“Yes. So fucking good.” Shane tilted his head back slightly, still watching himself in the mirror. “Want to make you feel good too.”
“You are. I love this.” Ilya brought his lips to Shane’s ear. “I love when you let go like this.”
Shane loved it too. Loved that Ilya could do this to him. It was terrifying and wonderful to feel so free in this man’s arms.
“Ilya,” Shane panted. “Ilya. I’m going to come.” He squeezed his eyes shut as the dam began to break inside him.
“Open your eyes,” Ilya commanded softly. “Watch.”
Shane’s eyes flew open at the same moment his cock began to spurt over Ilya’s fist and onto the floor. He could see how tight the muscles in his chest were, the way his abs and thighs trembled as his whole body rocked with pleasure.
When it was over, he slumped back against Ilya and huffed out a slightly hysterical laugh. “Fucking hell.”
“Good?”
“Yeah,” Shane sighed. “Yeah. That was just alotbefore breakfast, y’know?”
Ilya nipped his earlobe. “It was very hot.” He wiped his hand on Shane’s stomach.
“Ugh. Gross,” Shane said, and squirmed out of his arms. He stepped out of his shorts and then used them to wipe the floor. He knew Ilya was probably rolling his eyes behind him about how fussy Shane was about mess, but he didn’t care.
“Take a shower, Hollander. I will make breakfast.”
“What about...” Shane stood and gestured to the very obvious tent in Ilya’s shorts.
“Later.” Ilya smiled. “We have all day.”
Shane kissed him. “Okay.”
“Is chocolate pancakes good for breakfast?” Ilya asked.
“Uh—”
“I am kidding. I will make your gross protein shake.”
“It’s not gross,” Shane lied.
“Go. Shower.”
Chapter Twenty-One
December
“Do you have many friends?” Galina asked.
“Tons,” Ilya replied quickly, slightly offended. It was his third appointment with his therapist, and he wasn’t sure he was making much progress.
“I mean, do you have many people you can confide in? That you trust?”
This time Ilya didn’t answer so quickly. “I love my teammates. We have fun together, and support each other, but, no, I don’t talk to them about...myself.”
“What do you do, when you aren’t playing hockey, and when your boyfriend isn’t around?”
Ilya shrugged. “Not much. Stay home. Watch TV. Play video games.”
“Is that how you’ve always spent your free time?”
He shook his head slowly. “No.”
