Page 65 of Trust

Each thrust elicits another cry from me, and I tremble as I feel myself careening closer and closer to climax despite the lack of touch to my cock.

I think he is, too; his thrusts get more erratic, and his hands move to grip my hips as he moves within me.

When my orgasm hits me, I’m not surprised, exactly, but the force of it is startling. I revel in it, and my only regret is that I won’t be able to feel him spilling into me.

I whimper as my oversensitive cock rubs against the bed, and he lets out a harsh cry of his own as he stills inside of me.

I imagine the flood of his cum in my ass, filling me, and I take in a deep, shaky breath.

If only.

It’s only when he relaxes that I collapse down onto the bed completely, spent.

Ilya pulls out. I close my eyes and ready myself for the command to clean myself up, but Ilya leans forward to kiss my shoulder. “One second, Mishka. I’ll dispose of condom and grab towels.”

I’m used to being the one who does that.

I nod, though. If he wants to keep flattering me and spoiling me, why not let him?

He gets up and vanishes into the bathroom, returning with a damp cloth—and completely naked. I blush when I see his fully nude body, the soft hairs covering so much of it.

I’ve managed to roll over in his absence, avoiding the wet spot on the bed. “Sorry,” I say awkwardly. “I made a mess on your sheets.”

Ilya laughs. “I think I made it, by bringing you so much pleasure.” He lies down next to me and begins gently cleaning my cock and hole. “You enjoyed that?”

“Very much so,” I say, breathing out slowly. I’m starting to come back to reality, which is unwelcome, so I cuddle up close to him and close my eyes. “Do… Do you think you could hold me for a little while?” My voice is so small, so uncertain, and I hate myself for asking.

But in the wake of the flogging, of the sex, I need it.

“Yes.” Ilya pulls me into his arms, kissing my forehead. “You were so beautiful, Mishka. I was afraid to hurt you, but it felt good. So controlled. I took this ugly thing inside myself and gave you what you needed.”

I nod, exhaling slowly. He isn’t going to get angry with me. He enjoyed that as much as I did. “You did,” I agree. “It… It was perfect.”

Ilya taps his fingers along my arm. We lie together like that, and I drink up his warmth, his quiet approval.

“We need blankets,” Ilya murmurs. “If we are going to sleep.”

I nod again. “We do,” I say, but I don’t move to try to get under the covers.

Ilya sighs, but he pulls away from me to pull the blankets over us. As soon as he’s lying down again, I slot myself against his side.

I need him.

The thought of being alone right now makes me want to cry.

Ilya turns so he can face me. He traces the line of my lips. “You are amazing. It is rare for me, to meet someone like you,” Ilya says. “Your music went straight into my soul, Mishka. Not just your music. Your eyes. Your lips. Your beautiful voice.”

I swallow around the lump in my throat.

How can I betray this man?

“I’m not what you think I am,” I whisper. “I’m not innocent. I’ve done things, too.”

Maybe dealing drugs doesn’t put me on the same level that he’s on, but I’m not free of sin. I know what happened to the addicts who didn’t come around anymore.

Jail, if they were lucky.

If not…