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    Summary

    Ilya Rozanov finally allows his teammate and close friend, Cliff Marlow, to give his sweet 'Montreal Jane' a spin.

    Marlow finally understands what all the hype is about.

    Ilya takes the bait. “Go fuck yourself, Marly. I fuck my Jane exactly the way she needs. I fuck her better than you could ever dream to.” Ilya’s hand has made its way to Shane’s neck, gripping tightly in ownership.

    Cliff lets out a short laugh, his hips moving faster and hands now grabbing Shane’s hips. Ilya responded even better than Cliff thought he would. “I wouldn’t speak so soon, Rozanov. I’m just getting started.” His thrusts change angles slightly, and a wail is forced from Shane’s lips as Marlow nails his prostate. Cliff takes that as a sign to continue his torment. “Who knows? Maybe after I’m done with her, Jane is only gonna want my cock whenever we’re in Montreal.”

    Ilya is seeing red. He knows what Marlow is doing. Knows he’s only saying these things to get this exact reaction from Ilya, but dammit, Ilya is only human. “Gonna fuck your girl good enough that she can only cum thinking of me. This pussy is—fuck—is gonna be molded for my cock. Isn’t that right, Jane?”

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