Chapter 14
ROLAND
—Bloom by Troye Sivan
All Coker does is chuckle, and the sound vibrates through my body, but he doesn’t remove his mouth from my arse. Instead, he presses his face even deeper until I’m floating on cloud nine and moaning helplessly.
I know I’ll feel the burn later, but right now I couldn’t care less even if I tried.
He spreads my legs wider impatiently, spearing in and out of my hole with his tongue.
At some point he adds his finger back and the combination creates this indescribable jolt that goes straight to my core.
My entire lower body is buzzing so much that my head is spinning; a string of breathless curses spills out of me.
He removes his tongue, and immediately, I miss it, my arse clenching around nothing. I barely have time to process the absence before he’s pressing into me again, this time with a second lubed finger. My hand tangles in his afro, gripping tighter than I mean to that I almost yank him off the floor.
“Now we’re talking,” he mutters, his voice is wrecked, and just like earlier I can’t believe pleasuring me turns him on this much.
Everything else fades into the background.
The room, my pride, my sanity. They all become secondary to the intense pressure building in my abdomen and the awareness of how sensitive my hole is, stretched wide open for him.
I don’t expect to want even more but I crave it, deliriously.
My chest rises and falls so fast, my breath is coming out in uneven bursts; I’m afraid my heart will slam right out of my chest.
“I feel like I’m out of my mind,” I admit, voice hoarse.
“That’s the whole point,” he replies easily.
He pistons two fingers inside me and then adds a third digit, sending ripples of pleasure through me that makes my toes curl. He then curls his fingers deeper into me, adjusting the angle like he’s searching for something, and—
“Fuuuccckkk,” I hiss, my whole body jerking as something electric sparks inside me.
My back arches off the bed, a strangled sound tearing out of my throat because my arse is on fire in a way that is both shocking and intensely pleasurable.
What the fuck was that? Was that always there? Inside me the whole time and it’s just getting activated?
“H-how?” I stutter, my voice breaking as my head drops backward.
Coker doesn’t stop teasing that spot. If anything, he increases his tempo, making my eyes roll to the back of my head.
“I see you’ve gotten acquainted with your prostate.”
At some point, I start moving against him, unconsciously grinding the spot making my entire body light up into his fingers, my hips shifting in needy motions.
My cock is painfully hard, precum leaking against my thighs.
This is the greatest feeling ever, nothing even comes close, not even the rush of catching a tricky win-deciding shot.
I suck in my breath, pushing back on Coker’s fingers until—
“You’re gonna kill meeeee,” I groan, dragging the words out as another jolt shoots through me when he grazes my prostate again. “I’m seriously going to blow my load soon.”
Coker withdraws his fingers with a big grin plastered on his face. “Pass me the condom.”
I mourn the loss of the fullness with a quiet whine, my hands trembling as I fumble for it and toss it in his direction.
My pulse is loud in my ears, my entire body buzzing with anticipation as I watch him roll the condom down his length, his eyes never leaving my arse.
When he gestures for me to lie on my stomach, I obey immediately.
The mattress dips as he climbs onto the bed behind me, gently guiding my legs apart before settling there.
He then presses two fingers back into my hole and I hear the squelch.
He exhales a low, appreciative sound under his breath.
“You’re ready to take my dick. So open and wet,” he says, fucking into me with his fingers a little bit.
I lift my head and I turn back to see him coating his fat cock with a generous amount of lube before drizzling some on my hole.
I want to tell him to stick it in already, stop drawing it out, but I’ve behaved needy enough for one day.
He spreads the lube well across his shaft and then he is lining it up against my hole, pressing one hand on the small of my back.
He drags his cock across my crease first, then he slowly—very slowly—pushes into me.
Oh, the stretch burns. It burns so badly.
This is nothing like the gentle intrusion of his fingers or his tongue.
But I’m nothing if not determined. I press my face into the sheets, biting down on the fabric to keep any sound from escaping.
I try to bear down on him, but it’s still a lot more than I expected.
Coker stops pushing into me and his hand starts massaging my back. “You have to breathe.”
I nod into the sheets, focusing on dragging in one breath after the other while his hand on my waist slowly works through the initial sting. When I feel him withdrawing, I force my head up and turn to him.
“No!” My voice comes out desperate.
He stills, not moving forward and not pulling away either, still rubbing soothing patterns along my lower back. “Okay,” he says, leaning down to press light kisses across my back. “Just relax. Let your body adjust.”
I focus on what he’s saying, on his voice, on my breathing and little by little, the tension in my body eases and the discomfort becomes more manageable.
“I’m ready. Go all the way in.”
“That will hurt,” he says, looking conflicted.
“I can take it . . . Please.”
He takes a deep breath, his hand on my back firmer, but he doesn’t do as I’ve asked.
Instead, he slides in even more slowly. I take him in inch by inch, adjusting to his size and getting used to this new sense of the fullness inside me until he bottoms out.
We both groan at the same time. Fuck. I drop my head back on the bed.
I feel so full and stretched, every nerve around my arse lit up, raw, alive and burning.
A spark of want skitters down my spine all the way into my toes.
My cock seeks friction so much that I didn’t realise I had started rubbing my cock on the sheets.
The ache melts into a sting, and the sting blooms into an unbearable pleasure.
“You good?” he asks, voice rough and husky above me.
“Mmmh-mmmh,” I manage, nodding weakly.
“Does it hurt?”
“Not anymore.”
His cock in me feels so good and obscenely big.
The first tentative thrust pegs my prostate, and I’m not even sure he means to.
The feeling of being so full and the brush against my prostate is so intense that I’m about to come on the spot untouched, but I don’t want it to end too soon.
Not when it just started. I move my hips, trying to wordlessly to tell him to move.
He gets it immediately and doesn’t tease me about it like I expected.
He starts with a slow roll of his hips, testing what I can handle.
He then starts thrusting into me in earnest, making pleasure tear through me.
He pulls his cock out to the tip, and this time he slams into me with reckless abandon.
“Look at you,” he rasps, a sheen of sweat forming along his brow. “Taking my cock like you were made for it.”
“It feels so good,” I almost wail. “So, so good.”
“Yes,” he hisses, hauling me up onto all fours.
His hands clamp down my hips, holding me exactly where he needs me.
The new angle changes everything, sending a rush stronger than before through my body.
“I’m going to make it more than good for you, big guy.
I’m going to make it better. The best you’ve ever had. ”
The promise alone makes my hole clench around him. “Please,” is all I can manage to say.
He sets an even pace, pistoning in and out of me, and I swear my brain is leaking out of my ears.
The mattress creaks and shakes under us, my head knocking against the headboard with each thrust, and instead of pulling away, I just let it happen.
He can concuss me and ruin me, do whatever, as long as he doesn’t stop.
It’s still not enough. God, I want more.
Greedy and ridiculous and embarrassing amounts of more.
I want to kiss him. I want him to shove his tongue down my throat and claim me—which is insane.
I should be freaking out. I’m being taken apart by another man’s cock, and my biggest concern right now is that he hasn’t kissed me yet.
“Use your words, big guy,” he grunts, eyes half-lidded.
That’s when I realise I’ve lifted my head without thinking, chin tilting up, my mouth hovering way too close to his as he fucks into me, his hips meeting my arse in a reckless rhythm.
“I’m balls deep inside your arse and you’re shy to ask for a kiss?”
My face heats up at his words. He’s so sure of himself. Meanwhile, I have to second-guess every fucking thing I feel. Nah. I will be bold, if only today. I can go back to overanalysing things tomorrow.
“Kiss me, please,” I beg.
He grunts, his eyes darkening. His face morphs into something wild and hungry.
His right hand leaves my hip and slides up until his fingers are curling around my neck.
And then he crashes our mouths together.
And if I think I was on cloud nine before, his mouth on mine takes me fully up to heaven.
He tastes warm and a little salty and completely addictive.
Our kiss is messy and deep and nothing like any kiss I’ve ever had before.
It makes tingles run through my body in a way that is both intoxicating and relieving.
My mind goes blank, every thought is annihilated from my brain.
I feel untethered, like I’m free falling, out of control and highly off balance.
Coker kisses me like he’s been thinking about it for a long time.
Like this is something he has replayed in his head a hundred times.
Like he already knows exactly how to take my mouth and make it his.
His lips move against mine, deepening the kiss every time I try to catch my breath, and when his hips snap forward and he pegs my prostate twice in quick succession, a full body shudder I can’t stop rips through me.
But he doesn’t let go of my mouth, leaving me delirious.
Everything feels so heightened that I’m sure I’ll pass out soon.
The drag of him moving in and out of me, the glide of the silk sheets brushing against my cock every time my hips jerk, the wet sound of our bodies meeting over and over again—they all blend together until my head is feeling fuzzy from how good everything feels.
I’ve never felt this present during sex before. Usually, it’s just something to get through. More like an obligation. I can’t believe this is what I’ve been missing out on.
The way he moves, the way he fills me, the way every thrust sends tiny shocks of pleasure skittering under my skin and blooming into goosebumps along my arms and back.
It’s so intense it should hurt, except it doesn’t.
It just builds and builds and builds . .
. I’ve never felt this good during sex. It’s not even over yet and I already know I’m going to want it again.
Coker releases my mouth, both of us breathing harder, and his hand comes back to my hip, his finger digging in. His thrusts turn messy and erratic as he brushes my prostate over and over.
I hold myself on all fours, knees pressed into the mattress, arms shaking as I meet him thrust for thrust. Somewhere in the back of my mind, a very faint voice is screaming about how I must look right now.
Bent over and desperate, practically fucking myself back on another man’s cock, but the voice gets quickly drowned out in favour of chasing my release.
The bed starts slamming against the wall harder in a repetitive thud that barely registers over the obscene sounds spilling out of both of us.
Somehow, Coker drives into me deeper and rougher, pushing me higher and higher until I’m a sobbing mess and my orgasm is crashing through me.
My mouth falls open around a broken sound, and my thighs tremble as pleasure rolls through me in relentless waves.
It keeps going . . . and going . . . and going .
. . I think my body has forgotten how to come back down once it started.
Holy fuck. I have never felt anything like this in my life.
A cock hitting my prostate is exactly what I’ve needed, the orgasm from it is more intense than any other orgasm I’ve ever had.
I’m dimly aware that Coker hasn’t stopped, his thrust turning sloppy as he chases his own orgasm, meanwhile I’m still floating somewhere above my own body, boneless and wrecked.
I should probably tap out but I don’t. Because one, I’m not an ingrate.
And two, even though I’m sore and overstimulated, it still feels stupidly good.
I lift my weak hand and clumsily tweak his nipple.
He makes a strange, strangled sound deep in his throat, his body jerks and goes rigid for a second.
Then he shudders, hips stuttering as he stills and fills the condom with a hoarse groan.
“Fuck,” he breathes, collapsing on top of me.
For a few long minutes, neither of us say anything. We just lie there, sweaty and panting in unison as we come down from our unbelievable high. My ears are ringing, my whole body is loose in that boneless, blissed-out way that tells me I’ve just been thoroughly fucked.
“Fuck, indeed,” I rasp, my voice rough and completely spent.