Chapter 8 Micah #2
“Beauty doesn’t equal goodness,” I say, and I lean into the touch again despite myself. Charles had been handsome, too. “It doesn’t equal innocence.”
I’m so far from innocent.
I’m deceiving him right now.
If what Adam tells me is right, if Ilya really is Russian mafia and an informant has already disappeared, Ilya would kill me if he knew the truth.
But I can’t back out now.
Ilya bends down, and I tilt my face up. I stare directly into his pale blue eyes, feeling them boring into me—but not judging. Not like Adam’s do.
“Do you want this?” Ilya asks. “Do you want me?”
A shiver runs through me, and I whisper helplessly, “It would be cheating. I don’t want to cheat, Ilya. You’d never respect me if I did.”
But Adam said it’s not cheating if it’s “work.” He’d wanted me to do this, at any cost.
I need to do this. I need Ilya to trust me.
Or is it simply that I want him like he seems to want me?
“Why would you say that? You are reaching for something you desire. You deserve to be happy, Micah. And I know you aren’t happy with…” Ilya shakes his head. “I have seen men beaten bloody. Sex does not make me lose respect.”
My heart is thundering in my chest, and I exhale shakily.
Will it make me lose respect in myself?
Something small, then. Something… Something I can handle.
I turn away from him, nuzzling his inner thigh. “May I?” I ask, my voice barely audible.
Ilya looks down at me and nods. He spreads his legs wider. “You want to sit there, pet?”
Pet.
The word makes my mouth go dry, and I lick my lips, unsure of what to make of it. It should be demeaning; from Adam, it would be.
From Ilya, it feels right.
I want more than to simply sit between his thighs, but I’m not sure how to ask. I’m not sure how to say what I want. I hesitate, then lean in, kissing along the inner seam of his pants until my lips press beside his cock. “Here,” I whisper.
If I do this, he’ll think I’m here for sex. He won’t think I’m here for any other reason.
Ilya inhales sharply. “You want a treat, pet? You want to take me into your mouth and suck me?”
I nod quickly.
I’m only doing this because I have to.
Adam wants it, needs it, but I’m so afraid of how he’ll react once he finds out I’ve actually done what he ordered me to do.
I shouldn’t be so afraid of the repercussions of obeying, but I am.
Damn it.
If I’m going to do this, I’m going to have to stop letting thoughts of Adam interrupt me and spook me.
Ilya undoes his belt buckle and fly. I watch as he slowly pulls his cock out.
It’s thicker than— thicker than I’m used to, and I swallow in anticipation. I could have that in my mouth. I could play with it, feel it grow heavy and hard.
“Take your treat, pet,” Ilya whispers. “Taste me.”
The sound I make is little more than a mewl, and I nod again, leaning in. I wrap my hand around the base of his cock, squeezing lightly. Charles had liked that, but Adam—
I don’t know if Ilya will like it, so I carefully watch his reaction.
Ilya’s eyes flutter shut, and he lets out a small groan. “Good. Lovely boy.”
The praise goes right to my own cock, but I ignore it in favor of leaning in to lick the head of his cock. The taste of his precum bursts onto my tongue, and I lap at the slit while I work my hand along the length of him.
I’ll take more, but I want to take this slow. I want to enjoy every second, every sound, every bit of it.
I try to remind myself that this is fake. It’s all fake.
But it’s not.
Ilya moans and spreads his legs wider. He places his hand on top of my head, but he doesn’t push me down or rush me. It’s a reminder that he’s still there, but not a demand.
“You are…” Ilya murmurs. “I’m not a young man, Micah, but I think you might convince my cock we’re twenty years younger.”
I realize I have no idea how old he is, but it doesn’t matter. Any age difference between us is irrelevant. The words make me smile around his cock as I take the head past my lips, my cheeks hollowing out as I suck him in.
Little by little, I start to take more of him into my mouth; his soft groans and other sounds only encourage me, along with the way he begins to harden.
I’m doing that.
Ilya runs his fingers through my hair, and I glance up at him. He’s staring, smiling at me, and I realize I’ve never seen Adam smile during sex.
“I have never been so close, so fast,” Ilya says with a rueful chuckle. “You like sucking cock, pet?”
Not for a long time.
But it had felt so right, so natural, to do this for Ilya that I nod.
And I’m not lying, either. It is good.
I push myself a little harder, take him a little deeper, until the head is pushing against the back of my throat. I swallow around it, persisting despite the way tears well up in my eyes and my gag reflex threatens to trigger.
Suddenly Ilya’s hand on my hair tightens, and he pulls me back. “Don’t choke yourself,” he reprimands harshly. “I won’t let you hurt yourself because of me.”
I blink up at him, startled. “What?” I ask dumbly. “It’s fine. I want to do this.”
Don’t I?
I don’t mind it, at least, and that’s what matters.
Ilya scowls. “If you’re coughing and choking, I won’t like it. I don’t want my partner in tears.”
I stare at him, still uncomprehending. I don’t understand.
Adam—
This isn’t Adam.
“It’ll feel good for you, though,” I say in a small voice, afraid that I’ve done something to piss him off. “And I don’t mind. It just takes me a second to get used to it, that’s all.”
Ilya shakes his head. “No. It won’t feel good for me if I’m worried that you’re in pain or not enjoying yourself.”
I can’t make sense of it.
On one hand, I know he doesn’t want to hurt me, but on the other, doesn’t he want pleasure?
I can’t tell if I’m relieved or disappointed, either.
“Okay,” I say. “But—”
The look on his face has me abandoning that sentence, and when I go back to sucking his cock, I feel more confused about the whole thing.
Ilya Zima is a violent Russian gangster. He’s cold and uncaring.
Despite that, he’s showing me more consideration than… than Adam does.
Adam likes it when I choke.
Adam wants to see me tearing up while I take his cock.
Ilya lets out a small sigh, gently nudging me back. “Micah, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to…”
“You didn’t do anything wrong,” I whisper. “I did.”
I should’ve known it would go poorly.
“No, you didn’t,” Ilya says. “I wanted to give you something you liked, but now I scared you. I’m sorry.” He lets out a deep, rumbling chuckle. “I’m good at scaring people.”
I blink up at him, surprised. “Scare me? You didn’t scare me? I just thought I made you mad, that’s all.”
For all that I know he’s supposed to be a big, scary Russian mobster, I can’t bring myself to look at him in that light — for better or for worse.
Ilya pauses, then he says, “I don’t want to hurt you. Do you really enjoy choking on cock? Don’t say you’re fine with it, or it doesn’t matter. Do you enjoy it?”
My kneejerk reaction is to say that yes, of course I do, but the way he’s asking me makes me really consider it. Do I?
I pause, then finally nod. I do enjoy it when I have control of it. When I do get to set the pace, I like it. I like the way it feels, the triumph I feel when I manage to take it all. “Yes,” I say. “It’s a challenge I like to succeed at. Just… let me set the pace?”
Is that too much to ask? My mouth is dry again.
Ilya looks down at me, considering. His cheeks are flushed red, though, and his eyes are wider than before. “All right. Take what you need from me, Micah.”
“Only if you’re comfortable with it,” I croak out. “If you don’t like it, I don’t want to— to force you.”
I would never do that to someone.
Now Ilya smiles again. “It would be a very strange day if you could force me to do anything, Micah.” He takes hold of my hair again and guides me back against his cock. “Swallow me whole. Do it.”
I shiver with anticipation, though his words still ring in my ears. I’ll just have to do better, to show him how good it feels, to show him how good it makes me feel when I descend into that place where the discomfort is good. Where up is down and left is right, where everything is perfect.
I start slowly, working my way back up to it.
Again, my gag reflex makes my throat work convulsively around him, but I persist, pushing myself down on him. While his hand remains in my hair, he doesn’t force me. He doesn’t need to.
I moan loudly, and Ilya’s cock twitches in my mouth in response. Ilya groans in turn, settling deeper into the couch.
“That feels good, Micah,” Ilya whispers. “You’ve already got so much of me inside you. You’re amazing.”
The praise makes my body tingle, and I focus on taking more, swallowing harder around him as I press on.
I place both of my hands on his thighs, allowing more of his cock to sink into my throat.
The tears continue to well up in my eyes, but they’re not from any sort of distress.
I close my eyes, focusing, and soon my nose is buried in his pubic hair as I take the last inch of him past my lips.
I linger there for a moment, then pull back up, taking a deep breath and looking up at Ilya to see his reaction.
He has this look of absolute wonder on him, and before I can react, he bends down to kiss my swollen lips.
“All the way in,” Ilya murmurs. “I could feel your throat fluttering around me. I’ve never felt that before, Micah.”
“I like it,” I whisper, feeling dazed, feeling wonderful in such an unfamiliar way. “I like tasting you, feeling you. It’s… It’s bliss. It’s like… nothing else matters, like it all just falls away.” I shiver. I need it to all fall away.
My own cock is surprisingly hard in my pants, and I toy with the idea of unfastening them to touch myself. I ultimately decide not to, instead focusing solely on Ilya as I go back down on his cock.
This is about him, not me.
Again and again, I push myself to my limit, and by the time his fingers are tightening in my hair and he’s warning me so distantly of his imminent climax, I don’t care.