Summary:

Shane’s back arches up, and Ilya’s hand presses him back down. Shane struggles against Ilya, but he knows that he doesn’t really want to win. He wants Ilya to keep him pinned; to keep him in his control. “Stay still,” Ilya says. His hand presses down on Shane’s chest a little harder each time he squirms. Shane grunts something out that almost sounds like fuck you, Rozanov in between panting breaths. His head is buried in his arms, eyes screwed shut with effort, trying to keep himself still while Ilya fucks him.