"Were you now?" I added a second finger, watching his face as I curved them to stroke against the spot that made him gasp and arch. "Presumptuous of you."
"Crime bosses aren't the only ones who can plan, Nicolai." My name on his lips was a challenge and a plea.
I leaned down to capture his mouth again, swallowing his moans as I worked a third finger into him. He writhed against my hand, his own hands gripping my shoulders hard enough to leave marks. More little electrical pulses danced across my skin where he touched me, heightening every sensation.
"Now," he demanded against my lips. "I need you now."
I withdrew my fingers, using the slickness still coating them to stroke my cock. The sight of Mishka spread out beneathme, flushed and wanting, was almost enough to undo me. I positioned myself at his entrance, the blunt head of my cock pressing against him.
"Tell me what you want,malysh," I murmured, needing to hear him say it.
"You," he gasped, his legs wrapping around my waist, urging me closer. "Inside me. Now."
I pushed forward, breaching him slowly, watching his face for any sign of discomfort, but there was only pleasure in his expression as I seated myself fully inside him, his tight heat enveloping me completely. I had to pause, overwhelmed by the sensation and the sight of him taking me so perfectly.
"Move," he urged, his heels digging into my lower back.
I began to thrust, setting a rhythm that had him moaning beneath me. His hands roamed across my chest, leaving trails of tingling electricity in their wake. Each touch heightened my pleasure, pushing me closer to the edge.
"Harder," Mishka demanded, his voice breaking on a particularly deep thrust. "Fuck me harder, Nicolai."
I complied without hesitation, driving into him with increasing force. The sounds he made—little gasps and broken moans—fueled my desire, pushing me to give him exactly what he asked for.
The sofa creaked beneath us, the only other sound in the room besides our labored breathing and the slap of skin against skin. I shifted my angle, hitting that spot inside him that made his back bow and a cry tear from his throat.
"There," he gasped. "Right there."
I maintained the position, driving into him relentlessly as his cries grew louder, his body tightening around me. I wrapped my hand around his neglected cock, stroking in time with my thrusts, determined to watch him fall apart before I allowed myself release.
Mishka came with a cry loud enough to alert every security guard on this floor, his body clenching around me as he spilled over my fist and onto his stomach.
The sight of him coming undone—head thrown back, throat exposed, eyes clenched shut in ecstasy—pushed me over the edge. I growled his name as I thrust deep one final time, my release hitting me like a physical blow as I emptied myself inside him.
For a moment, the world narrowed to just this—the feeling of his body around mine, the sound of our labored breathing, and the lingering electricity dancing across my skin.
I collapsed beside him, managing to avoid crushing him only by bracing myself at the last moment. The sofa was hardly ideal for two grown men—one of us significantly larger than average—but neither of us seemed inclined to move.
Mishka shifted to accommodate me, tucking himself against my side as naturally as if we'd been doing this for years instead of days. My fingers traced idle patterns on his sweat-slicked skin as our breathing gradually returned to normal.
A sense of satisfaction—deeper than mere physical release—settled in my chest. My bear, normally restless after such intense activity, felt unusually calm.
"The lights are still on," I observed, glancing around the room. "And the security system seems intact."
After our first encounter, we'd blown half the electronics in my penthouse, including the supposedly impenetrable security system. Yuri had been apoplectic, convinced we were under some kind of attack. The explanation—that Mishka's abilities tended to surge during intense pleasure—had not improved his mood.
Mishka's laugh was soft against my chest. "I'm learning control."
"Impressive." I pressed a kiss to the top of his head, inhaling the scent of his hair.
"Well..." He traced a finger down my chest, leaving a tingling trail in its wake. "I didn't say perfect control. I may have accidentally turned on all the TVs in the building to the same porn channel."
I blinked, processing his words. "You did what?"
"Just for a minute!" he defended, propping himself up to look at me with those too-innocent blue eyes. "I think I fixed it before anyone noticed. Probably."
The image was too absurd—every television in my heavily secured building suddenly broadcasting pornography, likely the high-end kind I kept locked in a special server—and I couldn't help myself. Laughter, genuine and unrestrained, bubbled up from my chest.
Mishka stared at me with wide eyes, clearly surprised by my reaction. "You're... laughing."
