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Summary
“Can’t stop thinking ‘bout how hot it is,” Hollander said. “If you fucked me like this.”
Ilya’s pulse jumped in his throat. “Fuck,” he moaned.
“Yeah, ‘cause I can’t really move. ‘Nd I don’t really know — maybe I wouldn’t really know wha’s happening. But it’d be okay, ‘cause it’s you,” Hollander said, as if the gravity of those words weren’t nearly unbearable.
“Hollander, fuck,” Ilya said as arousal coiled, hot and tight, in his stomach. “You want me to fuck you when you’re drunk?”
“Yeah,” Hollander said. “‘Cause normally — normally I can take you, y’know?”
“Take me?” Ilya echoed.
“Yeah,” Hollander said, huffing, sounding a little offended even though Ilya had just wanted clarification. “Push you off ‘nd stuff. Stop you. If I wanna. But I don’t wanna. I just. I have no control right now, y’know? You could do anything, and I’d —” Hollander swallowed, thick and audible through the phone. “I’d trust you. I’d just be so —“ His next words shook. “Helpless. You could just… take. What you want. Anything you want. Everything. I wouldn’t even matter.”Shane calls Ilya while drunk.
Series
- Part 1 of drunk hollanov