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Ilya hears the doorbell ring and feels his heart race. He does one more check to make sure everything is in place before walking to the door. He opens it to find several of his and Shane’s teammates waiting patiently on the other side.
“Glad you all could make it!” Ilya exclaims. He grabs the red plastic cup on the small table by the front door. “Pick number and keep it with you. Do not touch anything until I say.”
Bood comes through the door first and smirks at Ilya before drawing a piece of paper out of the cup. He looks even more smug after seeing what number he pulled. He winks at Ilya and steps through the doorway.
“You really thought of everything, didn’t you, Roz?” Dyksey quips as he pulls his own number out of the cup. Ilya doesn’t reply—just shrugs casually.
“Make yourselves comfortable,” Ilya calls out, ever the gracious host. He can hear Bood whistle low from the living room. Ilya’s heart rate picks up and he can’t help peeking around the corner to see what’s happening. So far, the few people already inside are all sitting around in the chairs and on the sectional, keeping their hands to themselves like Ilya instructed. They’re all definitely staring, though, and Ilya can’t blame them.
When all eight people are inside and have drawn a number, Ilya closes the front door and locks it. He turns down the music he’s playing on the television and whistles, high-pitched and quick, to get everyone’s attention. All eight pairs of eyes turn to him, even though some of them keep glancing at the main attraction in the middle of the living room floor. He rolls his eyes and whistles again.
“Eyes up here,” he commands, his Captain voice booming through the room. No one disobeys this time. “Good. There are ground rules. So listen the fuck up because I will not repeat again.”
Ilya holds up his index finger. “First rule: You go in order of number you drew. If two of you want to go at same time, you ask me first. Da?”
Everyone nods. Two fingers go up.
“Second rule: No body fluids except spit and cum.”
Another round of nods. Another finger up.
“Third rule: I will let you know if you can make him come.”
Luca noticeably exhales long and deep. Ilya makes a mental note of that. Four fingers are up now.
“Fourth rule: You will use condoms. No exceptions.”
All five fingers are up now.
“Fifth and final rule: I go last. And you will all watch. Any questions?”
Everyone shakes their heads, and Ilya nods in approval. He walks to the center of the room and kneels down in front of Shane, who is blindfolded. He pets Shane’s hair, making Shane startle and whimper at the contact, and Ilya softly coos at him. He quickly rips off the blindfold. Shane blinks rapidly and snaps his head up at Ilya. He looks around the room, panic clear in his eyes. His naked body is draped over an oversized ottoman, and he’s strapped down with leather belts to the legs of the furniture by his wrists and the backs of his knees. His ankles are also locked into a spreader bar. He is thoroughly secure with no way out.
“No need to be scared, malysh,” Ilya whispers. “Everyone is excited to see you.”
Shane shakes his head and tries to protest over what’s happening, but the duct tape over his mouth keeps him quiet. He hears Hayden quietly swear from where he’s sitting in the loveseat next to JJ. Ilya shushes Shane.
“Tonight is going to happen,” he says, his tone a little sharper. “I own you, remember? So I can make you do whatever I want. And tonight, I want to see all of your friends fuck your mouth and your ass. You are going to be good and take what you are given. Yes?”
Shane starts to breathe quickly through his nose and shakes his head. His pretty brown eyes look terrified, but Ilya can see the faint haze of lust that lingers. Ilya’s eyes flicker quickly down to Shane’s right hand, where he’s clutching a set of keys. And he’s not loosening his grip, either.
Ilya smirks at Shane and slaps him hard across his face. Shane makes a noise somewhere between a sob and a moan.
“Yes, you will take what you are given? Answer me, shlyukha.”
A single tear falls from Shane’s eye as he nods slowly. Ilya nods once in approval and taps Shane’s cheek before standing up. He looks around the room, making eye contact with every man.
“All right. Who drew first?”
Everyone looks around at each other, waiting to see who the lucky first pick is. Ilya hears someone finally stand up and turns around. He smirks and scoffs when he sees Hayden rise to his feet.
“Lucky you, Pike,” Ilya teases. He grabs the glass bowl full of condoms and walks over to Shane’s oldest and closest friend. Hayden swallows and timidly grabs a condom. “Do not hold back. He is not so fragile.”
Hayden nods and walks over to Shane, who is watching him with pleading eyes. He shakes his head and tries to beg through the duct tape. Hayden hesitates for a beat, looks back at Ilya.
“Ignore him,” Ilya says. “He has no say here. He knows that.”
Shane’s face turns bright red as he tries to hide his face in the cushioning of the ottoman. Ilya can see Hayden getting hard in his jeans.
“We do not have all night, Pike,” he barks. “Either fuck him or leave.”
That kicks Hayden into action. He rolls his shoulders back, schools his face, and undoes the button and zipper of his jeans. Ilya can see Shane’s shoulders tense at the sound, and he watches Shane’s hands with rapt attention.
Ilya won’t lie—Hayden definitely isn’t small. He can actually see why Jackie decided to give him four kids. Hayden rolls the condom on and reaches out for one of the bottles of lube next to Shane’s knee on the floor. He gets down on his knees and starts to slick his dick up with the lube. Ilya thinks he’s using a little too much, but whatever.
Hayden stares at the plug that is keeping Shane’s hole open and ready to be used and bites back a groan. He’s slow and careful as he pulls it out and doesn’t stop, even as Shane whimpers and sobs. When the plug comes out, Hayden actually moans out loud. And he’s not the only one.
“Jesus Christ,” Hazy mumbles. Every man in this room is hard just from seeing Shane tied down and begging to be let go. Ilya knows what it says about him that he’s practically salivating at this entire endeavor, and he’s sure everyone else is starting to have revelations of their own. Shane tends to have that effect on people, whether he knows it or not.
Hayden gets himself lined up behind Shane and rubs one hand up and down his back. Shane shivers at the contact.
“Gonna make it good for both of us,” Hayden says softly as he pushes his dick inside Shane. Ilya bites his lip at Shane’s eyes going wide and then settling on defeat. And this is only the beginning. Hayden swears when he’s all the way inside, hips flush against Shane’s ass. Hayden drapes his chest over Shane’s back and whispers something in his ear. Ilya isn’t sure what he said. But whatever it was, it has Shane’s eyes rolling to the back of his head and moaning like he’s actually enjoying himself.
“Share with the group what you said to him,” Ilya says. Hayden turns his face to Ilya and takes a breath.
“I told him that I’ve been waiting to fuck him for a long time,” Hayden tells him. “And that he feels just as tight as I imagined.”
Ilya has always known that Hayden had a thing for Shane at one point, which is why extending him an invite to this party was basically a no-brainer.
“You hear that, malysh?” Ilya says to Shane. “He is expecting you to make this good for him. Let him fuck you how he wants.”
Shane whimpers but doesn’t argue. Hayden rises back up and grabs Shane’s hips. He slowly pulls more than halfway out before slamming back in. Shane makes a muffled yelp but otherwise doesn’t move or complain. Hayden starts to build up a rhythm, fucking in and out of Shane like a man on a mission. He stays quiet except for the occasional grunt or moan or “fuck” that he manages to let slip out.
Ilya turns to JJ, who is sitting on the loveseat and watching like he’s been hypnotized. All of them are, Ilya realizes. Oh yes, tonight is going to be a very fun night indeed.
Hayden’s pace suddenly starts to falter, and Ilya can tell he’s close.
“Remember rules, Pike,” Ilya warns him. Hayden nods and pulls out. He takes the condom off and quickly strokes himself until he’s moaning and coming all over Shane’s lower back and the top of his ass. Shane whimpers pitifully and hides his face from everyone. Ilya can see that Shane might be humiliated over what’s happening to him, but his dick is also so hard, it looks painful.
Hayden lightly slaps the meat of Shane’s ass cheek and gets now flagged dick back in his jeans. He stands up and looks to Ilya, who nods once. Hayden nods back and goes to sit down next to JJ once more.
“What did you think?” Ilya asks. He delights in the way Hayden’s cheeks turn bright red.
“He was good,” he replies. “So fucking good. And tight.”
Ilya hears Shane sharply inhale at Hayden’s words.
“Aww, my little shlyukha likes being good,” he taunts. He grins at the way Shane’s eyes seem to light ablaze with a bit of attitude. “You going to keep putting up fight for everyone?”
Shane’s nostrils flare at Ilya’s words.
“Good. They like seeing you fight. And so do I.”
The fear comes back to Shane's demeanor like a bolt of lightning just struck him dumb. He looks straight ahead and tries to keep his face neutral.
“Who is second person that gets to fuck my whore?” Ilya asks the room. Dyksey stands up next, already hard as a fucking rock and getting his pants unzipped. He walks over to Ilya and takes a condom before getting settled behind Shane.
“Damn, Hollzy,” he whistles. “I always knew your ass was meant to get fucked. Guys with asses like yours always do.”
The guys all seem to laugh at that, and Shane squeezes his eyes shut. Another check of his hands, and Ilya takes a breath when he sees that the keys are still in Shane’s fist.
Evan pours some lube over Shane’s hole and says, “Wanna make you really sloppy. Those are always the best holes to fuck, in my opinion.”
“God damn, Dyksey,” Bood huffs out.
“He’s right, though,” Harris chimes in. “The sloppier they are, the better they feel.”
Everyone seems to agree, and Ilya watches them. Watches their every move. But he watches Shane the most. He sits on the armrest of the loveseat next to Hayden, who is still trying to catch his breath.
Evan isn’t as nice as Hayden was. His thrusts are merciless, and he’s squeezing Shane’s thighs like they’re his only anchor tethering him to reality.
“Fuck, you feel so good,” Evan moans. “Can’t believe Roz shared you with us.”
Shane tries to say something through the gag, but it’s useless.
“No one can understand what you are saying,” Ilya informs him. The words are so mean and condescending, and Shane lets more tears fall. “What? You upset that no one wants you to talk? Shlyukhas like you do not talk. You exist to be fucked.”
“What exactly does shlyukha mean?” Hazy asks. Ilya smirks at Shane, who is shaking his head.
“Is Russian for ‘whore.’”
“Holy fuck,” Troy whispers. “Can you call him that again?”
“Shlyukha.”
Shane looks so fucking pissed at Ilya for telling everyone what that word means, but Ilya doesn’t care. Tonight, Shane has no say in what happens to him. He’s just a whore for everyone else to fuck and enjoy.
Evan comes with a loud groan, buried deep inside Shane’s ass. Shane grunts into the ottoman as he tries to wriggle out of his restraints.
“No use, malysh,” Ilya calls out as he walks to the kitchen to get some water bottles for everyone. “You can still put on show for everyone, but you are not getting out until everyone in this room has fucked you. Now who is next?”
Bood stands up and saunters over to the bowl of condoms. He takes one and gets down on one knee beside Shane. Ilya can still see Shane’s face and his hands from the kitchen, but he has no idea what Zane is saying to Shane. Whatever it is, though, it has Shane looking extra pissed and growling from behind the tape. He’s struggling twice as hard now, making Ilya mildly concerned.
“The fuck did you say to him?” he asks as he carries several water bottles back into the living room area. Zane scoffs and looks up at Ilya.
“Told him he was lucky that he wasn’t for sale,” he replies coolly. “Because I would buy him and keep for myself if I could. I know his ass and his mouth are probably worth a lot of money.”
Holy fuck. Hearing those words has even Ilya’s cheeks pinking a little bit. Everyone else reacts loudly with wolf whistles and swears.
“All right, enough,” Ilya says over the noise, and the guys settle down. Once Ilya has passed out water to everyone, he squats down in front of Shane. Fuck, he looks so sexy when he’s angry. Ilya grabs Shane’s face, his fingertips digging into the sensitive flesh.
“Bood is right, you know. Many would pay to have pretty boy like you to fuck whenever they want.”
Everyone in the room laughs, and Shane still looks just as pissed. Perfect. Ilya looks up at Zane and tips his head up.
“All yours, Bood.”
Zane smirks and slides inside Shane with very little resistance. Ilya loves the shocked face Shane makes when Zane is all the way inside him. Ilya isn’t stupid; he knows Zane isn’t small, either. Honestly, no one in this room has a small dick. He’s sure Shane is going to be gaping by the end of the night.
“Had two guys fuck you,” Zane says through gritted teeth, “and somehow, you’re still really tight. Fuck.”
Ilya winks at Shane before leaving a sloppy kiss on his cheek and standing up. Shane’s eyes follow him, and it’s clear to Ilya that he’s trying to resist showing how much he’s actually enjoying this. Ilya watches Zane fuck in and out of Shane, swearing to himself at how messy Shane already is. He’s covered in sweat, lube, and cum and they’re not even halfway done with tonight.
“Jesus, man,” Hazy says on a low whistle. “Don’t break him.”
“Hard to have much self-control when fucking someone like him,” Zane fires back. Ilya can’t argue with that statement.
“Criste,” JJ hisses. “I know everyone wants to fuck his ass, but I would give anything to fuck his mouth.”
“His mouth is very nice,” Ilya agrees. “No gag reflex.”
JJ swears in French, unable to take his eyes off of Shane. As he glances around the room, he sees that everyone except Evan is stroking themselves. Evan is watching, though, and he’s clearly enjoying the show.
Zane gets a hand in Shane’s hair, forcing his head back and his back to arch. Shane screams from behind the gag, and he’s starting to look so desperate.
“You close, shlyukha?” Ilya asks. Shane moves his head towards Ilya’s voice as much as he can and lets out a muffled affirmation. Ilya bites his lip and looks at Zane. “Do not stop, even if he comes.”
Zane nods, speechless and focused on fucking Shane into the stratosphere. Shane lets out high-pitched pleas and looks up at Ilya in despair.
“Go ahead, shlyukha,” Ilya says in a taunting voice. “Come and let everyone see how much you like taking cock.”
Shane’s body trembles and his eyes flutter closed as he finally comes all over the ottoman. Zane swears loudly and pulls out in time to take off the condom and come all over Shane’s back and up to his shoulders. A little bit seems to get into the ends of Shane’s long, dark hair. It’s going to be a bitch to wash out, but that’s a problem for later.
Zane takes several deep breaths and proudly looks on at his handiwork. He smacks Shane’s ass, making Shane jolt and whine.
“Who is fourth person?” Ilya asks the group. Troy stands up, and Harris follows.
“I was originally number six,” Harris says to Ilya, “but we were wanting to use him at the same time.”
Shane turns to Harris, eyes wide and fearful. Ilya ignores him and shrugs.
“Fine by me,” he says casually. “Who is fucking him and who is using his mouth?”
“I’ll be the one doing the fucking,” Harris replies with a smirk. Troy bites his lip and lets his eyes scan over Shane’s body. He stands in front of Shane’s face, while Harris preps himself to fuck him. Ilya watches as Troy tilts his head to the side and then forcefully tears the tape off of Shane’s face. Shane grunts and clenches his jaw. He looks up at Troy with so much anger in his eyes, Ilya almost believes he’s actually angry for a second there.
Shane keeps his mouth closed, and Ilya narrows his eyes at him.
“Open your mouth, shlyukha,” he commands. Only Shane doesn’t obey. He keeps his mouth shut, and Ilya scowls. He kneels down next to Shane and harshly grasps his chin.
“Open your fucking mouth,” Ilya repeats with a snarl. Shane tries to jerk his head out of Ilya’s grip, but Ilya is stronger and Shane has no way out of this. He digs his thumb into the hinge of Shane’s jaw and forces his mouth to open just a tiny bit.
“Holy shit,” Troy whispers, watching as Ilya actually pries Shane’s mouth wide open. Shane is still trying to fight, but it’s a losing game at this point.
“You bite him, and I will punish you in front of everyone here,” Ilya sneers into Shane’s ear. “You really want me to whip your cock with everyone watching?”
Shane suddenly stops fighting, and Ilya can feel tears drip down onto his fingers. He looks down at Shane’s hand, and he thinks Shane’s grip is beginning to slacken. But then his fist tightens back onto the keys. Ilya forces Shane to look at him.
“You will keep being my good slut, da?” he whispers. More tears spill over, but Shane still nods his head. Ilya turns Shane’s head back forward and tips it up. There is space on the ottoman for Troy to rest his knees, bracketing Shane’s shoulders. Ilya watches as Troy slowly forces his dick into Shane’s mouth.
“Jesus,” Harris moans. Ilya turns to watch him and bites his lip as Harris starts to fuck Shane. Harris, though, only seems to have eyes for Troy getting his dick sucked by the very guy he’s fucking. Ilya lets go of Shane’s jaw and stands up. He saddles up behind Troy and hooks his head onto his shoulder. They’re both watching Shane now, who is still teary-eyed but being good. The last of the fire seems to have died out of him, turning into the pliant fucktoy he was always meant to be.
Ilya looks out at the group, a sick wave of pride blooming in his chest. They’re all so fucking turned on and enthralled in Shane. Ilya can’t blame them. He knew a long time ago that Shane Hollander was one of a kind. He knew he needed to lock Shane down as soon as possible. Maybe it’s selfish to think this way, but Ilya doesn’t give a shit. Shane Hollander is his.
“Told you he had no gag reflex,” Ilya says as Troy grips Shane’s hair in his hands and starts fucking his throat.
“Fuck, I don’t think I’m gonna last that long,” Troy confesses. Ilya hums and caresses Shane’s cheek with his thumb. He can feel Troy’s dick moving in and out of Shane’s mouth like this, and it’s easily one of the hottest things he has ever seen or felt.
“Want to come down his throat or on his face?”
Troy groans and starts to lose his rhythm.
“I—fuck, I really wanna come on his face.”
Shane whines but doesn’t fight or try to be a brat. He stays right where he is and takes it—takes everything like the best fucking whore in the world.
“Do it, then,” Ilya rasps. He steps back when he feels Troy start to stand up. Ilya takes a deep, steadying breath as he watches Troy stroke himself until he’s moaning and coming all over Shane’s face. Shane closes his eyes and keeps his mouth wide open.
Harris is still fucking Shane through all of this, and seeing Troy come seems to be the very thing that brings him over the edge. He stills inside Shane and moans while digging his short nails into Shane’s hips. Shane doesn’t make a sound—just closes his mouth and rests his cheek against the ottoman.
He looks so resigned—like a truly broken whore. There is a small part of Ilya that wants to call the rest of this off, but Shane still hasn’t dropped the keys. He hasn’t tried to speak or say a safeword. Ilya knows Shane very well, and he knows that if Shane wanted this to end, he would definitely put an end to it.
So he swallows that worried feeling down and claps Troy on the shoulder.
“Hope his mouth was as good as you wanted,” he says casually enough. Troy huffs a laugh and looks down at Shane.
“You trained him well, Roz,” he says before helping Harris stand up and taking his hand. They walk back to the chaise end of the sectional and snuggle together, still holding hands and watching the show.
Before Ilya can ask who is next, JJ stands up. He kneels on the ottoman just like Troy did and gently lifts Shane’s head up. He and Shane make eye contact, and he bites his lip.
“Well, well, well, Capitane,” he croons. “Got yourself in a fucked up mess, didn’t you?”
Shane blinks at JJ, perfectly playing the part of a dumb, free use slut. JJ chuckles and feeds his dick into Shane’s open mouth. Ilya can see Shane entering subspace, so he needs to pay extra close attention to him. He can hear everyone else talking and laughing together, thoroughly enjoying what they’re seeing. All Ilya can see is Shane.
JJ is bigger than Troy, but Shane still doesn’t gag on his dick. Well trained insatiable slut, indeed. Ilya has never been more proud. JJ doesn’t last very long, either, and he ends up coming down Shane’s throat. Shane swallows every last drop, too. JJ moans at that and leans down to kiss Shane’s cheek.
“Thank you for that,” JJ whispers to him as he gets back to his feet and gets himself situated again. “So beautiful taking my cock down your throat.”
Shane’s freckled cheeks are so red from the praise, and Ilya smirks.
“Say thank you, shlyukha,” he says. Shane swallows and opens his mouth to speak.
“Tha—Thank you.”
His voice is so fucking wrecked, and Ilya can’t hold back a quiet moan.
“Oh my god,” Luca gasps.
“Jesus,” Hayden groans.
JJ turns to Ilya and asks, “Can I kiss him?”
Ilya never made a rule against it, and Shane never said he didn’t want it. So he nods his approval. JJ leans down and kisses him. Shane whimpers into the kiss, chasing JJ’s tongue. When JJ finally pulls away, Shane whines and looks like he wants to beg JJ to come back. But one stern look from Ilya stops him.
“Anyone else want to use his mouth?” Ilya asks. Wyatt and Luca are the only ones left, and they both shake their heads. Ilya nods and grabs the roll of duct tape that he left on the mantle earlier. Shane shakes his head and sobs as Ilya rips off a new strip of tape. He puts the roll back and squats down until he is eye level with Shane.
“We have no use for this,” Ilya says as he taps two of his fingers against Shane’s mouth. Shane squeezes his eyes shut but keeps still as Ilya puts the tape over his mouth. Ilya hooks two fingers under Shane’s chin and gently shushes him.
“Night is almost over, malysh,” he whispers. Shane’s eyes flutter back open, and he just barely nods his head in understanding.
Just a little longer. Ilya knows what his husband can take.
Wyatt is up and is wordlessly getting himself ready to fuck Shane. Ilya stands up and steps back to watch Wyatt fuck Shane hard and fast.
“Can you tighten up some, Hollzy?” Wyatt asks breathlessly. “You’re feeling a little loose.”
Ilya is not going to come before he gets the chance to fuck his husband, but fucking hell. The way his dick jumps in his pants is very concerning. He’s going to need Wyatt and Luca to hurry the fuck up so he can actually come inside Shane and not on the fucking rug like a dog pissing on his territory.
Wyatt suddenly hisses and moans. “Yeah, like that,” he huffs out. “Fuck, you feel so good. Jesus, I see why Roz wants to fuck you all the time. I’d keep you tied up all the time and fuck you forever, if I were him.”
God damnit. Ilya’s not going to be able to hold on if Wyatt keeps talking like this.
Luckily, Wyatt doesn’t say anything else, even as he pulls out and comes all over Shane’s ass and thighs. He takes a deep breath and gets up. As he’s zipping up his pants, he smirks at Luca.
“You’re up, pretty boy,” he purrs. He goes back to his spot next to Zane, and Luca stands up. He looks at Ilya, uncertain about what to do next.
“You can fuck him,” Ilya says. He’s maybe a little mean about it, but he’s getting very impatient. He tampers down the primal need to mount Shane and fuck him stupid, and he gestures to the bowl of condoms. Luca takes one and gets himself situated behind Shane. As he’s getting the condom on, he stares hard at Shane’s gaping hole. He does something a little strange with his mouth, and Ilya raises an eyebrow at him.
Then, like a switch flipped, Luca spits on Shane’s hole and puts two fingers inside him. Shane yelps and looks up at Ilya in surprise. Ilya is just as surprised as Shane because holy shit. Where the fuck did that come from?
“You’re not that loose,” Luca murmurs into Shane’s cum-covered back. Shane moans and rests his forehead against the ottoman. “Hazy’s dick just isn’t as big as mine.”
“Oh, fuck you!” Wyatt snaps.
Ilya hates to admit it, but yeah. Luca is definitely bigger than Wyatt. Shane is going to really fucking feel it for days.
Luca doesn’t finger Shane for long, and when he actually gets inside him, Ilya swears he’s going to fucking die before he gets to fuck his husband. Because the absolute blissed out look on Luca’s face followed by Shane’s whimpers is going to do him in.
Luca goes slow at first, praising Shane for being so good, so beautiful.
“You’ve been so good for us, Shane,” Luca moans, picking up the pace. “Playing your part, keeping your hole tight for everyone, letting some of the guys fuck your throat. You are so fucking perfect.”
Shane is crying again, but he’s also trying to hide his face away from everyone. Ilya knows how Shane gets about praise. He loves it but also can’t stand it and doesn’t know how to react to it. Insults and pain are things he can predict. Kindness in a fucked up scenario like this? Not so much.
“I’d never let you out of my sight,” Luca continues, and everyone is watching him in total shock. “I’d keep you leashed to me all the time.”
Shane is sobbing now, fists clenched and toes curled. Ilya knows he’s hard again, and he’s hoping Shane will hold on until he gets to fuck him. At this rate, it won’t take Ilya long to come. As much as he wanted to hold out, there’s just no fucking way after all of this.
Luca’s thrusts start to get more brutal, and he ends up shouting Shane’s name as he comes. Shane whines and sobs and looks up at Ilya, begging with his pretty brown eyes that Ilya can never say no to.
Luca is still shaking with aftershocks as he pulls out and ties off the condom. “Stay there,” Ilya says to him. Luca doesn’t move from where he’s kneeling next to Shane. Ilya doesn’t bother grabbing a condom. He just gets his pants unzipped and adds more lube to Shane’s hole before sliding in.
His eyes roll back into his head as he starts to fuck Shane with reckless abandon. He feels like a wild animal, but he can’t stop. Can’t get enough. He’s never been able to get enough. Shane makes every single cell in his body combust every time they have sex, and that’s not going to stop any time soon.
Ilya spares a glance at Luca and sees that he’s watching Ilya’s dick piston in and out of Shane at record speed. Shane is crying out through the gag, moans and cries high-pitched and desperate.
“Going to come again, malysh?” Ilya manages to ask. Shane nods his head, still sobbing. “Then come. Do it.”
Shane tightens around Ilya and screams as he finally comes on Ilya’s dick. Ilya swears in Russian and slams his hips against Shane’s ass, coming deep inside him with a shout. Ilya waits until he’s starting to soften before he pulls out of his husband. Shane slumps into the ottoman, sobbing and moaning into the soft leather.
Ilya gets his dick back in his boxer-briefs and zips his pants back up before looking at everyone in the room. He just let eight men—eight people he and Shane both trust with their lives—fuck the living daylights out of his husband until he was a complete broken mess on the furniture. He takes deep, steadying breaths as he makes eye contact with every single one of them. Then he finally turns to Luca.
“Go get bath started for him, please,” Ilya says softly. Luca nods and scrambles to his feet. He books it down the hall to the master bedroom’s ensuite bathroom. Ilya walks over to the back patio door and opens it. “Pool is open. Outdoor fridge is stocked for everyone. Beers in outdoor fridge too. Thank you for coming tonight.”
“Yeah, we sure did come tonight,” Evan snorts. That gets laughs out of everyone, including a small scoff from Ilya. He waits for the guys to all get outside before he hurries over to a still crying Shane.
“Hey, hey, hey,” he coos as he gently cups Shane’s cheeks in his palms and lifts his head up. “It’s over, sweetheart.”
Shane blinks at Ilya, and fresh tears leave his eyes. Ilya’s heart aches seeing Shane like this, but this is what they had agreed on. This is what Shane wanted, and Ilya is a fucking sucker for anything Shane wants. He slowly peels the tape away from Shane’s mouth. Shane takes deep, gasping breaths and tilts his face into Ilya’s hand.
“You did so good, moy lyubov,” Ilya whispers. He’s almost afraid to speak at a louder volume. He grabs the pack of baby wipes he kept nearby and wipes the cum and tears from Shane’s face. “So perfect for me. So beautiful. Fuck, I love you.”
Shane sniffles, finally starting to calm down, and takes another quivering breath.
“Kiss me?” he asks hoarsely with a trembling bottom lip. Ilya kisses him with as much love and gentleness that he can muster. He would give Shane the moon if he ever asked for it.
Ilya quickly gets Shane’s bindings on his wrists undone and checks them to make sure that there is no discoloration or any broken skin there. He takes the keys from Shane’s hand and kisses both of his palms. He cradles his husband’s hands against his cheek for a few precious moments before moving on to Shane’s knees and ankles. He wipes up as much of the cum, sweat, spit, and lube as he can from Shane’s backside—which is arguably almost all of it—and discards the wipes to the side for now. Shane makes a face but is too fucked out to say a word.
“Here, sweetheart,” Ilya murmurs as he gets his hands under Shane’s armpits. Shane whines as Ilya slowly lifts him up from the ottoman. “You okay?”
“Yeah, I’m okay,” Shane replies just as quietly. Ilya takes a deep breath and gets Shane’s arm around his shoulders. His other arm loops under Shane’s knees and counts to three before standing up. Shane hums into Ilya’s neck, his breath tickling Ilya’s throat. Shane might be a whopping 200 pounds of pure muscle, but that’s never stopped Ilya from carrying his husband anywhere and everywhere he can.
Luca comes out of the bedroom and leaves the door open for Shane and Ilya. “Everything is ready,” he says softly.
“Good,” Ilya says back. “Spasibo, Luca.”
“Anytime.” Luca turns to Shane. “You ok?”
Shane cracks open one eye and gives him a lazy thumbs up. Luca snorts.
“Go enjoy party outside,” Ilya says.
“Will do. Good night, Hollzy.”
“Night,” Shane mutters. Luca grins at them both before jogging outside to where the other guys are. Ilya carries Shane all the way to the bathroom and is relieved to see everything is in place. The ginger ale, water bottle, and fruit tray are all there and ready.
“I am going to put you in bath now,” Ilya whispers. Shane whines and tries to curl more into Ilya. “I am going to join you, malysh. Promise.”
Shane pouts but loosens his grip on Ilya and lets himself be lowered into the steaming hot water. He hisses quietly and shifts around a little. Ilya quickly gets out of his own clothes and pops open the ginger ale before getting in the bath behind Shane.
His husband sighs as he settles against his chest. Ilya feeds him sips of his ginger ale, and Shane hums happily.
“Thank you, baby,” he whispers.
“Still feeling okay?” Ilya asks. Shane nods his head.
“Yeah, I’m okay. Just sore.”
“I am sure you are. You took fucking beating tonight.”
“Worth it.”
Ilya can’t see Shane’s face like this, but he’s sure Shane has a wicked smirk on his perfect face.
“You want to go to party after your bath?”
“Fuck no,” Shane laughs. “I’m too fucking tired for that shit.”
“Ah yes, you are dead noodle.”
“Limp noodle.”
“I know what I said!”
“That doesn’t even make sense!”
“Makes sense to me!”
Shane scoffs and rests his head back against Ilya’s shoulder. They sit in comfortable silence for a little bit, just basking in each other’s embrace and processing what the fuck they just did.
“I was not too mean, was I?” Ilya asks quietly. "I know it was your idea, and you wanted me and everyone else to be mean to you. But was it too much?"
“Not at all,” Shane replies. “If anything, I think you guys could’ve been meaner. Definitely could’ve slapped me across the face a lot more.”
Ilya twists his body around just enough to be able to look Shane in the eye. Shane is biting back a smile, and Ilya rolls his eyes.
“You are crazy,” Ilya mumbles.
“Hey, you know who you married.”
Ilya smirks and plants gentle kisses up and down the column of Shane’s neck.
“Yes I do, and I am very glad I married him.”
Shane sighs and slowly turns himself around in the tub so that he’s straddling Ilya’s thighs. He cups Ilya’s cheeks in his hands and kisses him. He rests their foreheads together.
“I love you, Ilya,” he whispers.
“Ya tebya lyubyu, malysh,” Ilya whispers back.
They finally get out of the bath after Ilya has gently washed the last remnants of the night off of Shane’s skin and out of his hair. Ilya picks Shane up and sits him on the massive bathroom counter. He feeds Shane grapes and berries while also drying him off and then helping him through his nightly skincare routine. Shane is humming to himself as Ilya does all of this, completely at ease. He’s swinging his feet back and forth, letting his pruned feet graze against Ilya’s calves.
Ilya loves seeing Shane like this—unguarded, safe, and happy. And he’s grateful that he can make Shane feel secure enough to be like this around him. If he could marry this man all over again, he would.
He gets a pair of Shane’s softest underwear and pajama pants out of their shared dresser and helps Shane step into both items of clothing. After he brushes out the worst of the tangles in Shane’s hair, he carries him to their bed. Shane rolls his eyes.
“You don’t have to carry me everywhere,” he quips.
“Of course I do!” Ilya squawks. “I am not shitty husband!”
Shane’s eyes soften, and he leans in to kiss Ilya.
“No,” he whispers. “You are definitely not a shitty husband.”
Ilya swallows back the emotions in his throat and helps Shane get into bed. He knows he doesn’t need to, but he tucks Shane in just because he can. Shane giggles and yawns. Ilya gets his own pair of boxers on and turns out the lamps before crawling into bed with Shane.
“Shouldn’t you be out there hosting your guests?” Shane whispers. Ilya shakes his head and blindly kisses Shane’s temple.
“Want to lay with you until you fall asleep,” he whispers back. Shane practically purrs and snuggles up to Ilya.
“Love you, baby.”
Ilya smiles softly as he listens to Shane’s tiny snores fill up the space in their room.
“Love you, too, sweetheart,” he murmurs into Shane’s hair. He kisses Shane’s forehead and holds him close. He’ll go clean up everything and hang out with their friends in a little bit. For now, he basks in his husband’s snores and warm skin pressed against his.