His Lisichka [MXM]

51 - Epilogue 2

Emily was in college now, which meant Oliver was often alone.

At least, that had been the case until Ivan decided it was unacceptable.

The Russian had all but forced Oliver to move in with him, a decision that quickly led to the enforcement of Ivan's favorite new rule: Oliver had to walk around the house naked.

It was, in Ivan's opinion, the greatest outcome of a bet he had ever won.

Now, as Ivan sat in their bedroom, his green eyes followed the enticing sway of Oliver's bare ass as the doctor walked toward the bathroom. The way it jiggled with every step had the Russian's mind swimming in desire.

His body reacted instantly.

"Da," Ivan exhaled, his head tilting back as he grinned wolfishly at the ceiling. "This is paradise."

Unable to resist, Ivan rose from the bed and followed his Lisichka into the bathroom.

The sound of the shower running greeted him, and as Ivan stepped inside, his gaze landed on Oliver. The doctor was standing under the spray, absentmindedly washing himself, completely unaware of the ravenous predator behind him.

"Lisichka," Ivan purred, his deep voice cutting through the sound of the water.

Oliver froze, his body betraying him with a shiver at the rich timbre that he could never resist. "Ivan," he breathed, already anticipating what was to come.

Before he could turn around, Ivan closed the distance, wrapping his strong arms around Oliver from behind. The Russian's solid chest pressed against Oliver's back, and his very obvious arousal grazed against him, drawing a low groan from the doctor.

"Ivan," Oliver began, his voice wavering as his own body responded. His pulse quickened as he felt his resolve slipping.

"I need you," Ivan murmured, his voice low and rough, his lips brushing the sensitive shell of Oliver's ear.

"I need you now, Lisichka," he growled, his hands sliding down Oliver's sides, firm and possessive.

Oliver's breath hitched, his body already giving in. It had been like this since he'd moved in with Ivan. Every touch, every kiss, every word from the Russian sent his senses spiraling.

Despite their age difference—Oliver nearing forty and Ivan in his late twenties—he often felt like Ivan was draining the youth right out of him.

And yet, he loved it. Every moment of it.

"Ivan," Oliver managed to gasp as his lover's lips pressed against the nape of his neck, trailing down to his shoulder.