but not daring to, knowing if was allowed, Ilya would have told him he could. “Aw you need something, блядь?” Ilya asked mockingly, his accent nearly obscuring the English words.
Ilya thrust harder into Shanes throat, making the man gag and splutter around his cock, spit flying from the corners of his mouth, making a bigger mess on his chin an Ilyas thighs.
His vision was getting spotty, black spots flashing from lack of airflow. Ilya noticed and pulled out of Shanes mouth, dragging him up by his hair as he gasped for air.
He coughed violently and leaned against the taller man as he tried to steady his breathing. It wasn’t long before Ilya was tilting his head up and bringing their lips together in a bruising kiss, sloppy and full of teeth. The drool and spit on Shanes face slicking Ilyas beard as he moaned into the kiss. The hand in his hair dropped to the nape of his neck, a tight squeeze holding him steady as Ilya plundered his mouth with his tongue.
“Such a good boy, Hollander. Keep it up and maybe I will let you come again.” Ilya groaned, lips brushing together as he spoke. He tucked himself back into his joggers and pulled Shane into the bedroom, shoving him roughly onto the bed. “You will stay right there. No touching, no moving. I will be right back.”

Shane had no idea if Ilya was gone for a minute or an hour. He was floating in some place he had never been before. All he knew was he was told to stay put so stay put he did. He knew his throat and knees hurt, but it was a nice hurt. A hurt gifted to him from Ilya. Nothing could be better than that, nothing except listening to what he was told to do. Being a good boy. That was the best thing he could think of.

When Ilya came back, it was with a large water bottle and a plate of some random veggies. He set the plate on the bedside table and opened the water bottle before holding it out for Shane to grab.
Shane didn’t move from his spot, he wouldn’t move until Ilya told him he could. He blinked his brown eyes up at hazel, waiting for the next command. He was rewarded with a pleased smile, “Good boy staying where I left you. Sit up against the head board and drink some water.” Ilya caressed Shanes cheek while he spoke, fingers tracing over the spattering of freckles. He watched Shanes throat bob as he slowly sipped at the water, his too perfect teeth tugging at his bottom lip.
When he was satisfied Shane had enough to drink, he pulled the bottle away and drew him into a soft kiss. Just a light caress of lips. “Do you remember safe word, pretty boy?” Ilya asked softly. His fingers brushing delicately over the flushed freckled cheeks.
Shane nodded slowly. His pink tongue darting out to run along his bottom lip. “Red” he whispered, “pinch if I can’t talk” he finished. Brown eyes swimming with affection and beautiful submission as he gazed at Ilya.
Ilya smiled lightly and brushed a strand of hair off Shanes face, brushing a kiss on the tip of his nose. “So good for me Hollander.” He stepped back and clapped his hands together loudly before folding them in front of his stomach. “We are going to play game now. You like games, yes?” He smirked down at the man sitting on the bed. “The rules, simple. Easy. I tell you what will happen and you will do it. You will use the safe word if is too much. You will be a good boy and I will give what you need.”
Shanes breathing got heavier as Ilya spoke, his cock achingly hard and weeping in his sweats. His hands subconsciously tugged at the bed sheets as he stared with unfocused eyes at the taller man. “P…p… please Ilya” he keened, tilting his head back til it connected with the headboard. His words were slurring as if he had too much to drink, skin flushed red as he panted. Waiting for what was to come.

A heavy hand came down hard on his thigh, shooting sparks of pain up Shanes body. He snapped his head up, mouth agape. Ilya had never hit him before, not like that. “No. You do not call me Ilya. You do not call me Rozanov. You run away from name so you loose the right.” Ilya squeezed the thick muscle of Shanes thigh with a bruising grip. “New rule,” he sneered. “You will call me Sir.” He increased the pressure of his hand. Shane would most likely have a hand shaped bruise there later.
Shane moaned wantonly and arched up, drooling and writhing as Ilya’s words washed over him. Yes this was what he needed. He needed this loss of control, he needed to submit and put his trust in this beautiful mans hands.
“You like that Hollander? You want to call me Sir and fall apart under my hand?” Ilya asked mockingly. Soothing the spot on Shanes thigh he had handled so roughly.
Shane keened again, blinking up at Ilya. “Yes.. yes S.. Si… Sir.” He reached a shaking hand out to Ilya’s face, trying to touch him anywhere he could. Needy for contact but his hand was slapped away.
Ilya grabbed Shane by the ankles and hauled him to the edge of the bed, ripping the sweats that were now damp in the crotch off of Shane in one quick move before doing the same to the flushed mans shirt.

Ilya sat on the edge of the bed and pulled Shane onto his lap, Shanes leaking cock trapped between Ilyas thighs as he had his face pressed into the mattress. “You will get one smack for every minute you make me wait when you ran away from me. Understood?” Ilya massages Shanes bare ass as he spoke in a low timber. Feeling the muscles flutter under his fingertips. Shane groaned in response, grinding down now that he had pressure on his stiff dick. “Good boy” Ilya purred. “After every smack, you will say, thank you Sir. Can you do that for me?” Shane moaned again, pressing his ass into the large hand above him.
“Yes sir please please please.” He whined desperately, mind lost in the fog of his surrender.
The third plea had barely left his lips before a hard hand came down with a punishing intensity on his left ass cheek. He yelped loudly, grinding himself harder into Ilya’s thigh, “Oh! Mmm thank you Sir!” He belted out with a long moan.
Ilya grabbed a handful of ass before raising his hand higher, “Such a good boy, eleven more for me, okay?” He didn’t wait for a response before bring his hand down harder on the same spot as the first smack. Swearing in Russian as Shane moaned louder and thanked him, pressing his ass up looking for more.

Ilya switched cheeks with every other smack of his hand, drunk on the power of having this sweet captain moaning and writhing underneath him. Shane was mumbling incoherently, begging for more, nearly screaming with every hard smack upon his cherry red flesh.
Drool was falling from Shanes lips, pooling on the bedsheets as he lost himself in the painful pleasure of being thoroughly spanked. The tenth smack to his bruising ass was so intense, white blocked out his vision and Shane came hard, screaming his release all over Ilyas clothed thighs. “Oh oh Oh god oh god thank you thank you sir thank you thank you.” He cried, hot tears streaming down his face to join the puddle of drool on the bed. He was shaking, fully overstimulated with pain and pleasure and such a deep need to obey his sir’s every command.

Ilya laughed gleefully, eyes bright with mirth as he held his hand above his head, “Oh you beautiful little slut. Coming all over my leg from a few spankings. So pathetic, so pretty. You like this, yes? You like being punished. Being put in your place under me. Such a dirty boy. What would your teammates think of their sweet, shy captain coming all over from just a little smack? Hmm?” His breathing was ragged, his thick cock painful hard and pressing against Shanes stomach. “Mm one more for me” he murmured to the twitching man before bringing his hand down hard, the force of his smack almost jolting Shane off his lap.
Shane wailed, his body tensing as shocks of pain jolted through his entire being. “Oh god thank you sir.” He cried, shaking all over as Ilya leaned down to press a soft kiss to each bruised ass cheek.

Ilya gently turned Shane over and tilted his head up slowly, brushing his nose along Shanes cheek and inhaling deeply. Shanes face was red and puffy, streaked with tears; eyes full of admiration. “Such a good boy you are.” Ilya whispered to him. Kissing the swollen lips softly as he trailed his hands over the quivering mans back. “You did such good job, taking me so well мой хороший мальчик.”
Shane smiled softly and linked his arms around Ilya’s neck, cuddling into his chest and pressing wet kisses over his collarbones. “Mm it was nice Sir. Never feel so floaty before.”, he mumbled between kisses. Completely lost in the moment, in this weird headspace he didn’t know he could slip into. He nuzzled into Ilyas neck, breathing in the calming redolence that was Ilya Rozanov.

Ilya stroked a hand through Shanes sweaty hair, pressing kisses on the crown of his head while he held him, softly rocking him in his arms. “You are okay, yes?” He asked the sighing man. “Not too much?” Tilting Shanes head up to look into his eyes.
Shane blinked at him slowly, a shy smile tugging on his mouth before leaning in and smacking a messy kiss to Ilya’s upper lip. “Not too much.” He sighed softly, melting into the embrace and knocking their foreheads together.
Ilya smiled and gently lifted Shane off his body, laying him down onto the large mattress, pressing kisses onto the constellations of freckles that adorned the shorter mans back and shoulders. “Good boy. Stay here I will be right back.”
Shane moaned softly and burrowed his face into the plush pillows as he felt Ilya’s weight lift of the bed, listening to his footsteps walk away from the bed. Shane was blissed out as he laid splayed out on the bed, he had never felt so loose and free before in his life. Like nothing in the world mattered except for this moment.

Ilya walked back into the bedroom carrying a large leather box in his hands. He set it down at the chaise lounge at the end of the bed and took a moment to just admire Shane spread out naked and completely relaxed on his bed. He quietly stepped out of his joggers and stroked himself as he thought about what else he would do to this perfect submissive man before the night was through. The power was going to his head, both of his heads. Shane Hollander, the bratty minx calling him Sir and coming all over him after just ten spankings. It had been the third orgasm Shane had today, and Ilya was determined to pull at least three more from the man.
He dropped his heated gaze from the man on the bed and opened the leather box he retrieved from his walk in closet. Pulling out two silk neck ties, a vibrating cock ring, a silver wartenberg wheel, his favorite spreader bar and a prostate stimulating vibrator. Ilya grinned to himself, if he hadn’t already ruined sex with anyone else for Shane, he definitely would now.

He walked to the side of the bed and stroked his hand down Shanes back from neck to flank. Groaning softly as Shane arched his back and purred like a cat. “Remember safe word, pretty boy.” Ilya whispered into Shanes ear.
Satisfied when Shane mumbled the word, Ilya gently pulled Shanes arms behind his back, folding them how he wanted and tying them together with one of the silk ties. He pressed a kiss between the mans shoulder blades and maneuvered his hips up so that Shanes ass was sticking up in the air with his face pressed into the pillows. He grabbed the spreader bar and extended it one less than as wide as it could go before strapping Shanes ankles into the cuffs.
The sight stole the breath from Ilyas lungs, Shane looked so perfect, so pretty presenting for Ilya like that. Legs spread wide open, half hard cock hanging between his open thighs, arms tied perfectly together behind his back. “Such a good boy for me Hollander,” Ilya rasped out. “So beautiful when you are like this.” He kneaded a hand firmly into the bruised flesh of Shanes ass, pressing a kiss to the mans back dimples before standing straight again.
Shane moaned quietly, gently tugging at the ties around his arms as if testing the integrity of the knots. He moaned louder when he realized he was completely at the mercy of Ilya Rozanov, the man he had been seeing his entire adult life.
Shane keened loudly, back arching deeper when he felt Ilya take his overstimulated cock in hand and slide something down the shaft and around his balls. Gasping he asked, “Wha… what is that?” His voice coming out in broken pants as he felt a tight pressing weight cinch around his half hard cock and balls.
Ilya laughed breathily, nipping at the skin of Shanes inner thigh, “That, ангел, is a cock ring. So you can not finish early.” He swiped his tongue over the bite. “Relax and let me give you what you need.” He squeezed Shanes hips roughly and licked his way from the tip of Shanes cock, over his balls all the way to his perfect hole.
Shane moaned loudly, breath hitching in his throat as Ilya teased his hole with his hot tongue. “Mm ah, sir, fuck, oh fuck, ah what.. what, oh, oh my god. Ah sir, wha-” the ties around his arms and the bar between his legs kept him from writhing as much as he wanted as Ilya grasped his ass, spreading his cheeks so he could bury his face between them, lavishing his quivering entrance with his tongue. Shane was mumbling and moaning incoherently, sparks igniting in his veins as he succumbed to the blissful wonder of being rimmed for the first time.
He was crying, overstimulated and needing to come again for the fourth time that day. But his orgasm was staved off by the cock ring Ilya had fixed to him. “Ahhh Sir! Please! Please I need to come!” He begged, voice breaking with need. He felt a hot exhale of breath against his hole as Ilya laughed.
“Mm, no.” The Russian brought his hand up to Shanes aching cock and switched on the cock ring, sending overwhelming vibrations around Shanes length making him scream.
“OH my, oh my god Ilya! Please!” Shane screamed before his voice turned into whimpers and moans again.
A hard smack reverberated on Shanes tender ass, jolting him forward. Adding to the overwhelming sensations saturating his body and mind. “You call me Sir.” Ilya growled, biting Shanes thigh and bringing his hand down again making the smaller man cry out in a mix of pain and pleasure.
Shane gasped and tried to shift away, more overstimulated than he even knew he could be, but to no avail. He was locked down. Ilya had wrapped his hand around Shanes bonded arms and was holding him down as he continued his ministrations with his tongue. His other hand was caressing Shanes ass before moving down to join his tongue on Shanes hole. He used his pointer finger to trace around the rim while his tongue slipped inside Shanes body, eliciting another scream from the man below him.
Shane was sobbing, but he didn’t need to use his safe word, not yet at least. It might have been overstimulating and intense but he could handle it. His body was so overcome with sensation he couldn’t tell where he began or ended. “Sir,” he screamed, “Please please please please I… I … I need.. I need need to.. to come please please. Fuck!” He yelped as Ilya shoved two fingers deep inside him, crooking them slightly to perfectly rub against his prostate. His tongue sloppily working with his fingers while he took Shane apart. Ilya moaned against Shanes hole as the man bucked up into his mouth, trembling with need and overstimulation.
Ilya savored every drawn out moan and scream as he continued his brutal fingering, hitting Shanes prostate with every twitch of his fingers.
When Shanes moans and sobs turned into breathy hiccups and whines, Ilya pulled his mouth off him and leaned back, continuing to rub against his prostate. He pulled his hand off Shanes bound arms and carded it through the sweaty black strands of hair. “What do you need? Do you need to come? Do you need me to stop?” Ilya asked softly, not letting up on his fingering.
Shane tried sucking in air, crying and spluttering as he trembled all over, “S… sir.. sir pl… please please pleaseeeeee, mmm fuck, ah.. please please let me, ah… ple-” he screamed, cutting himself off as Ilya increased the pressure of his fingers against his swollen prostate. “Ah please! Sir! Let me come! Please!” He was fully sobbing and hiccuping, trying to get friction on his weeping cock and getting nothing.
Ilya tightened his fingers in Shanes hair before releasing the strands, “Am sorry? I do not understand these words. Your English is, well, not good right now. Please repeat.”
Shane moaned loud and long as Ilya brushed the tips of his fingers over the shaft of Shanes cock. “Fuck Sir please! Please! Please let me come please! Fuck fuck fuck.” He begged loudly, sobbing in-between each word as he pleaded for release.
Ilya smiled and bit down hard on Shanes left ass cheek. “Mm okay.” And pulled the cock ring off Shane with a flick of his wrist, shoving his tongue deep into Shanes hole as he did so.
Shane screamed again, crying out with all the breath left in his body as he came for the fourth time that day, shooting hardly anything out of his spent dick.

Shane was a mess, his body felt light and also impossibly heavy at the same time. His face was flushed and his throat ached something fierce. He was shaking all over and couldn’t stop moaning even when Ilya pulled his fingers and tongue out of his ass. He felt hands pulling him up to a kneeling position, a strong arm holding him against a strong chest as another held a water bottle to his lips, tipping it up so he could drink.
Shane could faintly make out words being spoken softly against his ear as he floated outside his body, something about opening his mouth and swallowing. Maybe something about breathing?
Ilya was holding up the limp body of Shane and trying to bring him back to his body long enough to get him to take in some water and regain control of his breathing, he was switching between praises in Russian, and commands in English. The hand supporting the limp man was tracing soft circles into his shoulder and his face was pressed hotly against the side of Shanes head.
It took a few minutes but Shane eventually caught on to the words as his breathing evened out enough to gulp down a few mouthfuls of wonderfully cold water.
Ilya exhaled a breath he didn’t realize he was holding when Shane finally took a drink.
He pressed messy kisses against Shanes face, tightening his arm around him, “Such a good boy. Is okay? So good for me Shane, so good. Are you okay?” His voice was slightly panicked, his accent thick as he murmured softly. He set the bottle down and tilted Shanes head to him and looked deeply into those beautiful brown eyes. Kissing Shanes nose and cheeks first before very softly pressing his lips against Shanes swollen ones.
Shane gazed at Ilya with unfocused eyes as he tried to understand what was being said to him. He couldn’t remember his own name, couldn’t remember anything except for how good his beautiful Sir made him feel. The murmured words were blanketed in an accent so thick he could only guess what was being spoken. Hazel eyes looking at him with so much concern and affection it made him start crying again.
“Hey, hey Shane. My good boy.” Ilya rasped out as fresh tears fell from the worn out mans eyes. “Are you okay? Did I hurt you?” Ilya brushed the tears away as Shane shook his head slowly, kissing Ilya's jaw softly.
He hiccuped and opened his mouth, a nearly imperceptible whispered, “no no not hurt. Just feels so much. You… you, you’re so, so, you’re so everything.”
Ilya smiled a bright sunshine smile, a smile that was only ever for Shane. “О, моя любовь.” He breathed. “Am so proud of you, you do so well. Such good boy.” He kissed Shanes nose again, and then his jaw and then finally his lips. “But we are not done yet. You can give me two more can’t you, my good boy?” He asked playfully. Enjoying the way Shanes breath hitched every time he called him a good boy.
Shane blinked slowly, considering Ilya’s words before nodding his head. “Okay sir.” He whispered demurely.
Ilya grinned, smacking a loud kiss against the side of Shanes face before gently lowering him back to the bed, face down ass up.

Ilya covered Shanes back in soft kisses before he walked back to the leather box. Grabbing the prostate stimulator, lube and wartenberg wheel. He stalked back to the bed and got situated behind Shane, kissing his hips and his bruised ass.
As he applied a thin layer of lube to the vibrator he checked in with Shane again, “You remember safe word, yes?” Not entering the toy until he got the affirmative answer. “Good boy.” He kissed Shanes hips again and slid the toy in, relishing in Shanes heady gasp as it pressed against his prostate.
“Mm fuck Ilya,” Shane moaned. Ilya gave a cheeky bite to Shanes flank, not correcting the lack of title anymore, not after he came apart so prettily for him. Shane jerked roughly against his bonds when Ilya turned the toy on. Rolling vibrations rocking through Shanes body as his prostate was perfectly stimulated.
“Ahh oh my god fuck fuck oh my god Ilya so so so,… ohh, so so good fuck.” Shane mewled pathetically. Arching his back and squeezing around the toy that was playing him so perfectly.
Ilya started to slowly twist the toy inside the moaning man, sending intense shockwaves of pleasure through Shanes veins. His legs twitched, making the spreader bar clash against Ilyas knees from where he was kneeling behind him.
Ilya smirked, whispering filthy things in Russian as he enjoyed the show of the beautiful man panting and swearing below him, all tied up and pretty for him. “Such a greedy little slut you are for me, Hollander.” He grabbed the wheel and slowly started running it up Shanes inner thighs.
The sensation made Shane squeal, quickly turning into a drawn out moan as Ilya increased the pressure. “Oh, oh, oh fuck.”
“You like?” Ilya asked, not expecting an answer from the shivering man. He continued circling the vibrator against Shanes prostate and ran the wheel up and around Shanes balls and shaft before pressing harder when he reached Shanes v-line; the silver spikes leaving small indents in the sensitive skin.
Shane screamed, moaning so loudly and wantonly, Ilya almost came untouched. “Fuck fuck fuck!” He screamed again “oh god sir I need to come please sir please can I come please please please.” Shane begged, crying out deeply as pleasure overtook him.
Ilya bit his lip hard enough to draw blood and pressed the wheel harder against Shane, “Yes you can come.”
And Shane did, screaming and thrashing as much as he could in his restraints. Ilya watched with hooded yes, dropping the wheel but continuing his pressure with the vibrator that was pulling sobs and moans out of the Voyagers captain until he was satisfied with the amount of overstimulation Shane was in.

He shoved the toys off the bed and gently released Shane from his restraints before rolling a condom on his painfully hard cock. He quickly lubed himself up and flipped Shane onto his back, pressing his knees up to his chest and slamming into him with one thrust.
Shane cried out loudly, hot tears rolling down his face as he locked his arms around Ilya’s neck, pulling him into a messy kiss as Ilya slammed into Shane at a punishing pace.
Shane was moaning and writhing, clutching onto Ilya like a lifeline fingers tangled in the messy golden curls as he was fucked into the mattress.
“Ilya so good so good thank you thank you thank you,” Shane wailed, clenching around the hard cock inside him. His brown eyes were rolled back in his head, eyelashes fluttering against his flushed skin. A beautiful litany falling from his lips as Ilya ruined him, the only words on his tongue was Ilya’s name.

Ilya wrapped his hand tightly around Shanes throat, cutting off the bottoms words, knowing if he kept repeating his name in that beautiful tone, Ilya would profess his love for him. And it was not the time for confessions of love, not today. Not after or during such an intense scene.
“Shane you perfect perfect boy, come for me. Come with me.” He rasped out, pressing his lips against Shanes as he quickened the pace and released his hand from around the mans throat to wrap around his overstimulated cock instead.
Shane screamed and came for the sixth time as soon as Ilya wrapped his hand around his spent cock.
As Shane clenched impossibly tight around him, Ilya came with a shout, strokes slowing down until he was lax inside the trembling mans body.
They stayed like that for a few moments, foreheads pressed together, breathing in each others air as they panted and came down from the high.
Ilya pressed their lips together in a gentle kiss that felt more like a declaration of love than anything Shane had ever experienced before. It was a slow lazy kiss, full of unspoken promises and unspoken words. It felt like home, like safety, like his cottage.
Embarrassingly, he started crying again, but it was the type of crying that came with unpolluted happiness, with peace. “Je t'aime Ilya, je t'aime tellement. Peut-être que je t'ai toujours aimé.” He didn’t mean to say it, it just slipped out as the kiss came to an end.
Ilya didn’t speak French, but he knew enough to know Shane had just said he loved him. He said it at least twice. And then Ilya was crying too, and kissing Shane again and again. All over his face, his head, his neck, anywhere he could reach.
“My sweet boy. I love you too. I love you so much.” Ilya was cradling Shanes head in his hands, running his fingers over the freckles on his cheeks that he loved so much.

They laid there, gazing at each other lovingly for many minutes before Ilya slowly slipped out of Shanes warm heat and stood up. He reached over for the water bottle and plate of assorted veggies, handing them both to Shane. “I will run us a bath, eat, моя любовь. I will be back.”

The pair shared a warm bath, staying in the water until it turned cold and their skin pruned. Whispered “I love you’s” and praises falling from their lips as they enjoyed the easy comfort of just being together.
They knew that one day, they could make this a normal part of their routine together.