Colleagues To Domination – Part 6

Arslan Claims Rohan Completely After Work

Read from PART 1 here. 

Check the previous part here. 

Rohan and Arslan were so tired that they went to sleep for night and woke up late. Arslan was angry with himself for sleeping in, as he wanted to make Rahul finally his. They woke up late the next morning and rushed to office. After a long chill day, the rain had stopped by the time they reached the flat, but the air still felt heavy, like the city itself was holding its breath.

Arslan didn’t switch on the main lights. Only the warm yellow lamp in the corner of the hall glowed. He dropped his bag, locked the door, and turned to Rohan. For a moment he just looked at him; really looked, as if memorising the last version of Rohan that still thought he had any choice left.

Then he spoke, voice calm. “Aaj ke baad wapas nahi jaa sakta tu. Samajh raha hai na? Ek to maine kal soke galti ki h, uska mera gussa aaj niklega, smjha na?” Rohan’s throat moved. “Haan.” Arslan stepped closer. “Bol ke bata.” “Samajh raha hoon.” “Achha.”

He kissed him. Not soft. Not testing. A deep, claiming kiss that had Rohan’s mouth open and took what it wanted. Rohan’s back hit the wall. Arslan’s body pressed fully against him, hard chest, harder cock already thickening inside his trousers. One hand gripped Rohan’s jaw, the other slid down and squeezed his ass roughly.

“Din bhar sochta raha,” Arslan muttered against his mouth. “Kaise tujhe kholunga. Kaise andar tak bharaunga. Kaise tujhe yaad dilwaunga ki tu ab sirf mera hai.” Rohan’s answer was only a shaky breath. Arslan pulled him to the centre of the room and pushed him down to his knees with one firm hand on his shoulder.

The carpet was rough under Rohan’s knees. Arslan stood over him, unzipped, and freed his cock. It looked even bigger from below. Thick, heavy, already half-hard and growing. The dark head was swollen, a clear bead of precum at the slit. Veins stood out along the shaft. It twitched under Rohan’s stare.

“Muh khol,” Arslan said. Rohan opened. Arslan didn’t give him time to adjust. He gripped both sides of Rohan’s head and pushed in; steady, ruthless, until the fat head hit the back of Rohan’s throat. Rohan gagged hard. Spit flooded his mouth. His hands flew up to Arslan’s thighs.

Arslan didn’t pull out. “Le. Poora. Madarchod, itna time se chus raha hai, ab gale tak le.” He held Rohan there for three long seconds, then started fucking his throat in short, deep strokes. Wet, filthy sounds filled the room. Spit ran down Rohan’s chin and dripped onto his shirt. Tears gathered in his eyes.

Every time Arslan pushed deep, Rohan’s throat convulsed around the thick cock. “Randiyon jaisa muh hai tera,” Arslan growled, voice low and rough. “Itna tight… itna garam. Dekh kaise chud raha hai mere lund se.” Rohan’s eyes watered freely now. He tried to breathe through his nose. Arslan’s balls slapped against his chin.

The hand in his hair tightened. “Bol. Kiska lund hai gale mein?” Rohan could only make a struck, wet sound. Arslan pulled out just enough for him to speak. Thick strings of spit connected Rohan’s swollen lips to the glistening cock. “B-bol…” Rohan gasped, voice wrecked. “Apka… apka lund hai malik…”

“Phir se.” “Malik ka lund hai mere gale mein… Arslan…” Arslan pushed back in with a satisfied grunt and fucked his throat harder for another minute, deep, punishing strokes that made Rohan’s eyes roll. When he finally pulled out completely, Rohan was a mess. Chin shiny, lips red and puffy, breathing in broken gasps.

A thick rope of spit hung from his bottom lip. Arslan wiped it with his thumb and pushed it back into Rohan’s mouth. “Chal. Bedroom.” Rohan crawled the first few steps before his legs remembered how to stand. Arslan followed, already stripping. By the time they reached the bed both were naked.

Arslan’s cock stood fully hard now; heavy, dark, the head leaking. It looked almost angry. He pushed Rohan onto the bed on his back and climbed over him. For a moment the domination softened. He kissed him deeply, tasting his own precum and Rohan’s spit, then moved down his body.

He sucked Rohan’s nipples until they were dark and sensitive, bit the inside of his thighs hard enough to leave marks, then finally spread his legs wide and put his mouth on his hole again. He ate him like a man starved; long, filthy licks, tongue pushing inside, lips sealing and sucking. Two fingers slid in easily this time. Then three.

He stretched him open while his tongue kept working, curling against that spot until Rohan’s back arched off the bed and his cock spilled steadily onto his stomach. “Arslan… please…” Rohan’s voice was already breaking. “Ab… ab andar—” “Abhi nahi.” Arslan’s fingers kept moving. “Pehle bol. Kya hai tu?”

“Apki…” Rohan whispered. “Poora bol.” “Apki randi… Apki slut… please, fuck mee…” Arslan’s eyes flashed. He pulled his fingers out, wiped them on Rohan’s thigh, and finally lined up his cock. The first push was slow but relentless. The thick head stretched Rohan’s hole wide. Rohan’s mouth fell open in a silent cry.

Arslan kept going, inch by thick inch, until he was buried halfway. “Saans le,” he ordered, voice tight with restraint. “Main aaj rukne wala nahi.” He pushed the rest of the way in with one long, steady thrust. Rohan’s hands flew to Arslan’s shoulders, nails digging in. The burn was intense. The fullness was overwhelming.

Arslan’s cock felt impossibly thick inside him, pulsing, claiming every bit of space. Arslan stayed still for a few seconds, forehead pressed to Rohan’s, breathing hard. “Kitna tight h… madarchod. Jaise kisi ne pehle use hi nahi kiya.” He rolled his hips once, grinding deep. “Ab se sirf main use karunga. Samjha?”

“Haan… samajh gaya…” Rohan’s voice cracked. “Please… chodo muze…” Arslan started moving. First strokes were deep and measured. The thick cock dragged against Rohan’s walls, the fat head catching on the rim every time he pulled back before pushing in again. Wet sounds began to fill the room as Rohan’s body slowly accepted him.

Arslan watched every expression on Rohan’s face; the pain turning into something else, the way his eyes glazed, the soft broken moans that kept spilling out. “Bata muze,” Arslan demanded, thrusting harder. “Kaisa lag raha hai?” “FUCK bada h… bohot bada hai… pet tak feel ho raha hai…” Rohan’s words came out in gasps. “Aur…make me yours…”

Arslan hooked Rohan’s legs over his shoulders and folded him almost in half. The new angle let him sink even deeper. Every thrust punched a broken sound out of Rohan. The bed creaked. Skin slapped against skin. “Randi sala, dekh kaise chud rha h madarchod” Arslan growled. “Itna open ho gaya mere lund pe. Asli fag jaisa moan kar raha hai.”

Rohan’s cock slapped against his own stomach with every thrust, completely untouched, leaking continuously. Tears slipped from the corners of his eyes; not from pain anymore, but from how completely he was being taken apart. Arslan pulled out suddenly. Rohan cried out at the emptiness. Before he could protest, Arslan flipped him onto his stomach, yanked his hips up, and slammed back inside in one hard thrust.

The new position was deeper. Rougher. Arslan’s hands gripped Rohan’s waist hard enough to bruise as he started fucking him in earnest; long, powerful strokes that pushed Rohan’s face into the pillow. The wet, filthy sound of his cock driving in and out of Rohan’s stretched hole filled the room. “Bol,” Arslan ordered, voice dark. “Kiski gaand hai yeh?”

“Apki… Apki gaand hai malik…” Rohan sobbed into the pillow. “Sirf Apki… Arslan please…aahh” “Please kya?” “Tez… aur tez chodo…” Arslan gave him exactly that. He fucked him harder, deeper, one hand sliding up to fist in Rohan’s hair and pull his head back. The other reached under and wrapped around Rohan’s neglected cock, stroking it in time with his thrusts.

“Nikal,” he commanded. “Cum for me randii.” Rohan came with a broken cry. His hole clamped down hard around Arslan’s cock as thick ropes of cum shot onto the sheet. Arslan fucked him through it without slowing, dragging the orgasm out until Rohan’s arms gave out and he collapsed onto the bed. Only then did Arslan pull out.

He turned Rohan onto his back again, lifted one of his legs, and pushed back inside slowly, watching Rohan’s oversensitive face. “Ab last,” he said, almost gently. “Tere andar nikalunga. Poora. I am gonna breed you like a bitch.” He fucked him slower now but deeper, eyes locked on Rohan’s. The brutality softened into something heavier; still dominant, still owning, but threaded with something that looked almost like reverence.

He leaned down and kissed Rohan while he thrust, swallowing every moan. When Arslan finally came, it was with a low, guttural sound against Rohan’s mouth. His cock pulsed deep inside, flooding Rohan with thick heat. He kept thrusting through it, shallow and possessive, until every drop was emptied. Then he stayed buried.

Both of them were breathing hard. Sweat-slick. Marked. Rohan’s hole twitched around the still-thick cock inside him. Arslan brushed damp hair from Rohan’s forehead and kissed him once, softer than anything that had come before. “Ab tu mera hai,” he said quietly. “Office mein, ghar mein, raat mein. mat bhoolna.”

Rohan’s voice was hoarse, wrecked, but clear. “Nahi bhoolunga honey” Arslan rolled them onto their sides without pulling out, pulled Rohan’s body tight against his chest, and wrapped both arms around him. His cock twitched one last time inside the warm, cum-filled heat. Outside, Mumbai moved on with its night.

Inside the small flat, Rohan closed his eyes, completely owned, completely full, and for the first time in months felt exactly where he belonged.