Ilya laughs. “They’ll know I’m having good sex, and pleasing my partner. They’ll be jealous.” He tightens his grasp and slides his large hand up, focusing on massaging the head of my cock.
I bite my lip anyway, but then the sounds do start to escape me as he strokes me with more care than I would’ve expected.
More care than I deserve.
I slowly, tentatively, thrust my hips up so that I’m pushing into his hand, and he lets out his own pleased noise.
He likes that.
He likes it when I’m interested in it.
I don’t know what to make of that information.
He continues to pump my cock, and I continue to rock my hips into his touch as he does. My orgasm climbs slowly, circling me lazily, but it isn’t long before I’m crying out my release. I bury my face against his neck, moaning against his skin as he strokes me until I’m too sensitive to allow it any longer.
I shake my head, whispering, “I can’t… Oh, God, that’s so much. That’s so good.”
“I’m glad,” Ilya answers. He lifts up his hand, the one with the cum on it, and reaches out to touch my chin—then stops and laughs. “Sorry. There are tissues next to the couch. Can you give one to me?”
“You don’t need tissues,” I say. This is something I’m used to, but I wonder if he’ll balk. “I mean, I can use my mouth…” I trail off. “It’s not something I mind; it’s something I even like. If you think it’s hot, anyway. I know not everyone does.”
Ilya’s mouth parts, and this time he brings his hand closer to my mouth. “Then lick it, pretty boy. Show me how much you like your treat.”
I shiver then lean forward the rest of the way, slowly licking along one of his fingers. The taste of my own cum is strangelyfamiliar, from a time when Adam used to care about my pleasure enough to get me off even with his hand. It’s comforting, in a way.
It means someone cared enough to take me over the edge.
I continue licking and sucking his fingers, just like I had his cock, and my eyes drift closed. It’s only when it’s all been cleaned up that I open my eyes and look at him again, half-afraid to see his reaction.
His eyes are wide and his mouth is parted.
I lick my lips, unsure of what to say. “Ilya, I…”
He pulls his hand away and immediately kisses me. I gasp, surprised by the reaction, but after a few seconds, I relax into it. His beard brushes against my chin, surprisingly soft. He keeps a hand on the back of my head and around my back. Not like he’s forcing me, but more like he’s keeping me close.
Like he wants to make sure I don’t fall.
I can’t help but compare this to the early days with Adam, and I can see the difference so easily in this headspace. Adam never would’ve kissed me after I’d cleaned his hand, after I had the taste of cum in my mouth. Not even at the start.
The fact that Ilya wants me so badly that he’s willing to go through this is intoxicating. It makes the post-orgasmic high stretch on, and I sigh against his lips when he finally pulls away. I rest my head against his shoulder, glad to snuggle up to him but also aware that he can push me away at any second.
I want to cherish each of them before it’s gone.
Ilya kisses the top of my head. “And now is when I wish I was slightly younger. I don’t know if I can carry you to my room.” He pauses. “I mean the guest room. Sorry.”
This is a chance to get closer to him.
I can’t pass it up.
It has nothing to do with how badly I want to be in his arms, how little I want to be alone. It has everything to do with what Adam needs me to do.
Or so I try to tell myself.
“I wouldn’t mind… staying in your room. If you wanted,” I add quickly. “With you.”
Ilya kisses me again. “Yes. I want you in my arms, pet.”
It’s not because of his kisses, or the way he speaks to me so sweetly.
