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    Summary

    “Ya khochu tebe otsosat,” Shane murmurs, tracing the bulge of Ilya’s cock through his thin pajamas with his tongue, tone reverent.
    Ilya suddenly looks like a starved man offered a five-course meal.
    Large, powerful hands thread through Shane’s hair and squeeze, pulling at strands without causing pain, just making heat and pleasure course through his already-deprived body, making him near-ravenous with lust. “Fuck, malysh,” Ilya hisses brokenly, hips stuttering. “Let me fuck your mouth, yes? God, Shane, I need you so bad.”
    ___
    OR, five times Shane learns useful Russian phrases that drive Ilya insane with want, plus one time Ilya rambles in Russian while fucking him senseless, and Shane understands.

    Series
    Language:
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