bite down on a stick of dynamite
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“I’m not weak,” Hollander says, and despite the quiet admission, his gaze is steady when it meets Ilya’s. “It’s not like…like that."
“You are not weak,” Ilya agrees. He seizes Hollander’s chin and tips his head back, fingers digging into the clean-shaven warmth of his cheeks. “You understand where your place is. There is a difference.”
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- Part 1 of bite down on a stick of dynamite
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"When we are alone," Ilya says. "You will take your clothes off.”
“What? Why?”
“When you are here, you are mine.”
Hollander licks his lips, and Ilya wants to follow the trail of his tongue. “And that’s supposed to help me relax?”
“I know you will relax. You stress too much. Here, you give it to me.”
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- Part 2 of bite down on a stick of dynamite