But Diesel Is Desire, You Were Playing With Fire
This is the fight/angry sex scene from my baby cow princess @myshangel 's wonderful sugar daddy au. I saw your tag asking for my take on it, and here it is. I hope I did it justice, babe!
TW for brief violence, but don't worry, it's foreplay for them.
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Ilya was going to kill him. He was going to kill him, and then he was going to go to prison for the rest of his life. They're all probably going to say that he was a psychopath stalker. He'd never get to play hockey again.
At least Alexei would finally leave him the fuck alone.
He took one last drag of the third cigarette he had smoked in the past fifteen minutes, scraping it against the side of the picture perfect building in front of him. He tucked it into his coat pocket and walked to the entrance. The doorman didn't even question his presence; he had seen Ilya around long enough to know what he was up to.
Or who he was up, rather.
As soon as the elevator arrived on the fourteenth floor, he took the few short steps forward to the door of Shane's penthouse. It took up the entire floor, ensuring he didn't need to worry about how loudly he banged his first against the hardwood door.
Shane didn't even look surprised to see him when he swung the door open. As if this was exactly what he was anticipating. And to be perfectly honest, he probably was.
"Ilya." He breathed, his eyes glassy and unfocused. Was he drunk?
He shoved past him into the foyer, throwing his jacket onto the ground and kicking off his shoes. He'd follow Hollander's house rules, but he wasn't going to put his things away neatly. A small act of defiance, but one nonetheless. He whipped himself around so that he was facing the other man.
"Well?!" He exclaimed, his arms crossed over his chest.
Shane blinked repeatedly, looking confused by what was being asked. "Well what?" He slurred, his brows furrowing as he swayed slightly. Yup, definitely drunk.
"You know what, Hollander. Buying my fucking building? I fucking told you not to do that shit!"
Shane rolled his eyes before walking in the direction of the kitchen, Ilya stomping along behind him. "What I decide to invest in is none of your concern, Ilya. You know I purchase property, and that's exactly what I did." He snatched up a half empty glass of brown liquid and took a swig, grimacing as he slammed it back down onto the counter. "Besides, what are you so worried about what I'm doing for? Don't you have some new, hot plaything to mess around with?"
Ilya's nostrils flared as he bounded closer. "What the fuck are you talking about?!"
Shane laughed bitterly. "You know what the fuck I'm talking about. That fucking girl who had your tongue down her throat at the club a couple weeks ago. Surely she can give you whatever you need better than me, right? Or did you go out and find another lonely, pathetic older man like me to leech off of?"
"Go fuck yourself, you fucking piece of shit! You say I leech?! I do not ask for half of the fucking bullshit you give! Fucking prick!" Ilya shouted in utter disbelief. "We make arrangement and then you throw it in my face like this?!"
Shane swallowed hard, his body straightening out. "I.. I didn't mean it like that..."
"I do not care how you mean it! It is fucked up to say, Hollander! Did you fucking forget that you left me?! You ghosted me! Act like I do not exist anymore. You have not answered a text from me in weeks, then, what; get mad because I danced with some fucking girl?!"
"You did it right in front of me. You stared while you did it. You just wanted to hurt me." Shane replied, his tone clipped.
"You hurt me first!" Ilya roared as he threw his arms out. Shane went to reach for his drink, but Ilya grabbed his arm. "Nyet. You have drank too much already. No more."
Shane scoffed. "Who the fuck are you to tell me what to do? If I want to drink myself into my fucking grave, I will!"
"Hollander, no. You are being fucking stupid."
Shane ignored the other man and quickly grabbed the glass, going to swallow what was left until Ilya yanked it out of his hand. Shane growled in frustration, but when he went to take it back, Ilya whipped the glass at the wall, making it shatter across the marble flooring.
"What the actual fuck, Ilya?! What the fuck is wrong with you?"
"Me?" Ilya asked incredulously. "What the fuck is wrong with me? What is wrong with you?!" He yelled, shoving Shane backwards once, twice, until finally Shane stumbled back onto the leather sofa. He shook his head and pushed Ilya back.
"Fuck off!" He yelled, squirming as Ilya wrapped his arms around him and squeezed, effectively making it near impossible to move. Without thinking, he leaned forward and sunk his teeth into Ilya's forearm, biting hard as the other man dropped his arms and let out a string of Russian curses. Before he could say anything else, Ilya slapped him across the face.
Shane whimpered, his breathing going ragged. He pressed his hand against his hot, stinging cheek as he glared up at Ilya, the two men staring each other down. Shane could feel the heat in his belly burning hotter than the mark on his face. "Fuck." He whispered before lunging forward and yanking Ilya into a filthy, open mouthed kiss.
They both groaned into each other's mouths, their tongues slipping in and rubbing against one other sloppily. Shane knotted his hands into Ilya's curls, tugging hard as they began to grind their bodies together at a quick, frenzied pace.
Ilya pulled back before they both came fully clothed. "On the couch, now. Face down."
Shane quickly stripped himself of any clothing, forgoing his usual ritual of folding everything neatly. He needed it so bad he could feel it in his fucking bones. He laid across the armrest of the sofa, the side of it pressing into his stomach as he heard the sounds of Ilya removing his own clothes. He moaned loudly into the leather when he felt Ilya's hand come down in a quick smack against his ass, his fingers sinking lower until they were circling the rim of his pulsing hole. He froze when he felt a lingering wetness, felt that Shane was much too loose.
"You fucked someone else?" He asked slowly, his body stiffening. "Was it that stupid fucking assistant that is not good for you, hm?"
Shane shook his head furiously, wanting to soothe him as quickly as possible. He ignored the fluttering he felt in his gut in response to Ilya's obvious jealousy. "No! Of course not, Ilya. I just, you know. Got off earlier. Haven't.... I haven't been with anyone else ever since we met."
Ilya hummed softly, clearly pleased with the admission. "Been saving this all for me, Mr. Hollander?" He teased, breaking into a broken moan as he pushed inside.
"Fuck. Holy shit, Ilya. Fuckfuckfuck!"
Shane mirrored Ilya's moans, muffled by the cushions as Ilya began to move in and out of him. They usually took much more care with their encounters, but this was exactly what he needed right now. He needed to be fucked hard, fast, and dirty; needed to feel like Ilya's slut.
"Can't. Fucking. Believe. You." Ilya grunted, each word punctuated with a thrust of his hips. "You think you can leave me? Think you can give this up?"
Ilya gripped Shane's hips and pistoned in faster, the room filled with the obscene sound of skin slapping against skin and their own moans. "No one can fuck you this good. No one knows this body like me, yes?"
Shane dug his fingers into the spaces of the cushions, whining loudly as he rolled backwards into Ilya's movements. "Uh-huh. Nobody like you. "
"You are insane." Ilya grunted. "You are so fucking crazy, Shane. Buying my building like that. Cannot believe the shit you pull."
Shane turned his head and looked back over his shoulder, meeting Ilya's smoldering gaze as he slowed his thrusts. "Yeah. For you. M'so fucking crazy over you, Ilya. Would do it over and over again. Anything to make, fuck. Make y-you stay."
Ilya's eyes widened for no longer than a split second before they rolled back as he groaned. "Yeah? Fuck, Shane. Fuck."
He picked his speed back up, his body flushed from exertion. He leaned forward and laid on top of Shane, his mouth dragging along the back of his shoulders. He flicked his tongue out once he reached the scar on his shoulder, rubbing the tip of it up and down the marked flesh. He nipped gently, his hand gripping Shane's bicep as the older man once again shocked him to his core.
"Fuck yeah, Ilya. Mark me like you fucking own me, baby. Show everyone I'm your property."
Ilya cursed under his breath, his movements becoming shakier and less coordinated. He slotted his teeth over the scar and bit down, sucking hard as he rutted into Shane's writhing body. They were both so close.
He pulled off with a loud pop. "You are going to come, Shane. You will come, and then you will buy me fancy jewelry to make up for being asshole."
Shane laughed, sounding drunker than he did before. "Mm, yeah. Gonna cover you in diamonds. N' buy you fancy cars and designer clothes and weekend getaways. Gonna give you fucking everything. My money and my body, yeah? All fucking yours."
Ilya moaned against Shane's neck, his body feeling more and more like it was on fire. Jesus, the way he felt hearing Shane talk like that. It did things to his mind and to his heart that he couldn't let himself think too deeply on right now.
"Come for me moya lyubov; show me who you belong to. Be a good fucking boy for your owner."
Shane came with a wail, his body shaking as he splattered his cum against the side of the couch.
Ilya gasped and pumped into him faster, muttering under his breath as he came to the edge. "Gonna come in you, gonna mark you inside and fucking out. Want you to feel me dripping out of your sweet fucking hole for days."
Shane arched his back as he panted, "Oh god yeah Ilya, fuck. Yours, m' yours."
Ilya came with a growl, shooting hot ropes of cum inside of Shane before collapsing on top of him.
They said nothing for a moment, their heavy breathing being the only sound around them.
Shane eventually broke the silence. "Can you see a mark?"
Ilya felt his heart sink. Shit, he didn't really mean it.
"Yes..." He trailed off, waiting for Shane to start panicking. To his surprise, he became visibly thrilled.
"Mm, good." He murmured with a smile. "So good."
Ilya said nothing, didn't move an inch. He was sick with the worry that as soon as this bubble popped, as soon as the haze faded away, he'd be exiled from Shane's life once more.
"Stay with me." Shane whispered, so softly that any other person would've missed it. Anyone who wasn't so desperate for any scraps of attention they could possibly get from the man.
"Stay here tonight. We can shower and order take out from that Italian place you like with the chicken parmesan. Watch silly movies in bed until we fall asleep. And tomorrow we can go to breakfast and pick out whatever jewelry you wanted, okay?"
Ilya huffed a laugh. "I was not serious, you do not have to buy me something. I think my building was enough, yes?"
Shane wriggled underneath him, turning his head to him as much as he was able to. "I know. But I want to. I wanna spoil you. Will you let me?"
Ilya bit his lip and smiled in a way he never really had before Shane, soft and sweet. Like he always did when Shane made him feel warm and gooey inside like this.
"Yes, okay. If you want to spend your money on me so badly, I will not stop you."
Shane grinned at that. "Yeah, I do... Okay, let's order and then we can shower while we wait for it to be delivered."
His smile did that same thing to Ilya's heart like he had felt earlier, the familiar buzzing in his body coming back in spades.
God he was so, so fucked.