Colleagues To Domination – Part 4

Rohan Sucks Arslan Awake And Swallows Every Drop

Read from PART 1 here. 

Read the previous part here

The room was still dark when Rohan opened his eyes. Rain had slowed to a soft drizzle against the window. Arslan’s arm was heavy across his waist, his chest pressed warm against Rohan’s back. Every slow breath Arslan took pushed his body a little closer.

Rohan lay completely still for a long time, listening to the steady heartbeat behind him. Then he felt it, the thick, soft weight of Arslan’s cock resting against the curve of his ass. Even in sleep it felt heavy. Present.

Something restless and hungry twisted low in Rohan’s stomach. He remembered the way that cock had looked last night. The weight of it on his tongue. The way Arslan had guided his head. The taste he never got to finish.

Carefully, Rohan began to shift. Millimetre by millimetre. Arslan’s arm tightened once, then loosened as he sank deeper into sleep. Rohan turned onto his stomach, then slowly slid downward under the thin sheet. The air under the sheet was warm and smelled like skin and last night’s rain.

Arslan lay on his back now, one arm thrown above his head, legs slightly spread. His cock rested thick against his thigh, soft but already impressive. Dark, heavy and cut showing of the big head. Rohan’s mouth watered.

He settled between Arslan’s legs, heart hammering so loud he was scared it would wake him. For a few seconds he just looked. Then he leaned in and pressed the softest open-mouthed kiss to the base. Arslan didn’t move. Rohan kissed higher. Then higher. When his lips finally closed around the head, he felt it twitch against his tongue.

He stayed like that for a long moment, just holding the soft weight in his mouth, breathing through his nose. Then he began to suck, slow, gentle, almost worshipful. He used his tongue to licked under the head in small circles the way Arslan had taught him. The cock in his mouth started thickening. Lengthening. Growing heavier on his tongue.

Arslan’s breathing changed.

Rohan froze, lips still stretched around the swelling head. A low, sleepy sound rumbled in Arslan’s chest. Then a large hand slid into Rohan’s hair. Not pushing. Just resting. Fingers flexing once.

Arslan’s voice came out rough, thick with sleep.

“Jaari rakh.”

Rohan’s eyes fluttered shut. He sank down further, taking more of the now fully hard cock into his mouth. Arslan’s hips gave a tiny, involuntary roll. The hand in Rohan’s hair tightened, guiding him into a deeper rhythm.

“Haan… aise. Slow. Poora muh m lele.”

Rohan obeyed. Spit started running down the thick shaft. The wet sounds filled the quiet room. Arslan’s other hand came down and rested on Rohan’s cheek, thumb stroking once near the corner of his stretched lips, almost tender.

“Raat bhar socha is muh ke baare mein,” Arslan murmured, voice still heavy. “Apne aap chusne aa gaya. Sale kitna bhookha h mere lie.”

Rohan moaned around the cock. The vibration made Arslan’s stomach tighten. His grip in Rohan’s hair became firmer. He started lifting his hips in small, controlled thrusts, fucking up into Rohan’s mouth with lazy morning power.

“Nikaalna nhi muh se bc. Main bolun tabhi. Haan… bas aise.”

Rohan’s own cock ached against the mattress, untouched. Tears pricked the corners of his eyes every time the thick head pushed a little too deep, but he didn’t pull away. He wanted it. He wanted the taste Arslan had denied him last night.

Arslan’s breathing grew harsher. His thighs tensed under Rohan’s hands.

“Nikalne wala hoon… muh mein hi lena. Poora.”

The first pulse hit Rohan’s tongue thick and hot. He almost had till throat from the sudden rush, but Arslan’s hand held him firmly in place. Rope after rope of cum filled his mouth. Some spilled out the corner of his lips and dripped onto Arslan’s stomach.

Rohan swallowed what he could, throat working visibly. The taste was heavier than he expected — salty, slightly bitter, and completely addictive.

Only when the last tremor passed did Arslan loosen his grip. Rohan pulled off slowly, a thick string of cum and spit connecting his bottom lip to the glistening head. He looked up.

Arslan was fully awake now. Eyes dark. Chest rising and falling. He reached down and wiped the mess from the corner of Rohan’s mouth with his thumb, then pushed the same thumb between Rohan’s lips.

“Chaat.”

Rohan did.

Arslan watched him for a long second. Then he sat up, grabbed Rohan under the arms, and pulled him up until they were face to face. The kiss he gave him was deep and filthy, tongue sliding into Rohan’s mouth, tasting himself there. When he pulled back, his voice was quieter.

“Itna bhi sabr nahi hota tujhe?”

Rohan’s face burned. “Nahi… nahi hua.”

Arslan’s mouth curved. He kissed him once more, softer this time.

“Achha hua nahi hua. Ab se jab bhi muh mein lena ho you need to ask me for permission”

He swung his legs off the bed and stood up. His cock was still half-hard, shiny with Rohan’s spit. He looked down at Rohan’s neglected, leaking cock and shook his head once.

“Aaj nahi. Pehle uth. Bathroom aa.”

The shower was narrow. Arslan pushed Rohan under the warm water first, then stepped in behind him. Broad chest against Rohan’s back. He didn’t speak much. Just took the soap and started washing him, slow, thorough, possessive. Hands sliding over Rohan’s chest, down his stomach, between his legs. When he soaped Rohan’s cock he stroked it only three times, just enough to make Rohan’s knees weak, then stopped.

“No.” One quiet word against Rohan’s ear. “Aaj nahi nikalega but meri marzi se nikalega. You have to be needy”

Rohan’s forehead dropped against the wet tiles. He nodded.

Arslan washed himself next, then made Rohan soap his back and chest. When Rohan’s soapy hands slid lower, Arslan caught his wrist.

“Bas…”

They dried off in silence. Arslan threw Rohan one of his own t-shirts and a pair of shorts that were too big. The clothes smelled like him. While Rohan dressed, Arslan stood behind him and fixed the collar, fingers lingering on the side of his neck.

In the kitchen Arslan made chai and eggs like it was any other morning. But when they sat on the small bed to eat, he pulled Rohan between his legs so Rohan’s back rested against his chest. He fed him from his own plate. One hand stayed on Rohan’s bare thigh the entire time, thumb drawing slow circles.

“Office jaana h aaj?” Arslan asked against his temple.

“Haan… jaana padega.”

“Theek hai. Par shaam ko mere sath seedha yahan aana hoga.”

Rohan’s pulse jumped. “Haan.”

Arslan’s hand slid a little higher on his thigh.

Rohan swallowed. The taste of Arslan was still ghosted on his tongue.

Arslan pressed a slow kiss to the side of his neck, just below the ear. Not rushed. Not purely sexual. Something heavier.

Outside, Mumbai was waking up under grey monsoon clouds. Inside the small flat, Rohan sat between Arslan’s legs, wearing his clothes, mouth still faintly tasting of him, and realised he no longer wanted to leave.

To be continued in the next part….