34. Cole
Cole
I’m not sure what I was expecting Freddie to do when I started fucking Sloane like this, but it’s fair to say, I wasn’t expecting that .
He drops down to lie on his belly and then proceeds to go down on her right then and there. This is a strenuous – if incredible – angle already, but I feel like I’m going to blow at the sight of his tongue grazing mere millimetres from my cock.
Sloane cries out at the contact and her pussy spasms, threatening to strangle me. She’s moaning non-stop now as we wind her up, working in tandem to bring her to another shattering orgasm.
It’s then that his hand makes contact with the place where I’m entering her, and I swear, I am about to die.
He doesn’t look up at me – he’s far too focused on making our girl come – but the feel of his fingers against my cock is my undoing.
“I’m so close,” I pant out, struggling to hold myself back.
“Not yet,” he says, before sucking Sloane’s swollen clit into his mouth. Sloane screams as she unravels, a panting, swearing mess. Her pussy pulses around me and I fuck her through it, holding my breath to keep myself from following her.
Then Freddie sits up and grabs his own cock, stroking it fiercely while Sloane starts to melt into me. She cracks open an eye, gives him a lazy smile, and then seals the deal with her next words.
“Paint me with your cum, boys,” she drawls, and I groan against her temple, holding her up as I give a final few powerful thrusts and come inside her. Freddie’s right behind me, and I watch in awe as he does exactly as he’s told.
Ropes of white cum cover Sloane’s creamy skin, across her tits and belly. He collapses down before her as I carefully slide out. Supporting her weight, I slip out from behind her and lay her next to Freddie, then climb off the bed to fetch a warm cloth from the bathroom.
I come back to see Freddie rubbing his cum into her stomach as she gives him a sated smile. It’s a beautiful, filthy moment, and I can’t help the wide smile that spreads across my face at the sight of them.
I clean our girl up before pulling my boxers up and ducking out to grab everyone a drink.
Sloane’s dozing next to Freddie when I return, and I pause in the doorway to watch him stroke her hair. She’s slightly sweaty but absolutely glowing. And totally wrung out from coming so hard.
“Stay,” he whispers. She keeps her eyes shut but smiles.
“I don’t have any pyjamas,” she whispers, the smile still in place.
“You don’t need pyjamas,” he whispers back.
“I don’t have a toothbrush,” she replies.
“I have spares,” I reply, coming into the room and settling the water down.
“What if you hog the duvet?”
“Then you can wrestle me for it.” Freddie plants a kiss on her nose and I know it’s settled.
Our girl – the one who doesn’t do sleepovers – is staying the night.
The next morning, I wake early in a tangle of limbs.
Sloane is fast asleep next to me, her soft features scrubbed clean of makeup.
Her hair is all fanned out on the pillow, the soft curls begging me to touch them.
Her pale skin is flushed slightly around the apples of her cheeks.
She’d look a lot like Snow White, if Snow White had been freshly fucked before eating the poisoned apple.
My eyes trace the soft curve of her shoulder and land on Freddie, who’s out for the count next to her. Freddie’s personality seems to come through even in his sleep – he’s sprawled out with one arm above his head, the very picture of nonchalance.
I take an indulgent moment to admire the vast expanse of torso that’s on view. Even relaxed, the muscles across his abs are gently defined, leading down to that delicious ‘v’ of muscles around his Adonis belt.
He stirs, and I jerk back as if I’ve been caught with my hand in the cookie jar. But he merely murmurs something unintelligible and rolls over, seeking out Sloane in his sleep. I watch him scoop her into him and she settles with a sigh, a slight smile on her lips.
I slide out of bed as quietly as I can and close my bedroom door with a soft click. I’ll let them sleep for as long as I can.
After making a coffee, I head into my studio to assess the lay of the land with my latest work.
Several new canvases are propped up around the edges, their paint now dry and ready for inspection.
Some of the pieces are finished, some are lacking something.
I never quite know what until I’ve lived with them for a few days.
But this morning I feel inspired to start a new one.
I select a biggie – a four-foot square that only just fits on my biggest easel – and get to work. Sweeping arcs of deep claret blend with violets and indigos, a story told in a single moment as colours collide and dance together.
It takes shape faster than usual, and I’m lost in the work until I hear a delicate cough behind me. Whirling around, I see Sloane in the doorway, leaning on the frame. She’s wearing one of my shirts, and damn if the sight of that doesn’t wake my cock up.
“I wasn’t sure if I was allowed in here,” she says softly, her eyes fixed on mine.
I put the brush down and turn on my stool.
“You’re welcome anywhere. Come on in.”
She’s hesitant but she follows, coming to stand before my work in progress. I watch her take it in, her eyes snagging on little elements and details. She looks at it for a long time before she says anything. I’m just starting to feel self-conscious when she finally speaks.
“These are breathtaking, Cole,” she says, voice soft. She walks slowly around the studio, taking in the pieces that line the floors and walls. “I love them so much.”
“Thank you,” I say, clearing my throat. I feel strangely emotional seeing her in my space like this, but if she can overcome her demons and spend the night, I can let her into my private space too.
“I adore the way you use colour,” she says, pointing to a darker piece with splashes of turquoise and gold.
“It’s vibrant but moody. There’s something erotic about it.
” She turns back to me and smiles, returning to stand in front of me.
I haven’t moved from my stool, but I widen my legs and she steps into the space like she belongs there.
“Hello, firecracker,” I say, my voice thick.
She smiles, then takes my glasses off, placing them carefully on the table beside me. Then she takes my face in both her hands, thumbs cresting lightly over my cheekbones. My eyesight isn’t that bad – I can still see her fine – but I close my eyes anyway as I lean into her touch.
“You’re very beautiful, do you know that?” She leans in and kisses each of my eyelids, and I know without a doubt that I’m gone for this woman. Freddie might have fallen first, but I’m jumping in right after him.
I open my eyes again, the soft focus of her face before me, and I feel nothing but peace.
“Whoa, Cole, these are incredible!” The spell is broken by the arrival of Freddie, who materialises in my studio with a cup of coffee in each hand.
Sloane gives me an easy smile, pulling back and putting my glasses back on for me.
I snatch her hand as she pulls away and plant a kiss on her open palm.
She blushes, a look in her eyes that I can’t quite read – but know I’d crawl across glass to see again.
“Thanks, Freddie,” I reply, as he hands Sloane a mug. “It’s just a few bits and bobs I’ve been working on in the evenings.”
“Hey, don’t downplay it, man. These are amazing.” He follows the route Sloane took around the studio, taking in each piece one by one. “There is something very sexy about this one,” he adds, pointing one out.
“That’s what I said!”
“Clearly getting laid more is the inspiration you needed.” Freddie gives me a shit-eating grin and I roll my eyes.
But he’s probably not wrong. I’ve been in the studio more in the last few weeks than I have in a long time.
We head back into the main bit of the flat and into the kitchen just as Freddie’s phone pings. He pulls it out with a small frown.
“ Erm , feel free to say no, but I don’t suppose you guys are free tomorrow, are you?” Freddie says, looking up between us both.
Sloane raises a brow. “Why…?”
“My mum’s making a Sunday roast and she’s invited you round. Both of you.”
“Oh!”
There’s a pause – a stalemate as we all decide if we’re ready to take this fledging relationship to the next level. Freddie jerks open the fridge and takes something out.
“She knows about us, obviously. I saw her last weekend.” Freddie goes pink as he says it, and I suspect that means he told her about the kiss too. God love Carol Lane – I bet she hardly batted an eyelid.
Sloane looks to me first.
“Are you up for it?” she says, a slight touch of concern in her eyes.
“Of course,” I reply. “Carol is basically family to me anyway. And I can tell you now, she’s going to love you.”
Sloane swallows, uncertainty crossing her features before she looks back to Freddie as he hands her one of the little brown pots from the fridge.
“Ok. Meeting the parents. Let’s do this.” She looks down at what Freddie’s given her. “What the fuck is a Rolo dessert?”