Page 134 of Heated Rivalry 1
“I love you too,” Shane said.
Ilya gave a shaky smile and exhaled. “Thank Christ.”
“Does it...does it feel like agony for you too?”
Ilya started to nod, then stopped. He shook his head slowly instead.
“Not anymore.”
Ilya felt like his smile was going to split his face. He was overwhelmingly happy.
Shane was beaming up at him, eyes bright and freckles crinkled, and Ilya loved him. And Shane lovedhim.
Holy fucking shit.
Shane Hollander is in love with me.
He wanted to kiss him, but he couldn’t stop looking at him.
“How could we let this happen?” Ilya asked, and his voice was shakier than he would have liked.
“I don’t know. We are very stupid and irresponsible.”
“Very dumb, yes. Oh god, Hollander.” And then he did kiss him. How could he not?
Ilya got the urge to pin him down, as if he would disappear if Ilya didn’t keep a tight grip on him. He wrapped his fingers around Shane’s wrists and held them to the pillow on either side of Shane’s head.
“This is real, yes?” Ilya asked. He just had to make sure.
“It’s real,” Shane said. His voice was low and adorably scratchy.
“I feel like... I am dreaming?”
“You’re not. I love you.”
Ilya wasn’t sure his heart could take any more of this. It felt like it was pushing up against his lungs, making it hard to breathe. Hard to think. Hard to do anything except hold Shane down and kiss him over and over again.
Shane’s back bowed against the mattress, and he pressed his rigid cock against Ilya’s thigh. “I want to be as close as possible to you,” he said breathlessly.
“You are.”
“No. I want...”
“Tell me.”
“I want to be in your lap when you fuck me. Facing you. Holding you. I...ahh. Fuck, yes...”
He trailed off when Ilya wrapped his hand around both of their cocks.
“I want that too,” Ilya said. “I love you.”
They moved quickly, Ilya sitting with his back against the headboard and Shane straddling his lap. They kissed for a long time like that, as Ilya continued to stroke their cocks together.
“Oh god,” Shane shuddered. “I have to—you have to stop. I need you inside me.”
“Mm. Not yet. Stroke yourself for me.”
“Can’t. Ilya, I’ll come. I swear—”
