Chapter 13
ROLAND
—Fire Meet Gasoline
by Sia
Coker stays half hard the entire time we shower. I can’t keep my eyes off him. Unlike our hook up in Denmark—with me so out of my mind, I barely registered anything beyond my orgasm—I now have the luxury of taking all of him in.
Wow. With his boxers gone, I finally get a proper look at his dick, and yeah, huge does not even begin to cover it.
Even at half-mast, it hangs thick between his thighs.
He is clearly both a shower and a grower.
I always assumed, because of his light skin, that his cock would be darker, but it’s not.
It is flushed and reddish, with the base dusted with brownish hair.
My eyes drift lower, then up again, and I notice a scatter of freckles along his waist and hips.
When he turns his back to pick up the body wash, I catch sight of more of them, faint speckles disappearing over the curve of his arse and down into his crease.
He turns back too quickly, robbing me of the rest of the view, and finds me staring at him like a man who has never seen a naked body before in his life.
“If you keep looking at me like that, I’ll take you right here against the wall,” he says, his hands sliding to my waist, thumbs brushing circles into my skin.
My cock perks up instantly, loving every word of that sentence. “You talk a big game for such a small guy,” I tease, squirting body wash into my palm just so I have something to do that isn’t openly gawking at his dick and arse.
He glances down at himself, then back at me, one corner of his mouth lifting. “You better be referring to my body because,” he says, wrapping a hand around his cock, “this is anything but small.”
I snort before I can stop myself. “You sure are humble.”
“Pffft,” he scoffs. “I don’t need humility. Everyone who’s had a taste of junior came back begging for more.”
He says it with so much confidence that I can’t even think of a comeback.
He reaches over and turns the shower on properly, angling his body so the spray lands on his shoulders and chest but not his hair.
Water runs down his torso in slow rivulets, tracing over his muscles and freckles and that stupidly perfect V-line.
Is it completely irrational for me to want to squeeze the life out of every ex and fuck buddy he’s ever had?
Because the way he casually mentions his past exploits makes something possessive rear its ugly head in my chest.
“Of course you named your dick,” I say, aiming for dry amusement instead of the fact that I was internally beefing with people I’ve never met for daring to touch him before me.
He sees right through me, though. I never knew I could be this transparent until I started getting closer to him.
“Aww,” he says, voice dripping with delight as he reaches up and pulls at my cheeks. “Is this big guy jealous?”
“Why would I be jealous?” I shoot back, then immediately change the subject before I incriminate myself further. “You don’t wash your hair?”
He snorts and, thankfully, takes the bait. “I’m not a dirty guy,” he says, rolling his eyes. “But my products are still packed, and I am eager to fuck you. Hair care can come later.”
And just like that, whatever was making me murderous evaporates. They might have had him in the past, but right now and until the end of this World Cup, I own him.
God. Chill, Roland.
“Let’s get to it then.” I rinse the last of the suds off my body and the wall.
“I’ve never met a straight guy who’s eager to be fucked like you,” he says as he steps out of the shower and grabs a towel.
“You’re such a little brat,” I reply, pulling his hand and leaving the bathroom. “I think we both know I’m not that straight.”
By the time we get back to the room, Coker is fully hard.
He leans against the wall while I stand awkwardly in the middle of the room without a clue what to do.
Is there an etiquette to sleeping with your ex-wife’s best friend?
Maybe a handbook or a pamphlet? Even a short instructional video will come in handy.
Because shit is about to get very real, and I feel wildly underprepared for someone who was literally begging to get fucked ten minutes ago.
He licks his lips, watching me in a way that makes my skin feel too tight for my body, then he shakes his head.
“Are you sure about this?”
I blink at him. Is he serious? “Am I sure?” I repeat.
“Yes,” he answers. “I know I want to. I’ve wanted to since—” He cuts himself off, shaking his head again like he’s about to say too much. “I just need to be sure you want this.”
Oh.
He’s actually checking to make sure my head is in it.
And for some reason, that does something extremely inappropriate to me.
My cock jumps back to full hardness because of how much I want it.
He notices immediately, his eyes drifting to my dick, then lifting back up with that smug little smirk I’ve unfortunately grown to adore.
“I can see you’re on board. But I still need you to say it.”
God. Why is that so hot? Why is being asked for consent turning me on more than half the filthy things he has said today?
Again, like an overzealous airhead, I nod. “Fuck me already,” I whine.
He lets out a low chuckle. “Go to my travelling bag. Get the small purse inside it; there’s lube and condom there.”
“So bossy,” I mutter under my breath even as my body thrums with need.
If he asks me to crawl to him right now, there would be no argument from me, I’m sure.
For a split second, I feel like telling him we don’t need condoms. That I want to feel every inch of him.
But my brain, thankfully, still has one functioning cell left, letting me know I’m being ridiculous.
I dig into his travelling bag, find the small purse, and pull out the lube and condom before straightening up and turning back to him, waiting for his next order. It’s like he has me on a short leash, and I don’t want it removed.
Still leaning against the wall, he jerks his chin towards the bed, gesturing for me to get on it. “On your stomach,” he says.
I obey without hesitation, setting the supplies from my hand on top of the bedside drawer before stretching out on the silk sheets.
In another life, maybe I would pause and question why I’m this quick to follow his instructions.
Maybe I would examine what that says about me.
Right now, though, my cock is throbbing so hard between my thighs that it has hijacked every sensible thought in my head.
I’m damn near leaking precum onto the sheets, and the only clear thought I can conjure up in my brain is that I need him inside me as soon as possible.
As if he can read how desperate I am, he leaves the wall and stands beside the bed.
His fingers slide over my arse, then trail up my spine in featherlight touches.
Every brush of his hand sends another spike of arousal through me.
If arousals can be rated, I’m definitely at the highest level.
I lift my head and glance back at him, and God, the look on his face nearly undoes me.
His eyes are dark, taking me in like I’m something rare laid out just for him, like he’s already planning exactly how he’s going to ruin me.
“Come on,” I whine again, hips shifting restlessly against the bed.
He lets out an amused chuckle as his hand wraps around his thick cock, stroking it twice. “I just can’t decide what to do first,” he muses. “I want to feed you my cock and I want to be in your arse at the same damn time.”
“You would need two cocks for that,” I say, my hand itching to touch him.
“I know, right? Imagine what I could achieve with two dicks. I would be unstoppable.”
Any retorts I may have had die as soon as he climbs onto the bed and wedges himself between my legs. His grip is firm as he drags me down a few inches by the waist, positioning me exactly where he wants me. My breath stutter when his hands spread my arse open.
“Now I feast,” he declares, grinning.
His head disappears between my cheeks and the first slow lick along my crease makes my entire body jolt.
His tongue drags down over my taint and back up again, and the sensation is so unexpectedly intense that my cock, which had softened a little, springs right to attention.
His tongue presses against my rim and I gasp, fingers clutching helplessly at the sheets.
The pleasure is electric. It courses through my body and settles in my abdomen, making my hips twitch before I can control them.
I can’t even put this feeling into words.
It’s too much and nowhere near enough at the same time.
Every pass of his tongue is sending me out of my fucking mind, and his cock isn’t even inside me yet.
Fuck! I need this the way my lungs need air. I need him.
He seals his mouth over my hole in a gentle pull, then drags his tongue up again, from my taint to the top of my crease, devouring me.
I want him to talk. I want him to say filthy, shameless things, something about how I taste, how much he likes having me like this, spread open and desperate under him.
God, I’m so far gone, my mind is already spiralling into all sorts of thoughts that are probably embarrassing if spoken out loud.
“Fuck. You taste so good,” he says, lifting his head just enough to look at me, his eyes darker now and hungry. “I can do this forever.”
My brain short-circuits. Forever sounds perfect.
Forever sounds ideal. Forever sounds like something I would happily sign up for without reading the fine print.
But instead of saying any of that deranged nonsense, I just stare at him like I’ve lost every functional thought in my head.
He reaches up and grabs the bottle of lube.
“Turn on your back,” he commands, flipping the cap open. “Let your arse sit at the edge of the bed.”
I do as he instructs, quickly scooting down until my arse is right at the edge, my knees parting to bracket him as he kneels between my thighs.
My legs are already trembling, and he hasn’t even touched me again.
My cock is rock hard, resting against my stomach, and begging for attention.
I would hand over my entire life savings for one proper touch from him right now.
He dips his head back between my thighs and surprises me when his mouth closes around one of my balls.
The sound that leaves me is not dignified, and not even remotely masculine.
It just spills out of me helplessly because the heat of his mouth and the soft suction send a wave of pleasure straight through my gut.
“Oh! Fuck,” I gasp, hips jerking before I can stop myself.
He hums against me, and I know he’s pleased with my reaction.
His tongue flicks as his lips keep working on my balls.
My chest is heaving and for one ridiculous, mortifying second, my eyes sting because the pleasure I feel is that overwhelming.
My body doesn’t know where to put all of it, so it just floods everywhere at once.
He pulls away from my balls, and my body twitches in protest. He then sucks his index finger into his mouth, eyes flicking up to mine, enjoying what he’s doing to me.
A second later, that same finger presses against my hole, rubbing in small circles before he dips back down to my balls.
The sensations collide in the worst and best way, my whole body tensing as a zing shoots straight through me.
“Relax for me, big guy,” he says, his voice is slightly muffled around my balls.
I nod even though he can’t see me. And just as I expected, he leaves my balls and tilts his head at me.
“I’m relaxed,” I assure him quickly.
Coker drags his tongue over the tip of my cock, collecting the precum there before his hand wraps around me in a lazy stroke, watching me the whole time. When my breathing evens out a little, he reaches for the lube and squirts some on his finger before slowly sliding it inside me.
Holy shit. My body wants to tense again, the unfamiliar stretch causing me to clamp up, but I force myself to stay still and breathe through it, getting accustomed to a finger in my arse. A Finger. In. My. Arse.
I brace myself for discomfort and awkwardness, or even pain.
Instead, what spreads through me is a strange, tingling warmth that ripples outward, my skin prickling as his finger thrusts in and out of my hole.
It is alien and intense and a little overwhelming, but to my own shock, it’s not bad at all.
I know one finger is not the same as his cock, but if something this small can pull this much pleasure out of me, then the thought of having his cock inside me makes me light-headed.
When I get back to London, I am going to start practicing on my own because this feels better than any sex I’ve ever had.
“That feels so great. Damn,” I rasp, my voice rough and embarrassingly needy.
He stops sucking my cockhead and goes back to my arse, replacing his finger with his tongue, pushing it inside with ease.
I gasp as he rolls his tongue inside me, literally fucking into me with it, the wet pressure arching my back.
The sounds leaving my mouth are humiliating and involuntary as he teases me again and again with his tongue.
“I’m ready,” I blurt out because if he keeps going like this, I won’t be able to hold off my orgasm.