This time, when he pulls his fingers back, Jiang slides them out. It's easy to shift them down, to rub against Proko's ass and sinking one finger in at that same glacial pace. There's enough messy slickness that it's easy going.

"Slut." It comes out hard, but a little teasingly sing-song. Now, given the space to think about it, listening to Proko's soft, gently whining voice, it's easier. He can think about it. He wishes he'd known earlier. "Think how good it would've been to tell me about him fucking you in those phone calls, Illya. You had two months of fucking around, and you could have been teasing me with it."