Page 101 of Heated Rivalry 1
“Maybe.” He wrapped his hand around his cock and stroked it slowly. “My pants are off. What would you do now?”
Shane dipped down into the frame. His head was cocked and his hair flopped to the side. It was fucking adorable. He smiled at Ilya. “I think you know exactly what I’d do, after all these years.”
“Still want to hear it.”
Shane’s face left the screen. He gripped himself harder through his sweatpants and moaned. “I’d take you in my mouth.I’d suck you all the way down. Fuck, I... I wish I could. Right now.”
“Mm. Me too. Love your mouth, Hollander.”
He loved a lot of things about him.
“Would you want me to fuck your mouth? Or just keep still and let you do the work?”
“Keep still. I’d do it. Make you feel so good.”
And now Ilya moaned.
Shane yanked his pants and briefs down so they were stretched wide across his spread thighs. He stroked himself, sliding his thumb over his slit. Ilya knew it must be wet; Shane always leaked like a fountain.
They both stroked themselves without talking for a minute or two, and then Ilya saw Shane’s hand pause and drop to his side.
“Hey, um, Ilya?”
“Yes.”
He watched Shane’s hand lift out of the frame, probably so Shane could run it nervously through his hair. Ilya stilled his own hand.
“Something wrong?” he asked.
“No. But... I think I’d rather see your face.”
Ilya was grateful that Shane couldn’t see his face at that exact moment, because he was pretty sure it had the world’s sappiest expression.
“Sure, Hollander,” he said gently.
Shane laid himself back down on the bed with his head nestled on one of his pillows. He reached and pulled his tablet closer to his face and smiled shyly. Ilya melted a little more, and positioned himself the same way on his bed, pulling his own iPad close.
“I forgot about the glasses,” Ilya said. “Already.”
“You really like them, huh?”
“I do.”
Shane beamed at him. Ilya couldn’t stop himself from smiling back. It felt like they were really in bed together, facing each other. Talking at the end of a long day.
Shane’s eyes fluttered closed and Ilya knew he was touching himself again. And Shane had been right—this was better. Watching Shane’s face so closely as he pleasured himself was far more intimate than if Ilya had been watching his hand on his cock. Not being able to see what Shane was doing to make himself sigh and moan was intensely arousing.
“You are very beautiful,” Ilya said.
Shane smiled without opening his eyes. “Come on.”
“Is the truth. Your freckles.” Ilya grazed a fingertip over his own cheek. “I am nuts about them.”
“I have no idea why. I hate them.”
“Noooo...” Ilya moaned. “Hollander. They are stunning.”
“Stunning?”
