Page 64 of Trust

Condom.

Huh.

Adam hadn’t bothered with condoms even on our first night together. He said condoms meant we didn’t trust each other.

Ilya rolls the condom on, then pours lube onto his fingers.

I squirm in anticipation, lifting my ass in the air again and spreading my legs more. I close my eyes, and when I feel the press of two fingers into me, I moan helplessly. I want more than that. Adam never bothers with much prep, and to have Ilya take his time with me is both alluring and confusing all at once.

“More?” I ask more than say, not wanting to give him orders but wanting to clearly signal to him that I’m ready to take him.

Ilya lets out another pleased sound. “You are so tempting, Mishka.”

I want to be tempting.

I want to be irresistible.

Ineedto be.

“I’m ready for you,” I plead, pushing back against his fingers.

He slowly thrusts them in and out of me, then he withdraws them completely. “Are you sure?” he asks.

I nod, still feeling dazed but all too eager to have him inside of me properly.

Maybe I am a whore.

I can’t bring myself to care.

Behind me, I feel the bed dip beneath his weight, then the head of his cock poises against my hole. I tilt my head back as a moan spills from my lips when he starts to slowly push inside, and I don’t bother to hold back the needy sounds.

I want him to know I want this, that I want him, and I want him to keep going.

I want to prolong this high as long as I can.

“You are so tight,” Ilya moans as he finally bottoms out inside me. He grips my thighs and holds me in place for severalseconds, impaled on him. “I have imagined this for so many nights, Mishka.”

There the name is again.

It sounds intimate, affectionate, in a way I’m not used to.

“Me too,” I say, even though I’m not sure whether I’m telling him the truth or simply what he wants to hear.

I’m sure he’s only telling me what he thinks will keep me in bed with him, too.

It doesn’t matter, in the end.

I rest my forehead against the blankets again as he starts to withdraw, his strokes becoming slow but purposeful as he takes me.

It isn’t the frenetic energy Adam has when he fucks me. It’s gentler, more aware of my pleasure, and I’m keenly aware of the way he’s angling to peg my prostate on each thrust.

At this rate, I’m not going to last long.

Ilya presses his thumbs down on my welts on the next thrust, and I howl, the pain and pleasure slamming into me in equal force. I tighten around Ilya, and he lets out a moan equally loud.

We’re going to wake the neighbors.

But for once, I don’t even care.