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Summary
"And?" Ilya intoned. "So what?! It's fucking!"
"Yes, but did you consider how it felt for me?" Svetlana raised her voice to match his indignant interruption. "Did you ask? Did you even look at me, really? Really look at me? Ilyusha, it's not that you weren't allowed to be focussed on the fucking.” She wanted to throw her hands up in exasperation; wanted to poke at the rise and fall of his chest with a sharp claw. “It's that I needed, for just one second, for you to be focussed on me."
(The first time Svetlana Vetrova let Ilya fuck her, she swore it was never happening again.)
