iliyay

When the choice was get wrecked by the afternoon workout or his girlfriend, Ilia's dick picked, but he stands by it, at least for now. This, whatever happens, will definitely be more fun than the whiteboard's torture plans, and his soul needs better treats than the occasional fun-size chocolate wax to persevere.

It's the charged, silent pause where you know what comes next.

So far, only his shirt is off. If he keeps this up, he'll start wearing holes in the knees of his off-ice clothes too.

Planted to the bed between your legs instead of at training, Ilia justifies it as tongue exercises, another muscle that can be strengthened, good for articulation, more interviews and YouTubes in his bright future.

So he works, lips leaving light kisses and gentle mouths over your underwear until your hips beg for his fingers to yank them down before flinging the ruined pair away, unneeded. They can join your bottoms Ilia already stole, one tug followed by one kiss at a time, his lips leaving love's watermark.

It's the deep breath in before he licks that makes you ache. Your hold takes to his blond hair as his head tilts, angling, never afraid of trying something new. Ilia spreads you wider, limbs and folds, his hands fanning over and appreciating the smooth of your thighs before they're needed elsewhere. He lets his tongue circle, wet and warm, before lapping in, tasting you so far his nose presses to your needy clit. You can't help but grind.

"You shaved," you appreciate the soft touch against you.

Your feet drag his muscled sides, but that's not enough for Ilia. He coaxes, "Want to hear you."

Ilia will feel as though he's failed if your voice isn't weak from calling his name. He's used to being good at things. It's his identity. He's working on that.

"You taste so perfect to me," Ilia marvels, breath hot against your cunt, before kissing it more, giving a playful nip to your mound and then going back to sucks. You can feel his touch creep towards your center at a speed that feels unforgivably slow. You'll remember this later. You'll get him back.

The wet sounds mask your gasp as one finger slides inside. Ilia pumps it before deeming you need more. A second joins. He knows how to bend them.

"Oh, fuck!" You wince and buck when Ilia switches to fast flicks of his tongue across your clit. Up and down, then side to side, he tries different layouts until one, combined with his crooking fingers, makes you tug. Similar to planning jumps, all it takes is some time and a bit of finessing. He can go the distance.

Ilia recognizes your noises now. This part is like running a program. Don't stop.

Your back lifts in an arch. Ilia doubles his efforts, for you, for how much he loves seeing and feeling you come hard on him. He'd stopwatch how long you pulse rhythmically around him if you'd let him.

There's a growing wet spot on the bed beneath you. Ilia knows he could easily fit another finger; his heart and mind race when he figures he could find a place for them all, but he'll leave that for a different day. Right now, you are bare before him and on the brink, chanting his name in prayers, hair mussed and generally messy just for him. Because of him.

He pulls away only enough to say, "Want you to come. Come for me."

The simple sweetness behind his dirty words pushes you over, the need that had been building finally splitting in small spasms and high-pitched whines. It tears through you toes to top until your body stills, hot but blissed. Ilia hasn't stopped, only slowed his draws through you, fingering the extra wetness as much as you now. He dips his fingers once more, then pulls out to look.

When your eyes open, Ilia stares, lips plumped and chin still shiny, and asks so earnestly, "Did I do well for you?"

Like he is waiting for his scores. Between your legs, the kiss and cry. Like he would watch the video on repeat after to see where he might improve, artistic or technical.

"Mm," so well, you don't want to form sentences yet. You pull him up your body to finish stripping him down and return the favor, first kissing your tang from his smile.

"I'll take that as a yes," Ilia laughs as he lets you best him to his back beneath you on the bed.