Dear All,

As I anticipated, this weekend I am updating "Loving You is Forbidden" and the new chapter is out ... now you will feel the intensity of their love and desire growing , or so I hope :-)

I hope you will enjoy it and I will be looking forward to reading your comments and messages! Let me THANK YOU ALL for your wonderful comments, feedbacks and for your votes: thank you, thank you, thank you!

I dedicate this chapter to All of You waiting for more "intimacy" between the hot bastard and the temperamental brat and in particular to BookWorm1737: thanks for the very interesting and stimulating exchange of opinions in the comments and for your support.

I selected a picture of Tolya in the action of removing clothes (--> very handsome and very talented Alexander Ludwig ... ps, I love the serial "Vikings" ) and we can understand Oleg's reaction I believe. The song is from Imagine Dragons and it had a rhythm that seemed to match most of the actions and pace of this chapter.

Now, I won't add more. Enjoy the new, long chapter and let me know what you think of it!

"For a few seconds they looked silently into each other's eyes, and the distant and impossible suddenly became near, possible and inevitable," by Leo Tolstoy in 'War and Peace'.

ANATOLY POV

The week passed relatively quietly and no more bullshit happened in school. OK, almost. We cleaned Viola's locker and mine too, since the following day other words had been sprayed on it; this was so ridiculous that I was beginning to think that the "artist" might have been a kindergarten school brat, for all I knew. Those words meant freaking nothing to me and apparently, they got the message, given nothing else happened the following days. That jerk of Sergey kept to himself and mostly ate alone, and it's not like I missed his presence or his annoying sneer. Yet, it was strange, because it was damn clear Viola and Seryozha liked each other, and the weirdest thing was that she actually let him be.

Bull, it wasn't strange.

I understood what was going on and it was good in this way. Surely Lebedev hadn't behaved as lowly as I did in the past, but he had his fair share of crap. I guessed that some "thinking" time would do him some good. I saw the way he looked in the past days and I knew what went through his mind all too well. Waking up wasn't always the sweetest thing and it could actually throw you in another sort of nightmare, once you faced your conscience. His one must be biting into his ass.

Adrian explained me that his sister was somehow conflicted between the fact that she liked him, but that she was still "upset" (if you could ever imagine a girl like Viola being actually upset or mad) for how he behaved with me. I snorted at that, not for much, but because I hadn't been a peach either and we all knew it. He told me that they needed their time and I decided to keep my nose out of it. It was pretty clear that it wasn't all about that. I think that having discovered and slightly seen his real good sides wasn't enough anymore for her and she was damn right; she deserved a guy with a real set of balls and steel-made backbone, someone that could make her laugh and smile in the way she usually did and that could also take care of her like the knight in shining armour she so much lounged for. So yeah, the jerk had to work his ass off to get his princess and that was right.

I smirked, casting my eyes at him now eating alone on a chair: I was damn going to enjoy this. In my eyes, that idiot was never attractive or good looking; girls though seemed to like him and now the table had turned around. Damn, I was really going to enjoy this.

I knew all too well what it meant to sort things out and I might start to think him less of a jerk if he was going to really take those steps. It wasn't going to be easy for Seryozha, but he had to work it out alone; I mean, he already got freaking lucky for having attracted the attention of a girl like Viola. Right...like I had been damn lucky for having found a man like Oleg. I wasn't so sure if I'd be like this right now if he weren't around me, or watching out for me. Oh crap, every morning I woke up almost afraid something would actually snap me back to reality, for I still couldn't get over the fact that we both talked to my parents and that they actually accepted it. But this was my reality and Oleg had told me to spend the weekend with him. He said he was my partner.

Fuck me...he was my partner for freaking real.

The need to see him and to talk to him kicked my mind and blood. I levelled a quiet gulp of air out of my nose.

I stretched long on the chair, closing my eyes in the intent to calm down. The idea of spending the weekend with him gave me quite the hard-on and at the same time freaked me out. Yeah, it pretty much freaked out, but I decided to not think about it, because truth been told, I couldn't wait for that. I would have the real, damn out-of-annoying-duties, and unleashed Oleg only for me. Blood pumped faster and of course excitement only increased instead of cooling down. A groan of exasperation for my being idiotic left my mouth and Adrian shot me a mischievous grin: he told me that he couldn't guess who was going to be more dangerous once let loose of our restraints. I grunted that Oleg probably would be quite the beast, but Adrian suggested that I sure was not far from being similar to him.

He might have a point.

Well, sure as hell I wasn't a very obliging one in terms of sex, but that huge and hot bastard? I doubted he was any different than I was in that department. I shook my head: we sure were quite the match and Oleg actually had a touch of kindness that always left me wanting for more. Fuck, the idea of another man knowing how he actually was in bed shot my temper on a very high rampant, but then I took a long breath and calmed down. Whoever those idiots were, well, they knew fucking nothing about Oleg. Pretty much same crap for me. Vince hadn't known shit about me under many points, even if he hadn't been a real asshole. Yeah...I had to cool it down. It was in our past and none of us had really actually exposed himself in the way we did with each other.

We spoke to each other in the usual way during these days, whenever I met him by chance in the morning or in the evening: short words, usual curt tone and his duty-like attitude. It didn't bother me anymore, because I knew this would never change about him when around my parents and I fucking liked him even more because of this. He was a private person and so was I. Last morning, as we met in the kitchen and nobody was around, he quickly smiled at me and complimented me for having received the highest score for that paper I wrote about Capote. At first I didn't know what to say, but as soon as my brain elaborated something, my mum stepped in the kitchen and she looked at us trying not to smile too obviously. I pretty much beat it by munching out a "gotta go to school".

I was still too freaked by everything and it would take me time to normally act around my family with Oleg around. Dima had no barriers when it came to Jasper and honestly, the chipmunk deserved kudos for having to put up with his bluntness, especially when my twin gave air to his moronic mouth in front of our parents. My father had obviously given up and my mum pretty much enjoyed it; as dad said, she was special. When I told her that I was going to take care of my tattoos, she asked me whether I would get a new one; at first it surprised me, but then I told her that yes, I wanted a new one and we began looking at tattoos pictures right during breakfast. No wonder though: dad had a rather big tattoo on his back, which he had done when he was around my age back in Russia, actually Soviet Union.

Right before going home, Seryozha approached Adrian and me, trying to sound less asshole-like, but it was quite the effort for him.

"Denisov, do you think your parents would have time to see me next week?" I arched my brows at his question. The hell was that?

"What? You want to ask for my hand? Sorry Seryozha, I got a man already," I smirked at him and he grunted some nice words in Russian directed to my sarcasm.

"You are such an ass, Tolya," he mocked my name but I shrugged, simply staring at him, wanting to hear what the heck he wanted. He looked like lost in some internal debate and for a moment I thought his mind might change, but once more I noticed that he pushed his shoulders back and his eyes set unwavering on mine. "No, not asking for your hand. I just want to talk to your parents about something and," he turned toward Adrian that only observed him with a vague amused expression, "and I want to talk to your parents, too. Is that OK for you?"

"Yes Sergey, you can call them whenever you are ready for it and I am sure they will be delighted to hear from you." Each word oozed of subtle taunting and the idiot got it, considering he only nodded.

So that's what he had elaborated in these days. Not bad I must say; he must really be lost for his fairy princess and he must have realised that he could only behave in a certain way to properly deserve her.

"Is that cool with you, Denisov?" The sneer was always there whenever he looked at me and I just answered in kind.

"Oh I'm sure my parents will love to hear you out, especially Oleg, dad's assistant." As I mentioned his name, I smirked and almost laughed my ass off at seeing how he grew pale. He swallowed down and nodded, knowing it could not be avoided. Fuck, it was quite hot to witness how that freaking hot bastard had quite the power the scare shitless pretty much everyone. And this man was now mine? Argh...I couldn't wait to be alone with him. However, I cooled it down and stared down at Sergey. There was something I had to make sure of. "Is this your father's orders?" Yeah, I was being an ass just as he said, but Viola had become a special friend for me. When I saw her crying the day she told me about that other dumbass, I realised that she was my special and freakish fairy.

"No, my father has nothing to do with this, got it?" He sort of snarled out annoyed and my eyes caught sight of Adrian quietly chuckling.

"Very good then, Sergey. I'll be looking forward to meeting you together with my parents," Adrian said with an unreadable smile and Seryozha passed from pale to green.

Growing a pair and strengthening your backbone was never easy, but I had to give him credit for wanting to be that straightforward. As we walked away, going in opposite directions, I told him a few words quietly.

"Good one, Seryozha. She deserves that."

He stopped and casted me a look I had never seen on his face.

"I know, but it's not just that." I understood what he meant and he saw that, because we exchanged a nod and then went off our own ways. Those were probably the most civil words we had exchanged in months.

In the evening I met Oleg, who had stopped by to collect some of his belongings. My parents accepted his request to spend more time at his place whenever my father did not necessitate his assistance and I began to think it was the best choice; if he stayed more at his place, I could bother him there and when alone, we would talk normally. There was so much I wanted to do with him and my brain was about to let out smoke for how much it concentrated on it.

Oleg explained me, while we stopped in the family living room that was empty, that he had to assist my father in something in the morning, hence he asked if I could get to his place before lunch time. That had been good actually, because I was going to need to hit the gym in the morning, since I was damn too eager and my temper wasn't something to overlook or ignore. After answering him that I had no problems whatsoever, he leaned down closer to me. I was sitting on the armrest of the sofa and he stood in front of me, and my mouth dried up at the sight of his eyes. Oh God I loved this man and I wanted this man like fucking crazy.

"It will not take long in the morning, Anatoly. We simply need to make sure about something."

"Yeah I don't mind it. I'll go to the gym with Derek and Dima." I stared back at him and got on my feet. "You were right in wanting to talk to my parents." He smiled at my words and his hand rested on the side of my face.

"There was no other option," he said and his eyes made my blood boil. The small distance between us disappeared, and I let my arms slip around his powerful back, my fingers snatching the fabric of his jacket. "Do you have any wish for tomorrow? Would you like to do anything in particular?"

"No, I just want to spend time with you," I admitted and I felt his hands on my back, for then seeing a rather dark smirk forming on his lips.

"You are becoming more and more strong, Anatoly. I can feel that your muscles are growing and I can see it," he told me with calm voice, never really letting go of his entire emotions. But I didn't mind that anymore. I knew how this hot bastard actually was. He pressed me against his hard body and we had no doubts on how we both physically felt.

"Do you mind it?" I challenged him and for a moment we just looked at each other like two predators. His hands slowly travelled down and I almost groaned out as they leisurely moved on my ass, for then stopping right below it, grabbing my thighs and pulling me more against his body. The muscles under my jeans tensed at his touch and he felt that, clearing enjoying it. My hands followed their own path finding his ass and oh God...the way he pierced my eyes and the way he let his lips smirk.

"No, I do not mind it, Anatoly. In fact, I do like it," he replied sounding perfectly controlled and levelled, while his look told me something different. The entire room felt like suffocating me as I stared at his lips, as then I let my nose slowly run on his exposed neck, finding arousing the fact he was formally dressed with shirt, tie, black suit jacket...I think he repressed a groan and then the intensity of his eyes somehow pulled me back to my senses. "I see you do understand why I took the decision of spending more time at my place, correct?" I nodded only. He released me and I did the same, understanding what he meant. Then, that gentle and fucking heart-warming smile punched the air out of my lungs. "I also simply want to spend time with you, Anatoly."

I never noticed before, but whenever he pronounced my name, it sounded different than the way other people said it. It felt like it was attached to some inner strings and the way he said it would affect one or another string, pulling on my most private emotions. Well, fuck me, I didn't care any longer to completely bare myself in front of this man. My hands went to rest on the sides of his face, feeling his neatly shaved stubble against my skin; our foreheads touched and I closed my eyes a moment, savouring the contact. He touched one of my hands and our fingers entwined. I could really be like this with him...with the man I loved and Oleg seemed to reciprocate my feelings. In these days I hadn't missed how he softened his usually hard and severe stare when looking at me.

I really could be with him...without having to worry about fucking anything. My eyes kept close and a sigh that enclosed many different emotions left my mouth. One year ago I was almost fucked up, swearing at this man for always being on my case and I was sure that I'd soon need to leave my family, everything...and now...now I could freely touch and be with the person I loved. No more freaking limits, no more demons tormenting me, no more moronic fears or barriers or whatever the hell kept me strapped months ago.

"I know how you feel and what you are thinking about right now, Anatoly." Somehow that didn't surprise me at all. He moved back to better look at me, but kept our fingers locked together, while his other hand caressed my cheekbone with the knuckles. "I do know how you feel, because it is what I feel and what I have been thinking about the entire week," he confessed and I think I almost choked on my air, but then I smiled. It was hard to believe that on this world another person that understood me better than Oleg could possibly exist. Scratch that: nobody understood me better than Oleg. "I need to prepare things for tomorrow morning, therefore I will go now."

"Yeah, right, I'll also go."

Dima wanted to play "The Witcher" and on the other hand, I wanted to read the books that inspired the game, but it was always funny to play with my brother. And even more funny to kick his ass at that. I think Derek and Hayden were going to join us. Sasha had flown to London to surprise his crazy half, while River had a date with the chipmunk's brother. I saw that guy and no wonder my friend liked him. But Sasha and I understood that he was still pulling back, but we didn't understand why he still did that. Well, he had his own things and I still had to talk to him, since none of us had time this week; we planned it for next one and there was no denying on how lamely nervous I felt. Pretty much moronic, because River had probably guessed most of it. In terms of analysing and shit like that, he could shake hands with Oleg.

"I'll play something with Dima and our friends," he smiled at those last words and then walked to the door of the room, stopping there a moment.

"Spakoynee nochi, Anatoly," he told me and I also wished him a good and peaceful night.

-THE FOLLOWING DAY, SATURDAY-

Derek pulled his car right in front of our house and he switched the engine off for a moment. I definitely needed to get a damn car and since my dad planned to change his, I could ask him whether he would want to leave his black BMW to me. I wasn't exactly crazy about such big cars and SUVs in general, but for now, if he agreed, that would do. My babe was amazing and darn exciting, but it wasn't always practical to ride it every day and in every occasion; a car sometimes was more handy.

"Dude, you are starting to weight lift like that horny beast of Alex," my friend grinned, shaking his head.

"I doubt that, because the Mighty Sasha isn't exactly normal." Last time we went to the gym together I couldn't believe at the amount of weight he was able to lift. Well, Oleg was another nut case in terms of that, but he wasn't exactly an ordinary human being. "But Hayden is another one quite fixated with that, right?"

"Yeah, crazy hockey beasts, I'm telling you." He laughed out loud and went to change CD, opting for Rihanna. I rolled my eyes, because he began to sing, and for a moment I wished to flip the CD out of the car. He chuckled at my face and turned the volume lower. "Too bad Dima couldn't join us today, but he has a game in the afternoon."

Yeah, indeed, and I promised him to go watch the following one. Today I had something else to do. He obviously didn't miss the chance to be his usual dofus self. I quickly glanced at Derek, now relaxed on his seat and listening to the music.

"Listen Dee, I know that we haven't talked yet about what happened with me and...." he interrupted me immediately.

"Hey man, I don't care. I mean, if you want to tell me, I'd be happy and I'll listen to you. If you don't feel comfortable enough, it's still cool. Listen, I care that we are back the way we used to be and that's more than enough for me. I know that some shit hit you pretty bad in the past. Alex didn't say a word of course, but the fact that you talked to him made me think that something must have really happened to you and I'm sorry about that. Just don't pull back anymore, OK? We're friends Tolya and if my girlfriend will once more threaten to break up with me, I'll cry on your shoulder," he grinned widely and his black eyes gleamed of that cheerful light.

"You'll sure need that, because your girlfriend clearly bosses you around. I mean, Dima is completely whipped by his chipmunk," he burst out laughing as I said that, "but it's not like Jasper is exactly bossing him around, while Shenice...she's giving you tough times," I smirked, crossing my arms in front of me. Derek nodded, but then shrugged, as to say that at the moment there wasn't much he could do. Afterwards his first words came back to me and I dropped my smug expression. "Thanks Dee," I quietly muttered out. "I know you don't need to hear that, but I need to tell you. It feels fair to me and I want to do it."

"So any time you feel like talking, OK Tolya?" He winked at me and then his eyes switched on his clown-mood. "So, going for a date this afternoon?"

For a moment I pictured him, River and then probably Dima annoying the Mighty Sasha when he first discovered his attraction for Travis. I felt bad for my friend, because River and Derek together, in two completely different and opposite ways, could really send your patience and sanity to the other world. That's when I caught my clue to drag my ass out of here.

"I'll see you next week," I said as I stepped out of the car and he began to laugh even more.

"I almost forgot you've a short fuse almost like Alex and that you are actually shy: quite cute," he joked and I slammed the door close, flipping him off. How mature was that? I just proved his words.

Derek started the engine while still shaking with laughter and, before driving away, he beamed at me and waved his hand. I waved back and snorted out. Yeah, they had definitely driven Sasha on the verge of wanting to punch them.

I had dropped my gym bag and sweaty clothes in the laundry, as mum always told us to do. God forbids having dirty and stinky clothes in our bedrooms: she would kick our ass for that. I checked the time and nervously ran a hand in my Mohawk; it was about thirty minutes past eleven, as luckily Derek had agreed on going to train early. Sweating and training sure helped me in smothering my edginess, but as I felt my heartbeat racing rather fast, I knew that the only way to calm down was to see Oleg.

I threw some spare clothes in a small backpack and wore some light blue jeans that for once weren't slashed on my knees, a simple Affliction white t-shirt that since last month had become quite too tight on me and a black sweater that also did cling on me a bit too tightly. No wonder, fucktard: you had gained muscles in the gym training with those fanatics. Whatever, as long as I didn't look too gay or idiotic. Dima fussed more about clothes than I did and that's why I often made fun of him. I grabbed my motorbike leather jacket and the helmet and marched down the stairs. My parents walked out of the kitchen and I could see mum holding a large bouquet of roses and a wide, radiant smile on her face. Right, dad always made sure of never neglecting the romanticism she obviously loved. How come my brother turned out so cheesy with his boyfriend?

"Tolya sweetheart, are you leaving?" She asked and I just nodded.

I had asked them about this weekend and they agreed without many issues; then I remembered that my parents were pretty open-minded when it came to this, given how they never minded the chipmunk spending the night over our place. Dad said we were both two men and we were mature enough to understand how to be responsible, which meant we had to behave. It was surprising how he could now trust me this much, after what happened, but all in all it wasn't that surprising, knowing my father. He was aware that I had learnt my lesson and indeed I had.

"Have good time, Tolya," she said, while my father simply looked at me, and I muttered out something as I left.

While I raced on my beauty to his place, the excitement increased and I laughed like a maniac as I bent down with my babe, scraping the asphalt with my knee, scaring the shit out of a driver that blew the car-horn at me. I simply sped up more, making my Ninja powerfully roar and soon enough, it reached Oleg's place. Fuuuck...I couldn't wait to see him, so my feet walked faster to the door and it actually opened before I could ring the door bell. Freaking eerie bastard and he called himself a normal human being? My sarcastic comment died on my tongue as my eyes took in his view: like me he wore a simple pair of jeans that clung on his muscles in the right way to spike my desire on higher levels, and then an Army green t-shirt that had the same mental effect on me, because it exposed his inks and stretched tight on the hardness of his huge arms. I tried not to stare, but I miserably failed at that.

"I heard the roar of your Ninja," he said as greeting, while he moved to the side to let me in.

"And you keep calling yourself a normal human being?" I said, clearly revealing the way I felt with my voice. He smirked at me and I wanted to call him "annoying bastard", but another thought hit me.

A week had freaking passed since that first damn kiss. The first and only actual, deep, and fucking exciting kiss. Yeah, we exchanged some moments last night and on Monday, but nothing that could have remotely sedated my burning desire and need to be closer to him. He caught something in my eyes, because he slowly closed the door behind him and went to touch me. But I acted faster.

Oleg had initiated our first kiss last Saturday. Well fuck me: I was going to fucking get my second kiss with this hot bastard here.

My hands moved on his face and I connected my lips before he could do or say anything. I pushed him against the door and after a few seconds that our lips had connected and savoured each other's harshness and rough demands, our tongues touched and tangled, hungry for more, wanting to push harder and deeper in each other's mouth. My body thrust against his one and we both were hard in no time; I think I almost lost it as I felt him kissing me deeper, letting go of a rather feral and guttural growl, as his hands grabbed my ass in a rather demanding way that fucking excited me like crazy. I pulled his mouth more on mine and then my hands slid on his arms, tasting the muscles that flexed under my touch, feeling his hot skin; my nails dug into his flesh and he hauled me harder on him.

I pressed him harder on the door and feeling his sturdy presence on me sent my entire body and mind to shattering ecstasy. My heart raced faster and faster prey of my adrenaline, once more threatening to slash my throat. Our lips were sealed in a freaking hot dance and we both growled our desire out. His mouth felt rough as it took mine more and more intensely, more and more deeply. And I loved that. I pushed more on him and he seized my ass even more ravenously, making me so hard that for a moment I thought I might lose my sanity.

Fuck...he was so hard and so was I.

My hands travelled to his back and soon took hold of his incredibly hard and muscular ass. For too long I had craved to feel it in my hands and fuck me, Oleg indeed was made of steel-made muscles. I growled in his mouth when his tongue momentarily dominated mine, pushing the kiss deeper and making it wilder. My blood was pulsing so fast that my heart raced in frenzy, just like my mind that had gone completely blank. I could think of nothing, feel nothing, aside the fact that we were touching and sharing a mind shredding kiss. Oleg was driving me insane in the way he was taking my mouth and I couldn't help groaning out of wild pleasure; we were only kissing. I had no idea how something more than this could drive us. I shivered in pure and primal pleasure at the mere thought of it.

Oleg broke the kiss a moment and stared at me as if wanting to possess my entire soul. His dark eyes pierced mine with such intensity that my breath became rougher, just like his. He said nothing, simply kept looking at me, for then letting his lips damn slowly slide on the feverish skin of my neck; he was smirking, the bastard, because he could feel my pretty insane heartbeat pulsating in my neck. His lips travelled it so damn slowly that I knew he was doing it on some sadistic purpose. Then he spoke and his breath, warm and rough on my skin, made me almost lose it.

"To think that now I do not need to hold on any sort of restraint," he said with a deep and primal tone of voice.

I inhaled sharply, trying to calm down a moment, because his voice and words had kicked start my lust so much that it almost blinded and deafened me. I didn't realise he had moved his hands on mine and, in a rather quick and rough move, I found myself pinned against the door, his entire body now pushed down on me. My eyes challenged his as I was breathing deeper, almost shivering in desire. Having this huge and solid man pressing against me, making me taste the hardness of his muscles and of his dick was a complete turn on for me. It always had been and I was pretty sure he hadn't missed that detail.

"Without any fucking restraint or limit, Oleg?" I asked, never stopping to stare straight into his eyes, my wrists now pressed against the door by the grip of his callous hands. Fuck, I really was going to get the real and unleashed Oleg and there was nothing else I wanted more.

"Yes, Anatoly," he replied, tightening the grip on me. "I believe we reached a point where we do not need to restrain or limit ourselves anymore. Or would you prefer differently?" He smirked darkly and continued talking. "I want you without any control, Anatoly, and I am not solely referring to the physical and sexual side. I want the raw, temperamental and true Anatoly." I understood what he meant completely, for I desired the same.

After those words, he took my mouth for another sanity-shredding kiss, and it deepened, our desire fusing together, like our emotions, until it slowly grew less wild but more intense and gentle, touching completely different emotions. It felt like a silent and physical declaration of our feelings. I loved this...I loved his gentle and tender side as much as I loved his rather scary feral side. He let go of my wrists and locked his fingers in my hair, moving his lips on mine, our tongue tangling together and fusing in the slowness and ecstasy of the kiss. His hands then moved from my hair and searched for my hands, our fingers immediately intertwining together in a strong grip. I wanted to feel him closer and closer to me, and he wanted the same. We both pulled back and my head leaned on the door.

"I want the same, Oleg." He got what I meant at first and he nodded, then softly pecking my lips and my jaw. My eyes closed and I felt in some damn blissful daze. After that I opened my eyes and gently brushed his mouth with mine.

We really were together and sharing such intimacy, this way of touching, these emotions. I could really love and be with Oleg.

We smiled at each other and he pulled back, allowing me to remove my jacket. The helmet had long fallen on the floor along with my backpack, before attacking Oleg, and so I retrieved them and placed the helmet on a shelf right there in the small hall. He went to walk to the living room and I followed him, while we talked about my gym session with Derek and what happened in school yesterday with Sergey. He didn't look very surprised by that, saying it was the most basic action he had to take in order to make things remotely even, in order to gain some pride and acceptable honour. Oleg walked to the kitchen and then remembered my bag.

"You can leave it in my bedroom and if you prefer, you can leave the clothes here," he explained and I didn't immediately caught the meaning of his words. He saw that and thus he made himself clear. "You can leave clothes at my place, if you wish Anatoly."

OLEG POV:

"You can leave it in my bedroom and if you prefer, you can leave the clothes here," I told him as we reached the kitchen. I had prepared lunch earlier, for I preferred a more domestic and quiet atmosphere, and because I took pleasure in preparing food for Anatoly. He looked at me arching one brow, clearly not understanding the meaning behind my words. Therefore I explained them so that he would have no doubts. "You can leave clothes at my place, if you wish Anatoly." His eyes widened and he almost stumbled.

"What?"

"I will be spending my free time here and I will be coming back here every evening, unless your father requires my assistance for outside town businesses. Anatoly, you perfectly know that you can come here whenever you wish for. Leaving some clothes here is practical," I explained in a matter of fact tone, turning to stare right at him. "I do not say you must do it, Anatoly. I said that you can do it if you want to."

"Yeah well, it just surprised me and fuck yeah, can I really leave some stuff here?" He had a rather child-like and shy smile on his face and it was quite the contrast with his general features. Yet, it perfectly belonged to his rather explosive but surprisingly shy personality. I nodded my reply and he smiled somehow wider. "Spasiba, Oleg."

I remembered what was in my pocket and I tossed it at him. He caught it and for a moment I worried about his being completely silence and quiet for many seconds. Then his eyes slowly moved up and locked with mine; it was hard to divide and investigate all the emotions showing on his face.

"You are giving me the keys of your place?"

"It is a spare copy of them, because you might need keys for this place. If you want to stay here sometimes even when I am not around, you are welcome to do so. You know I do not mind you spending time here and you can do that any time."

He had told me countless times how he felt in my place and in my quarters at the Denisov's residence; for long I had debated whether it was wise to give him a copy of the keys of my house, but after having discussed the whole situation with his parents, I viewed no more problems in that. It looked like the most obvious and practical thing to do; it also was a way to give him the final reassurance he needed. I liked having Anatoly around me and it always brought me a difficult to explain sense of warmth and peace. Even with his easy outburst of temper, for I became accustomed to it.

His hand closed tightly around the set of keys and I could see he had taken a deep breath. In one stride he was right in front of me and his lips met mine a in a rather rough, but somehow shy kiss. My arms circled his body and I lingered in the feeling of having him there in my arms. What I told him last night was true: Anatoly had grown in these months, developing his muscles that obviously became more defined, strong and visible. The fact he now had a healthy and regular lifestyle decisively impacted that. We only kissed letting our lips connect and demand more of each other, drawing him closer to me. He then pulled back from my mouth and searched in my eyes for something.

"What is it, Anatoly?" I asked him, however guessing what went through his mind.

"You really meant what you said? Can I really...I mean, come here whenever I want? I won't bother you," he said with tensed voice and I felt like smiling. Brat.

"You never bother me, Anatoly. You only pull on my patience very easily with your temper, but yes, you can come here whenever you want. I already said this several times," I confirmed with authoritative and firm voice, the only way to make him completely comprehend and accept my words.

"I don't know what to say."

"You do not need to say anything, Anatoly. Only tell me if that somehow bothers you or not, because I do not wish to force you spending time here; I only want you to feel free to stay whenever you wish for it. Clear now?" He rolled his eyes and grunted something, but then hugged me tightly and being able to reciprocate every single gesture of affection and to act according to my emotions and feelings was still a fact that I could not properly explain. I caressed his hair, noticing how he had shaved it in the usual way on the sides of his head and kept it longer on the top. But he had changed the style of the Mohawk, keeping his hair longer than before and I wondered what he planned to do with that. "Have you eaten after training?" I asked still letting my fingers stroke his hair.

"No, I actually forgot," he admitted and I softly chuckled.

When he arrived here, Anatoly was evidently nervous and on some edge; the way he kissed me proved it even more, because there was a touch of aggressiveness that for sure I did not mind. It actually felt very exciting. I understood why he was in such state and, even if I was not nervous, it was true we both came from a difficult situation, where we had both momentarily thought such attachment was not possible, and suddenly we were allowed to love each other. I comprehended his nervousness very well. We had always acted around each other aware of the roles we had, aware of the limits, even if we slowly eroded them; yet, we were not endorsed to linger on our feelings. And then the limits shredded more that night and we both understood that we could not continue on the same path. I would never be able to thank the Denisov enough.

"What are you thinking about, Oleg?" He asked me all of a sudden. "You were looking at me as if drilling holes in my brain, so I guess you were thinking about something damn serious."

"I was thinking that I am extremely grateful for the honour your parents granted me. Thinking me a fitting partner for you, Anatoly, is something that I will never be able to repay properly." I had not said this to him directly yet, because we had not the chance during the week. Those words needed the right tranquillity and privacy. "Anatoly, I also consider myself extremely blessed for being able to be with you, to have you as my partner."

"I like you saying that," he rushed out, for then moving his gaze away out of pure shyness. "I swear, I hate being mushy, so...I'll say it once and that's it: I fucking like that we are together and that you really consider a brat like me your partner."

I gave his lips a very soft but lingering peck, slightly chuckling.

"You are not a brat like before anymore," I said and he immediately changed his mood, his temper flaring at my evident intent to tease him and make him feel more at ease.

"What do you mean?" He grunted out.

"That are you still a brat in some ways," I answered with a smirk that I knew had quite the impact on him. He went to counter debate, but somehow he let it go.

"Well you are still an annoying bastard," however he fired out after a few seconds and I pretended to not listen to him, going to check what had been prepared early in the morning, before meeting with Mr. Denisov. "Hey, you hear me?"

"I told you countless times, Anatoly: my ears work perfectly well." He snorted something and then walked beside me. "Are you hungry? You must be if you trained and then you forgot to eat."

"Oh shit right, I am actually about to die of starvation. But wait, you cooked?" I nodded. "You could have simply ordered something, really."

"I do not mind to prepare some food and I never had the chance to cook for anybody else than myself." His mouth opened in what probably was going to be a quick retort, but it closed and he finally understood me. "Get the plates and cutlery on the table," I ordered and he followed my instruction.

After lunch we simply sat in the living room talking, because Anatoly had many questions about my past life, in particular when I served my Motherland; he asked me about the particular mission that cost me the scars on my back and arm, and I explained what I could, not wanting to enter into details about how they tried to break my mind by torturing me. It had not worked with me, for the simple reason that I was already aware of the risks being part of the GRU involved and my mind accepted them. However, Anatoly insisted to know more and I debated whether to unravel more ruthless details. I told him and he listened to me with a tense and pale expression, clenching and unclenching his fists. Then he shot on his feet and walked around the living room a moment to clearly calm down his temper.

"I can't believe that something like that actually happened to you and that you never considered leaving your unit," he hissed as he ran a hand on his hair.

"Why would I want to leave my unit? I wanted to serve my Motherland, Anatoly, and it has always been a great honour for me. If that were the costs of it, I was more than prepared to shoulder them." He visibly swallowed and sat beside me, looking at the two pictures on the fireplace mantel shelf.

"Do you have more pictures of your family?"

"No, I have none." Anatoly stretched long on the couch and then rested his head on my thighs, his legs hanging out from the armrest, for then directly staring at me.

"Do you like to read?"

I smiled at his question, because he formulated it in the intention to change subject after hearing I carried no pictures of my family. It was natural for me, because I preferred to leave everything that happened behind me and because, the only person left of my family, my brother, had not talked to me since then. It felt fair on my side to not hold on their pictures, given I had almost killed our father. My grandmother was the only exception, because she was the person that had taught me many important things, the one that had taught me to always behave true to my principles and sense of honour.

"I did not mind your question, Anatoly. I keep a picture of my grandmother only because she had been a very important person in my life, she taught me a lot," I explained him and he nodded.

"What was her name?" I was happy that he finally felt entirely at ease to ask me whatever crossed his mind.

"Her name was Lyudmila."

"She looks very proud of you in that picture," he quietly commented, as his eyes looked at the photo frame. Yes, I believe my grandmother felt proud of me in that moment and I wondered several times what she would have said to me after what I did, but the thought remained hidden in my mind; yet, Anatoly surprised me with his following words. "Stop thinking about what you did, Oleg. She would have still been proud of you, because Oleg, you are you and there is no changing that." I said nothing to those words that wrapped around my mind and heart, bringing complete peace in my thoughts.

We kept a moment in silence, simply relishing in each other's presence and this very peaceful closeness. Then I studied his face a moment, concentrating on the scar he had on his lip and on his brow after what happened in May; finding the whereabouts of that Vincent Dalton had not been an effort, but rather simple, and in a few days I planned to have a discussion with that individual. It was only fair to inform Anatoly about this because there were no doubts he was not going to appreciate it.

"Next week I plan to meet and discuss with Vincent Dalton," I said directly and, as expected, he reacted at those words by suddenly getting up and planting rather burning eyes on me. I kept on the couch and levelled my hard stare on him. "I want to understand this situation better, Anatoly, and you know I will do that even if you do not like the idea."

"What the fuck? Why do you have to do that?" He barked and I let him vent out his momentary anger. He was too used to shoulder everything alone, so this outburst did not surprise me at all.

"I told you why I necessitate to meet him. I can make people talk without much effort and I will not sit and wait for that worthless piece of human garbage to come after you. I had not forgotten what happened in May, when they made you pay for leaving the gang, and I will get even with him," I told him with final and strict tone.

"Are you out of your mind? What if they come after you, what if they do anything to you?" So that was the deal. I sighed and he misunderstood me. "I know I run your patience off very easily, but this is out of question, you bastard. And you have no patience at all."

"I am the one without patience, Anatoly?" I remarked and his eyes widened more as clearly his temper was increasing. I did like his temperamental side, as long as he was able to control it in given situation to avoid getting caught into problems or dangerous situations.

"Yeah, you're a fucking annoying bastard without patience and you fucking know it. I can take care of this, I'm not that much of an immature brat," he groaned out and I shook my head. We needed more time to entirely learn everything about each other; Anatoly had to accept the fact that my nature and attachment for him would not allow me to let him handle everything alone.

"It is not about you not being capable of handing this situation. It is about the fact that I want to gather more information and be prepared. I gave you my word to be right beside you whenever you need me, did you forget?" My words seemed to finally cool him down, as he relaxed his posture. "You said that you want to rely on me, therefore do rely on me. I will talk to Vincent Dalton and I will see in this matter. I do not think you cannot handle it, understood?"

He took a deep breath and massaged his temples, as he casted his eyes away from me. I was aware that it was not effortless for Anatoly to completely rely on me, because he felt responsible and because he also wanted to be the one I could rely on. But right then, he had to place his complete trust in my hands. He took a couple of steps right there in front of me, letting out rather annoyed, short breaths, but it seemed that he was slowly understanding me. I let him sort it out a moment on his own and then I stood on my feet, taking hold of his face and letting my thumb touch his lips.

"Did you understand what I said?" The tone of my voice could not be mistaken and he waited a moment before giving me a reply.

"Yeah, I got it, I freaking got it," he snorted out. "I'm just not used to this and I really don't want to involve you. After that fucking night, when that piece of shit pointed a gun at you, I swear, I...I felt like killing him."

"Look at me, Anatoly." He kept staring at the ground. He could be terribly stubborn and obstinate sometimes. "Anatoly, I said look at me." His eyes finally snapped back at me and I knew the light burning in them all too well. "I completely understand how you feel now and how you felt that night. It took all the rationality I had honed in these years to not shoot that rat right then, especially after he had dared to point that gun at you. Anatoly we are together and I am automatically involved in your issues, because it is impossible for me to let you face such problems alone. It does not belong to me, to the man I am. It is not a matter of duties; it is a matter of how I feel for you. Do you understand me?" He nodded. I softened my tone and gaze as I continued talking. "If I will ever need it, I will rely on you, Anatoly. Do not worry about this. Understood?" He shot his smouldering and determinate eyes on me and I knew he had comprehended what I meant.

"That jerk will probably try to get on your nerves by saying some bullshit," he said, looking away. So this was another deal: he was afraid that Vincent Dalton might say something that would unsettle me. This was simply impossible; I knew how to read into words and we had always been completely open and honest with each other.

"I do not care about what he might say." I pulled Anatoly tight and firm in my arms and made sure my words went inside his thick and stubborn head. "I told you already: it is in our past and he can say whatever he wishes to. I am your partner, Anatoly." And with those words the discussion was over. It became evident to me that between us it was going to be about gaining and conceding, given our personalities and rather strong heads. His earlier question came back to my mind. "Yes, I do like to read, but mostly I concentrate on academic journals about geopolitics, international relations and international economics."

"Of course someone like you has to read such heavy stuff," he joked. "Have you ever read a normal book?"

"Yes," I simply said and he snorted that I was a "cryptic bastard". "Let's go for a ride, I like this weather." Outside the light had faded away and a strong, cold wind had never ceased to blow for the entire day, leaving the sky clear. His eyes brightened up already savouring the excitement of the race and we looked at each other like two starved beasts, feeling the adrenaline already coursing in our blood.

"I'll kick your ass, this time."

"We will see that."

We raced and indeed two times it proved to be hard to catch up with Anatoly, dangerously sliding the asphalt with his knees whenever he bent and pulling his Kawasaki Ninja up at the very last moment, taking over me two times. He had real, raw talent and it was something that should not be overlooked; it was my intention to discuss it with him and his parents. I took great pleasure in leaving him behind, knowing he was probably groaning upset under his helmet. Anatoly and I were very similar and it was there out and clear in the way we enjoyed riding our motorbikes, trying to always best each other. However, Anatoly had an innate gift in being able to push the motorbike to its limits, feeling the right moment to shift or turn, biting precious inches of the asphalt. When he raced in front of me, desire and pride blended in me and fuelled my blood; seeing him on a motorbike was a rather exciting view under many respects, moving from a purely physical aspect to a more deep, emotional level.

As we stopped a moment to rest, I checked the time and suggested we could eat something outside. A break was needed and the temperature had considerably dropped. Anatoly chose the place and we enjoyed a quiet dinner, simply talking about anything we felt like discussing. I asked him whether he had plans for college, for I already suspected what his choice might be and my guess had been correct.

"I have not talked about this with my parents, yet," he said after taking a sip from his soda. "I would like to study literature." His eyes moved from my face and stared somewhere else, while distractively he forked the food in the plate.

"I thought you might choose that field," I admitted and his eyes turned back at me with a taken aback expression that made me smile. "I had observed you in these past months, whenever you read a book around me. You do not just read the book, but actually ponder over the words on the pages and I had not missed how sometimes, if you have a pen, you write something on the side of the pages, probably notes or your thoughts. Am I right, Anatoly?"

He said nothing to that at first and then he also smiled.

"Gee, remind me to never try to hide anything from you," he joked.

"You should discuss it with Mr. and Mrs. Denisov. I am sure they will appreciate your choice and support it. Also, I was considering that you have a rather impressive talent with bikes and it would not hurt to explore it on more professional levels. I am sure that your parents have nothing against this passion of yours and I believe my friend would be able to advise you on this matter."

"You really think this?" Adrenaline vibrated in his voice and glowed in his eyes.

"Why are you so surprised, Anatoly? I told you many times you have talent."

"Yeah, you said that before, but don't know, it sounds different now, I don't know why..." I linked my hand with his under the table, for none of us was fond of public displays of affection. Our intimacy and connection belonged to us only.

"You have many qualities and talents, Anatoly. Do not let them go to waste. Pursue the path you wish to follow without fears or doubts. I will always support you and so will your parents."

He seemed at a complete loss of words and the evident shyness in his eyes could not be easily concealed while he looked away trying to control his emotions. Then he appeared as if thinking about something and his eyes trailed back to me, assessing me with palpable intensity. It was like feeling his hands on me and we both felt the charged silence pressing on us, the room closing around us, everything disappearing from our peripheral view. The grip of our hands tightened as if silently communicating with that.

"Thank you, I'll try to pursue what I have always dreamed of. But Oleg," he clenched my hand stronger, as his eyes smouldered intensely, "But Oleg, you should do the same." This brat had been able to deeply read into me and it did not surprise me very much. I only inclined my head in reply to his words and after another silent moment between us, I spoke.

"Are you done with your dinner?" His plate was empty and so was mine. He nodded and we imperceptibly shifted closer to each other, letting my hand now move on his strong thigh, seeing him shortly breathing deeper, inching closer to me, feeling his muscles flexing under my touch. That consuming desire slowly travelled my veins and it seemed to combine with Anatoly's own desire, enhancing it and becoming aroused by it. "Let's leave this place."

After having reached my house, we parked the motorbikes in front of the garage I had built on the right side, to let the engines cool off. Our helmets were removed and in an instant we drew into each other's arms, sharing one breath in the cold and pungent air of late November, the wind caressing our skins. We kept silent and simply enjoyed the contact, the coldness of the weather that we both liked. For long time we had controlled the need to be close and intimate, believing the emotions and attachment impossible and misplaced under many circumstances. Anatoly time ago had asked me whether I still felt no need for proximity, for real physical intimacy and, each time I held him in my arms, each time I kissed him or simply touched him in the softest way, it felt as if I gave him an answer to that question, over and over. It was as if he also physically and emotionally wanted to convey similar thoughts.

We held each other, tenderly kissing on our lips, and Anatoly gazed at the sky, now dark and clouded. It was going to snow very soon because the clouds and the cold wind suggested that. In very rare moments, I felt as if the vast and beautiful Siberian land were a small missing part deeply buried in me, for I would always love my Motherland. The ruthless of the wind and of the long, icy winters always held an extraordinary fascination for me. I wondered if one day Anatoly would like to visit those lands with me. He shifted his eyes back to me.

"I know a spot far from the city where it's possible to really see the sky and the stars. I discovered it probably two years ago and I used to go there whenever..." he quietly swallowed and then gripped my leather jacket harsher, as if trying to remove some unpleasant memories. "Whenever I felt like shit, I went there alone and simply lay on the ground and thought about nothing. Sometimes it helped; sometimes it didn't. I want to go there with you, when it'll be clear and no clouds will cover the sky."

"I would like that, Anatoly." I smiled and remembered what I used to do when I was a little and defenceless brat in need of temporary peace. There was a hidden spot close to the river that bordered our village that I particularly liked. He nodded at me and then gave me quite the punkish smirk.

"So, I managed to kick your ass a couple of times tonight," he gloated by now crossing his arms in front of his chest.

"You did, brat, but I also very well remember that you had difficulties in cashing me after we left the restaurant and that I arrived here before you," I replied in kind. He grumbled under his breath and rolled his eyes.

"Whatever, I'm getting better and better at kicking ass."

"You certainly are," I admitted for his unmistakable satisfaction and then I realised the need to relax. "I need to take a shower after racing, do you mind? You can read on the couch or do as you please," I said as we walked inside the house, but he halted me by grabbing my forearm. He planted his eyes on me in a mute request and I understood what he was silently asking for; nonetheless, I liked to hear him voicing his requests and needs out. I liked when Anatoly was direct and self-confident. "What is it?" I asked leaning closer; my voice slightly let go of the usual even and levelled tone, slightly mirroring the way the idea made me feel. I pressed him against the wall with my body. "Tell me, Anatoly." He visibly swallowed down and I could not help the dark smirk.

"I want to shower with you," he said with thick and raw voice, feeling his hands now taking rather desire-filled hold of my sides, pushing his hardness on mine. We shared a look that made us once more understand we were two of a kind. I controlled the increasing desire, simply not wanting to shred his clothes there.

"I like when you openly ask for what you want, Anatoly," I replied, making him feel how he was affecting me. "For long I had wished to share such moment with you."

As I closed the door of the bathroom behind me, I removed my shirt and Anatoly's eyes never moved away from me. He also began to undress, by quickly taking away his sweater and tee shirt, revealing a very firm and muscular upper body; he had explained that he had searched for another tattoo to have on the right side of his torso and I could picture it there, wrapping around his muscles and warm, pulsing skin. None of us spoke as we undressed, as I walked to him and undid the belt of his jeans, Anatoly doing the same with me; we discarded every piece of clothes, savouring the feeling of our fingers touching and lingering on our pulsing skins.

I took a step back to appreciate the complete view of Anatoly entirely naked in front of me.

Feeling his body through layers of clothes was one experience. Seeing his naked body and the way his muscles shifted or contracted as we stared each other was a completely different other experience. His torso had grown and expanded with rather prominent and firm muscles, like his shoulders and arms, now flexing as we assessed one another in evident, palpable and undiluted desire and lust. The training he was following in the gym was shaping his abdomen with defined and developed lines of abdominals, slowly forming a v shape. Exactly like me, Anatoly was very hard and the view of his considerable arousal ignited my desire even more, enticing my mind and body to shatter every little limit that prevented me from acting out of very primal excitement and emotions. Anatoly saw that and took a step toward me, but I halted him.

"Let me look at you, Anatoly," I said with deep and quite asserting voice.

We had already somehow seen each other without clothes or in the motion of undressing, but always in a complete different circumstance and always aware of that line between us. The line had been deleted and slashed. Now I could savour the view of him fully and without imposing any sort of self-control or restraint, enhancing my need by letting my eyes slowly travel his entire powerful body, by feeling his eyes ranking my naked body in the same way.

This brat here had such a dangerous and devastating power on me, but he had not realised it yet.

He took a step to me and I let him, his stare burning on my heated skin, hardening me more; his hands reached for my biceps and his nails dug into my flesh, fuelling me even more. One hand ranked the lines of the inks on my torso, slowly trailing lower and lower, until it reached my hardness. My eyes closed as my head tipped back and a low, very feral growl escaped from my throat when I felt Anatoly's hand around my very hard member, slowly and ravenously sliding his grip on it; he also let out a rather feral sound and a moment after, our lips connected in a searing and very demanding kiss.

I pulled him completely pressed on me, his hand still closed on my hardness, tearing apart my last drops of rationality, and so one of my hands went to take firm, almost controlling hold of his bare ass, while the other caressed his erection, first slowly, enjoying the mere contact with his smooth and pulsing skin, feeling a dark smile rising on my lips as Anatoly's breathing increased and became more erratic, as his own grip strengthened because of the desire coursing in his blood. Then my hand wrapped around him in a more assertive and claiming way. I took his mouth for a deep and intense kiss, sinking my tongue deeper. Our stroking increased in intensity and want, but we both pulled back at the same time, his eyes wide in pure lust, my breathing raw and barely controlled. His fingers travelled my back, sending shivers down my feverish skin.

None of us wanted to finish this here in this way. We both wanted more, something more than mere physical release, something that would connect us on deeper physical and emotional levels.

"Oleg, you are so fucking hot and so damn steel-like...I think I'll lose my mind with you...when you fucking touch me," he was almost snarling the words out in uncontrolled desire and I felt it in me, completely slashing those last remaining threads of rationality.

"Do you want to know a secret, Anatoly?" I asked with low voice as my lips caressed his ear, feeling him shivering against my body. He nodded and hardened the grip on my back. "You have a very dangerous and impossibly overwhelming power on me. You pull at something deep in my heart, in my mind and deep in my desire that I cannot control. You can effortlessly tear my rationality and control in shreds." Anatoly took a deep breath and then rested his forehead on mine with his eyes closed.

"I think we are fucking even in this, believe me," he said with raw voice. "And I still want to fucking shower with you." I let out a rather dark and pleased chuckle, while my hands rested on the sides of his face.

"So do I, Anatoly."

I switched the water on and in short time it reached the right temperature; in the meantime we kept silently caressing each other's skin, smiling and stroking our lips very softly. Anatoly had a tender side that I discovered only in these days and it was an aspect of his complex personality that I treasured very dearly. We stepped in the shower and I tried without complete success to repress a low groan of pleasure as my eyes drank the view of water cascading and dripping on Anatoly's tantalizing body; it slipped on his muscles, as if drawing their arousing lines. He let out a quiet curse in Russian, as we always spoke our native language together, and he swallowed down when his gaze rested on me.

"Fuck Oleg, I had damn dreamt of sharing this with you since that freaking Saturday that I saw you here naked, when I saw those scars for the first time, but fuuuck me...this is almost intoxicating," he hissed out and he shook his head a moment, to brush the hair away from the forehead, for then simply flatten it back with his hand.

I believe that he was the one intoxicating and devastating, to be completely fair and honest. My hands went to claim him for myself as they grabbed his hips and pulled him pressed on me. Anatoly and I were free and allowed to love and cherish each other, in every possible and desirable way. I turned him facing the wall of the shower, feeling his back on my chest, while my hardness pressed on his enticing and perfect ass; he bent his head back with his lips slightly parted in a soundless snarl, while mine did susurrate in his ear as our flesh touched. My hands circled his defined torso, one setting rather primal around his waistline, hauling him firmer on me and on my arousal that increased considerably, making him release that lust-filled groan. Anatoly shot his hands back and they took strong hold of my lower back, driving me harder against him. His desire spoke to mine and lured it to completely unleash.

I did not venture my thoughts at how making love with Anatoly would drive me out of any possible rationality, at how it would connect us at a level that none of us had ever experienced, giving us the last step for completely baring ourselves to one another on every possible level.

I slowly followed the line of his shoulder with my mouth and nose, very leisurely drawing up to his neck, where my tongue now demanded to taste and touch Anatoly, to finally taste my forbidden and sweetest fruit. He strongly shuddered as my tongue marked his warm and water-dripping skin, and his hands released my lower back to firmly tangle in my hair, pulling it with what was consuming desire. I also felt it running into me and it tasted impossible to describe. I trailed back with my tongue reaching his shoulder and then the nape of his neck. Anatoly dropped his head in front of him completely, entirely offering me his exposed skin. My growl of ravenous pleasure vibrated on his flesh and he echoed it; one of my hands entwined with his just as the other made Anatoly turn his face slightly to me, so to first gently stroke his lips, for then taking them with devouring passion. Our tongues immediately mingled in the heat and ardour of the kiss, and Anatoly bit mine with a stirring note of exposed possessiveness. Then he sucked it impatiently and tore a powerful and wild growl of dark excitement out of my throat.

So he was a rather aggressive brat when blinded by desire...and I sure did not mind this side of him, for it perfectly reflected my own state of mind and emotions. As I already said: Anatoly and I were two of a kind.

Our bodies were pressed against each other and there was no mistake on how both we felt. We forgot about the water that kept cascading light on our heads and simply lost ourselves in the connection and intimacy we shared. My hands travelled on his torso and hauled Anatoly closer to me and my hardness as my mouth kept enjoying the skin of his neck and shoulders. I could hear his raw breathing and I could feel his body shifting under my touch; he suddenly turned and pulled my lips on his, now kissing me in a way that bared his emotions at me. He broke the contact and let one finger draw the hard lines of my face, following the scars on it, reaching for the tattoos on my neck.

"I want to touch you more, Oleg," he said almost growling, his tone of voice sounding almost commanding, clearly fuelled by his own state of excitement. "I want to fucking touch you more."

"Do it, Anatoly," I ordered back with a smirk that always triggered certain reactions from him. I could see something flashing in his eyes and he challenged me with an unyielding stare.

So he trailed my entire arms, shoulders, torso and sides with his hands, lingered a moment on my hard member, reluctantly moving away from it as his hands ventured on my back and his fingers searched for my scars. We locked our eyes and the only sounds we could hear was the water dripping down and our thick breathing. At the same time we wrapped our arms around each other's backs and connected our mouths in a deep and avid kiss. I could understand why before I had never desired to share such intimate and precious moment with anyone.

Anatoly tore from the kiss and his fingers studied the thickness of the scars on my back.

"Turn around, Oleg," his voice was rawer than before, almost a rasp. I smirked at him and he inhaled sharply, but then I did as he said, enjoying to hear the groan of lust tearing away from his lips. "Fuuck..." His hands were instantly on my back and they slowly and hungrily savoured every little particular of it: my inks, my scars, my muscles, the way they shifted and flexed under his feverish touch. They then travelled lower and grabbed my sides, while he exhaled loudly; I remained apparently quiet and still, with my eyes closed to better enjoy his touch. Anatoly went to seize my ass on its sides, as if his fingers tasted the tightness of my muscles, now powerfully contracting under his hold. "Fuck Oleg..." With those words Anatoly literally crashed his body against mine, making me feel how aroused he was, as his incredible hardness pressed on my ass. A very raving growl left my throat and I braced the palms of my hands on the wall of the shower.

I had to take a deep breath to gain some shred of control, because feeling Anatoly in such untamed way almost made me turn around to push him against the door of the shower box; the need to take him and make love with Anatoly was about to consume me entirely, however I knew when to recall a thread of rationality, aware that, yes we both needed it with all our hearts and minds, but not in this way.

"Anatoly," I warned him as his hands slipped in front and closed on my chest, his erection throbbing against my flesh. "Anatoly I doubt you wish more than this happening here in a rather confined shower."

He nodded on my shoulder, although his body pressed still firm and hard on me. His chest rose in deep breaths, clearly collecting a drop of control, and then he pulled back a moment.

"You're right, Oleg. Definitely not in here," he said with a voice that left no doubts on how he felt. On how we both felt.

"Neither do I, believe me." I turned around and assessed his eyes, taking his face in my hands. "I did not lie before: you can without effort tear my reason away, leaving my desire completely without restraints."

"You told me that you wanted me behaving and being without any restraints or limits, right?" I nodded and never let go of his gaze. "Well, so do I: I want you Oleg without any fucking restraints. No more limits or lines between us."

A rather dark smile formed on my lips and Anatoly unconsciously lured closer to me, swallowing down loudly.

"Indeed Anatoly: no more limits between us."

Author's chit-chat:

Yes, this coming week I will post another new chapter because I know you all very well: you cannot wait for the following one where, well, more connection will take place :-)

Now, I think you understand that these two characters couldn't be thrown into making love right at the beginning of the chapter I just updated, because I wanted to build their connection, their desire and love. They are rather special and I wanted to give them the chance to realise that they are indeed free to love each other, to deepen the relationship.

Tolya has friends and goes to school, so I like to insert small but important parts of those spheres in the story :-)

Many things happened in this chapter, don't you agree?

Now, what are your thoughts about this new chapter? Did you expect them to be like this physically speaking? We will see more in CH.20 for sure. But clearly Oleg is very direct with Tolya and Tolya with him.

Let me know what you think because I absolutely love your comments!

Now let me tell you something I have noticed: I heard some writers sometimes had / have issues with some readers being rather "rude" or somehow lacking tact. I must say that I have NOT experienced this and I wanted to thank you all for your sweetness and kindness, for the support and energy you always give my Cat and I, thank you. Please, let's always be kind with everybody ^^

So, this coming week I will update "Loving You is Forbidden" and "Fallen for an Angel", so STAY TUNED!

Lots of Love, Magic, and Meows,
-TheWitchAndTheCat-