Christ. It’s just his fingers. How the hell am I going to handle his cock?
His subconscious had no answer, and for long minutes it didn’t matter. Sacha worked him open with his fingers, then pulled back and rubbed his slicked, sheathed dick along Jonah’s crease, brushing his hole, but not pushing inside. It was perfect torture, but Jonah needed it. Every nerve was screaming out for Sacha’s cock inside him, but, fuck, his brain was lagging behind.
And Sacha seemed to know it, teasing Jonah for an endless stretch of time until Jonah was shaking with need, and unable to recall that he’d ever wanted to wait.
“Do it.” He widened his legs again. “Please.”
Sacha answered with his cock, dragging it along Jonah’s crease one last time before pressing against his hole, sliding inside inch by slow inch, until he was right there.
The pressure was unbelievable. Sacha’s dick was huge, and Jonah felt him in every facet of his body. It was dizzying and he staggered, lurching sideways.
Sacha caught him with a strong arm around his torso, steadying himself with a hand on the glass beside Jonah’s. “Easy. I will fuck you lying down, but I do not want to fall to get there.”
Jonah choked out a laugh. “Get a smaller cock then.”
“There is nothing wrong with my cock. You can take it.”
Jonah wasn’t so sure. He was no stranger to bottoming, but Sacha was something else. More than size, Sacha was power. Strength. Poise. Everything Jonah had believed of himself until the Russian had stepped into the lift and turned his entire evening upside down.
In a good way, though. Without him you’d still be at the Dorchester pretending you wouldn’t rather drown yourself than answer the same fucking questions over and over.
He didn’t think about William Ratner. Hadn’t since Sacha had blocked him out and given Jonah far better things to think about. Things like—“Fuck.”
Way ahead of him, Sacha began to move, eviscerating Jonah’s brain power. He circled his hips, driving his cock in and out of Jonah at an infuriating pace. A leisurely pace, as if they had all night, though Jonah supposed they did if—
Sacha cut him off again, fine tuning the velocity of his slow thrusts until they were steady enough for the slap of flesh on flesh to drown out the thump of Jonah’s racing heart. He fucked Jonah hard, holding him with one arm, and bracing himself on the window with the other. His breaths grew heavy, merging with Jonah’s ragged moans. He pressed his forehead to Jonah’s shoulder and tightened his arm around him. “Jonah Gray,” he ground out. “You are something special, no?”
The power of speech had deserted Jonah the moment Sacha had put his hands on him. He had nothing. He pressed back against Sacha, taking him deeper, and his own cock ached to be touched, but stubbornness kept his hands on the glass even as Sacha fucked him harder.
More sounds fell from him that he didn’t recognise as his own. His body became one with Sacha’s cock driving inside him. Pleasure sluiced through his veins, melting every synapse in its path. His strangled gasps became drawn-out moans. “Oh god. I’m going to come.”
“Do it.” Sacha dug his fingers into Jonah’s flank. “Come for me while I fill you up.”
The dirty words shoved Jonah over the edge. His climax rushed him, eclipsing every sense. He yelled out a stream of curses, barely registering Sacha growling in Russian behind him, and his cock erupted, painting the window with wet heat.
“Fuckfuckfuck. Damn.” Jonah wavered again.
And again, Sacha held him up, silent and strong, his only sound his laboured breaths.
Jonah was destroyed. His legs shook and his lungs burned, and beyond that, his brain was fried. He’d never come so hard in his life. What was this sorcery Sacha had brought to the table?
He didn’t fuck you on the table. You didn’t even make it to the bed.
The errant thought made him laugh.
Sacha chuckled too and slowly eased out of him. He disappeared, but was back before Jonah could blink.
He wrapped long fingers around Jonah’s wrists and pried his hands from the glass wall. “You can let go now.”
“I know.”
“You seem like you maybe forgot.”
Jonah hummed, enjoying the blood flow as it rushed back into his aching arms, and enjoying Sacha’s soothing hands on him even more. “Well, it is hard to recall just about anything when you’ve just shot your brains out of your dick.”
Sacha snorted. “Do you speak to your mother with that mouth?”
“All the time.”
“Liar. You are a good son. She told me so.”
“Oh yeah? What else did she tell you?”
“That is between us. Shall we use your shower?”
Jonah eyed the window and contemplated what he looked like after Sacha had fucked him so well. “Probably a good idea. Come on, I’ll show you.”
He took Sacha by the hand and led him to the ensuite wet room. The shower had four heads and room enough for two.
Jonah leaned against the tiles while the water heated, but the cool spray didn’t seem to bother Sacha. He stood beneath it, eyes closed, and Jonah could hardly stand how glorious he was, naked, and still half hard. “Is it a Russian thing to take cold showers?”
“It is not cold.”
Jonah begged to differ and remained where he was until steam began to rise around them and fill the room.
Sacha was already washing his hair with the citrus shampoo Jonah’s housekeeper kept topped up. Jonah wanted to help him, but awkwardness threatened the easy energy that had carried them this far. What next? Do I ask him to stay? Is it weird to spend the entire night with a stranger?
No weirder than fucking against his bedroom window, but Jonah kept his thoughts to himself and took his turn with the shampoo. He washed his hair, turning his face to the hot spray as he rinsed.
He opened his eyes to find Sacha watching him, his golden gaze more speculative than Jonah was in the mood for. “What?”
“Nothing. Am just curious.”
“About what?”
“About you. You have done this before? One-night stand?”
“Of course.” Jonah shook his head, dispersing the water gathered on his face. “Not often, though. I don’t have time for relationships.”
“I was not talking about relationships. Why would you want one? You have Grindr, no?”
Jonah rolled his eyes. “I suppose, but I don’t use hook-up apps much.”
“Neither do I.”
“No? Do you have a boyfriend?”
“No.”
“Girlfriend?”
“Not for a long time now.”
“You’re bi?”
“Does that bother you? Some men do not like to be with another who fucks women too.”
“It doesn’t bother me,” Jonah said. “I thought I was bi for a while.”
“What changed your mind?”
“I like men too much to have room for anything else.”
Sacha’s slow smirk widened. “Is there such a thing as liking men too much in your country? You have so much freedom here.”
“I’ve never thought about it,” Jonah admitted. “I know it’s different in Russia, though.”
Sacha’s shrug was inscrutable. “It is, but I do not live there, so I don’t think about it much either.”