Roommate Bonding Time (Remastered) | CH. 3
Hold on tight, we're falling over the edge of no return ...
This is a steamy MM romance intended for mature readers over the age of eighteen featuring shibari, BDSM, and roommates who discover they aren’t as straight as they thought. All characters are consenting adults.
Reader discretion is advised. This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, and events are products of the author’s imagination.
© 2026 Josiah B Vale
All rights reserved.
Based on the viral story posted on josiahbvale.com.
Want to read the full book with no wait? Grab it here now!
CHAPTER THREE
To my surprise, it didn’t take long.
“Please, Evan,” It was Milo who cracked first.
He shifted in my grip, the ropes groaning as he pressed his body back into mine, almost my whole dickhead sank into him. His head turned, brown eyes locking with mine over his shoulder, burning with need.
He rasped, voice low but unyielding. “I’ve always wanted this …” His gaze darkened, dropping for a split second before snapping back up. “I know it might sound weird but … I’ve craved you … and I need you now.” My eyes widened. “I want you inside me.”
The words slammed into me, knocking the breath from my lungs, melting me under the heat of his plea.
He rolled his hips back slow, until the head of my dick was now fully swallowed by his hole, this time no mistaking the intent.
“Fuck yes,” he moaned, a smirk curling his lips. “Grab on. Let’s see if these ropes can hold up to a real pounding.”
His bound thighs flexed under my hands, muscles straining as he pushed himself further against me, his hole flexing and loosening, teasing the head of my cock with impossible precision, sending waves of blinding ecstasy through my entire being. The desire to sink in deeper turned into a desperate, urgent need.
Above us, Dante’s laugh rolled out, low and dark, a predator satisfied with his prey. He tilted his head, eyes darting between Milo and me.
“Well now,” he purred, voice slow and dangerous, “we ain’t got lube to make this easy … so you’d better prep him good, Evan. I won’t have you breaking our new toy.”
The last thread of control I’d been gripping all night severed under Dante’s command. I leaned down, hands clamping on Milo’s asscheeks, instinct taking over.
I stuck out my tongue, pushing between those thick, firm cheeks, and dragged it over Milo’s hole.
A raw, guttural sound ripped from Milo’s chest, like he’d been holding it in for years. I pushed deeper, tongue slipping in and out, circling and teasing with reverence.
“Oh … fuck … I’ve never—” Milo’s voice broke, splintering into a deep, shuddering laugh of pure relief. “Goddamn, I’ve been waiting for this my whole fucking life.”
Across the room, Chris let out a low whistle, his tone half-amused, half-strained.
“This is … gay as fuck,” he muttered, then smirked, “but hot, I ain’t gonna lie. I’m feeling kinda neglected over here.” Pre-cum poured from his throbbing cock now, pooling on the floor.
Dante’s predator gaze turned to Chris. He sauntered over slow and reached up, tracing a taunting circle over the ropes crisscrossing Chris’s chest. Leaning in, his mouth grazed one pec, lips clamping around a nipple just long enough to wrench a deep, helpless groan from Chris’s throat.
Dante looked up at his blonde roommate with the body of a Greek god, his expression pure, wicked mischief. “So … you want me to touch you somewhere else, huh?” His tone was a mocking dare. “Lower?”
Chris’s jaw tightened, but he didn’t answer.
“Don’t make me force it out of you,” Dante said softly, voice laced with threat, his hand drifting lower, brushing just at the edge where the ropes framed Chris’s straining cock. But still, Chris said nothing.
“You’ll beg, or you’ll get nothing.” Dante lingered close, his fingertips lazily tracing his stomach.
“See, Milo’s got no shame, he asked for exactly what he wanted,” Dante said, throwing a glance over his shoulder at us.
“Evan’s already losing it. But you …” His eyes snapped back to Chris, piercing. “You’re still fighting me. But you don’t get a fucking thing until you grovel for it.”
Chris’s shoulders strained against the ties, muscles bulging. “I don’t beg,” he growled, but the strain in his voice betrayed him.
“Wrong,” Dante hissed, stepping closer, his hand settling on the knot just above Chris’s cock, pressing the ropes tighter into his skin. “You will.”
Chris swallowed hard, eyes darting to Milo—flushed, bound, pressed against my face—then to me, then back to Dante. The ropes creaked as his hips shifted, his need obvious.
“Not gonna say it,” Chris muttered, but the fight was nearly gone from his tone.
Dante’s smile was vicious, a king claiming his due. He leaned in, voice dropping to a lethal purr. “I can see how fucking desperate you are. Say the words, or I’ll leave you hanging there, aching, leaking.”
Chris’s jaw locked, breath heaving. Silence stretched.
“… Please.” It was barely audible, forced out under his breath.
Dante tilted his head, feigning confusion, his dominance suffocating. “Please what, boy?”
Chris exhaled, sharp and frustrated, eyes slamming shut for a second before meeting Dante’s gaze with reluctant surrender. “Please … touch my dick. Get me off.”
Whatever came next, there was no pretending we didn’t want it anymore.
