16. Mikhail #3
“You’re impossible, you know that? You drive me fucking insane, Danya.”
“Punish me,” he moans, loud enough that someone might hear. “Don’t stop, don’t fucking stop. Hurt me.”
I pull back slowly and then slam back in harder. And harder. Building a rhythm that has him moaning with every brutal snap of my hips, his body jolting forward with the force of it.
Someone could catch us. The thought makes me fuck him harder, my hips snapping forward with enough force to make the railing creak under his weight.
Pulling almost all the way out, I watch my cock slide free, slick and glistening, before slamming back in.
The sight of it, of him taking me so deep, of his hole stretched tight around my cock, makes my vision blur.
I do it again, pulling out just to watch the way his rim clings to my cock, red and swollen, before I thrust back in.
Voices carry through the stairwell door.
“You hear that?” I murmur, pounding into him. “Music’s loud but not loud enough. Someone’s going to hear you.”
“Good,” he gasps, clenching around me.
This side of him drives me insane. He gets off on the risk, on knowing someone could walk in and catch us like this.
He loves it when I’m rough with him, when my grip stings and leaves marks all over his skin, when I hold him down so hard he can’t move.
He’s reckless, and I want to destroy him completely.
My grip on his waist tightens until my fingers dig into bone and I start pounding into him, using my hold to pull him down onto my cock with every brutal thrust. The angle lets me sink in deeper, and he chokes on a moan, his whole body shaking with the force of it.
The stairwell fills with the obscene sounds of us, skin slapping against skin, mixing with his desperate moans and my ragged breathing. The wet slide of my cock driving into him echoes off the concrete walls, making everything sound louder, filthier.
Glancing down, I watch my cock slam into him, his hole stretches around me, red and swollen from the rough treatment.
He’s taking it so well, taking everything I give him.
I pull out slowly, and his rim stays stretched for a second before I slam back in with enough force to make him cry out.
I pull almost all the way out again, just the tip still inside him, and watch his hole pulse around me, clenching like it’s trying to keep me from leaving.
Then I slam in to the hilt, and he screams, the sound bouncing through the stairwell.
Footsteps echo somewhere around us. Voices getting closer.
“Someone’s coming,” I say, breathless, not slowing down. “They’re going to walk through that door and see you bent over, taking my cock. That what you want, Danya?”
“Fuck, yes,” he gasps. “I want everyone to know I’m yours.”
I angle to hit that spot inside him, and he cries out. Too loud. Way too fucking loud, and the footsteps pause.
I clamp my hand over his mouth and whisper in his ear, “You want them to see how desperate you get for my cock?”
He moans against my palm and nods frantically, his teeth grazing my skin.
His cock is leaking steadily now, dripping precum onto the railing and leaving a trail down to the floor below.
I fuck him faster, my hand still clamped over his mouth to muffle the desperate sounds tearing out of him.
His entire body shakes with every brutal thrust, his untouched cock bouncing and swaying between his legs, swollen and dark with need.
The footsteps start moving again, closer this time. My pulse hammers in my ears and adrenaline floods my system, but I can’t stop. The risk only drives me harder, chasing that edge, needing to push him over it.
I pull back and watch my cock slide out of him, his hole gaping and clenching, before slamming back in with enough force to make him cry out against my palm. Each time I pull out, his hole stays open for a second, slick and swollen, before I thrust back in.
“You take me so well, Danya. So fucking perfect for me,” I rasp.
He whimpers against my palm and squeezes around me. The footsteps are right outside the door now. I can hear voices, someone laughing.
I reach around and wrap my hand around his cock, slick with precum, and stroke him in time with my thrusts. The angle is awkward, but I manage, his cock hot and heavy in my grip. He’s so hard it has to hurt, throbbing in my hand with every brutal snap of my hips.
“They’re going to see you like this.” I lean in and breathe against his ear. “See me buried inside you, using you. You’re squeezing me so tight—fuck, you love this.”
His whole body seizes up, every muscle going rigid as cum shoots out of his cock in thick spurts all over the railing and floor below.
His hole closes around me so tight it’s almost painful, pulsing with his orgasm, rhythmic contractions that milk my cock.
The way he’s shaking and falling apart rips my orgasm out of me.
I lose it completely, burying myself as deep as I can go and coming inside him with brutal thrusts, filling him up while he’s still shaking through his orgasm.
His body milks every last drop out of me, and I keep moving, keep fucking into him through it.
Cum starts to leak out around my cock because there’s nowhere else for it to go, dripping down his thighs and onto the floor.
His body’s still twitching around me, aftershocks making him clench and release.
My head drops forward onto his back, forehead pressed between his shoulder blades. We’re breathing hard, and I try to remember how to function.
“I missed you so much,” I say, still catching my breath.
“I missed you too. I’m so sorry, I—”
Pulling out, I turn him around, cum drips down his thighs as I grab his jaw. “No more running. I’m serious, Danya. You try pushing me away again, and I’ll chain you to my fucking bed. I don’t care how much you cry or beg. You’re not leaving. Got it?”
My grip tightens on his jaw until he gasps from pain. His hazel eyes lock onto mine, pupils blown wide. “I’m so sorry,” he whispers, voice breaking.
“This stops right now.”
“I promise I won’t—”
“Don’t promise unless you mean it.” My thumb digs harder into his jaw. “Because I can’t watch you pull away from me again. Do you know what that did to me? I can’t go through that again. I won’t survive it.”
A loud sound echoes through the stairwell, like a door opening somewhere below us.
We both go still for half a second before scrambling to get our pants up, pulling zippers closed with shaking hands.
The door on the floor below slams shut with a heavy thud.
I take off immediately, sprinting down the stairs two at a time to catch whoever the fuck just walked in on us.
I burst through the door into the empty hallway.
No one. Nothing. Just silence.
I hear him panting as he comes up behind me, footsteps quick on the concrete. He looks over at me, distressed and breathing hard.
I shrug. “I’m sure it’s fine. No one saw anything.”
He shakes his head and bites his lip, nodding but looking completely unconvinced. Reaching for his shoulders, I shove him back against the wall and wrap my hands around his throat, squeezing hard. His hazel eyes lock onto mine, and his throat bobs when he swallows.
“I didn’t mean what I said,” he blurts out. “It’s just something I thought you wanted to hear. I swear, Mikhail, I thought you were going to tell me you regretted it.”
“I’m so fucking angry at you,” I bite out.
“How can something so wrong feel so right?”
“Because it’s not wrong.” I glance around to make sure the hallway’s still empty. It is. “You were never just my brother, Danya. You’ve been the only thing that mattered to me from the moment we met.”
He licks his lips, making them glisten in the dim light. “I’ve only ever belonged to you, Misha. From the very beginning.”
The breath I suck in feels like it’s the first one I’ve taken in days. My hand drops from his throat, and I let out a rough breath, trying to get my lungs to work properly again.
“When you didn’t come home tonight, I started texting our brothers, asking where you were,” he says, his voice quieter now. “I completely forgot about Lev’s birthday.”
I can’t help the grin that spreads across my face. “I forgot about it too.”
His head tips back against the wall and he swallows hard. “Were you going to sleep with her?”
“What? No.” I look at him and notice his eyes have gone glassy.
He keeps bringing up girls, and I’m finally putting it together.
He’s scared shitless that I want to go back to them, that I’m going to go back to hooking up with random girls.
The idea of touching someone else after him feels wrong in every way.
“Is this something you’ve been worrying about? Me being with girls?”
He doesn’t respond, just keeps looking at me with that expression. I lick my lips and try to figure out how to say this right, how to make him believe it.
“I don’t want to go back to girls, Danya. Being with anyone else after you feels fucking wrong. You don’t need to worry about me changing my mind because I won’t. I wouldn’t do that to you.”
The door bursts open, and some idiots walk out, forcing us to pull apart quickly. We can’t have this conversation here.
“Let’s go home. If you say no, I’m picking you up and walking out with you over my shoulder, and I don’t care who sees. So what’s it going to be?”
He bites his lip, shoots me a look, then takes my hand and laces our fingers together.