He tried to hit Kavinsky with his knee but it didn't do much: he was already settled between his thighs and Proko could barely move as it was. He shivered, goosebumps rising as Kavinksy's breath and voice teased over his skin with words he only sort of knew.

Prokopenko's mouth fell open as Kavinsky's fingers pushed in, feeling chilled against the burning heat inside him. He gasped, moaned, and he tried to grab something - he was pretty sure it was the edge of the cot.

"Fuck," he echoed, breathy and dazed. "Yosef--"