Heat

Chapter 13 - Satin

The kiss lasted an eternity. Zoro was in a world of lust and sweat, lost under a cascade of corn silk hair. He lost his sense of time, he lost his sense of direction and he lost his pants.

Nimble fingers undid the buttons and eased the fabric of Zoro’s trousers over his hips, tugging it past his knees. With a few deft caresses by Sanji’s soft hands he ended up naked, spread eagled on the huge satin bed; completely exposed to whatever the cook had in store for him.

Covered only in a thin sheen of sweat, Zoro silently egged Sanji on. He didn’t know what the cook had planned but he wanted it.

The said cook was standing at the foot of the bed, casually throwing Zoro’s underwear over his shoulder. Sanji blew him a kiss and walked up to the bed, his hands running tenderly up his chest. His hair was slightly ruffled, a few errant strands catching the candlelight and gleaming gold.

So far it wasn’t so bad… Sanji was his glorious self, long long legs and perfect muscles all around. The green of his harem pants set off the bronze of his skin, blessed by the desert sun. Very sexy. His attitude was exciting too, Zoro never knew what to expect. Sanji was hot one minute and raging cold the next. He was the definition of a temperamental blonde.

The swordsman was pleased with his restraint. Despite Sanji partially stripping off and playing with himself, Zoro had managed not to tear the cook’s remaining clothes off and pin him to the floor.

Undisciplined?! He would show the cocky target-brow!

Zoro lounged back and looked at the canopy. It was composed of lots of see-through bits of material in complimentary colours all kind-of knotted together. There had to be some kind of fancy name for it, but to Zoro it just looked like once big-ass knot. He willed himself to silence and tried not to listen to certain parts of his anatomy that were loudly making their own plans…

He would not give in to his ever-present desire to tear the flimsy fabric from around Sanji’s hips, throw him over the nearest sofa and fuck him senseless.

He would let this sexy harem boy show off his skills. He needed a distraction from the situation with Nami and Zoro was more than happy to provide one.

How hard could it be?

He closed his eyes and felt the smooth sheets beneath his rough skin. As nice as it was to lie here in bed, Sanji seemed to be taking a while… Zoro looked down past his feet to see the cook pouring some lotion into the palm of his hand,

“Well?” Zoro huffed impatiently.

“Now…” Sanji slid up the bed and spilt the lotion on Zoro’s stomach; some kind of oil it seemed, “I’m going to play a little game with you, Marimo.”

Zoro propped himself up on one elbow, watching Sanji’s hands work as he rubbed the oil into Zoro’s dark chest muscles. Fingers explored his nipples, his pecs and travelled down his stomach, awakening certain parts of him that were getting louder in their plans by the second.

“Yeah? What sort of game?” The swordsman smirked. Sex games could be good.

“You have to stay completely still, no moving at all.”

What sort of a game was that?

“That doesn’t sound very fun,” Zoro ran the tips of his fingers up Sanji’s arms, fighting the urge to pull him back into an embrace.

“Well I think it’s going to be fun.”

Fun to lie around doing nothing like a barnacle? Is this the type of thing that the wealthy were doing in bed these days?

“So?” Zoro demanded, lifting his head up from the copious pillows.

“So you’re doing it!” Sanji said, with a manly gasp of indignation (which, to Zoro, sounded a lot like a squeak).

“Ok, ok…” the swordsman laughed as the cook turned slightly pink. He was so passionate and determined; so keen and over-zealous. “Whatever. I didn’t know that you liked starfish,” Zoro teased.

“You can’t do anything right, so it’s better if you stay still,” Sanji snapped. The cook leaned his weight over Zoro and pressed down on his naked oiled body, not enough to cause any discomfort, just enough to make a point. It was a sexy move, but one that said ‘do as I say,’ for Zoro of course, this made it twice as hot.

“Baka-cook,” Zoro muttered, admiring the lines of Sanji’s bared torso. His body was so finely toned, not a single inch of fat – a study in agility and strength. After dragging one appreciative finger over the sinuous muscles, Zoro let his body relax into the bed and wondered what Sanji had in store for him.

Idiot had better not try anything weird...

More warm oil was poured onto Zoro’s stomach and he could feel Sanji’s practiced hands begin to rub the lotion into his skin. He opened his eyes just a crack and the cook was naked - how he managed to get the last of his clothes off silently Zoro would never know - Sanji leaned over and allowed his arms to get covered in oil and make contact with Zoro’s sensitive skin, then he pressed their chests together… the warm oil made Sanji’s movements smooth as silk as he rolled his naked body over Zoro’s and lay down beside him, their legs entwined. Sanji’s fingers caressed the muscles of his stomach, hovering closer to his straining erection.

Sanji moved down steadily, dragging his oiled muscles against Zoro’s most sensitive parts. Once he had got the groan that he wanted to hear, the cook lifted his body to hover provocatively. He moved his mouth silently closer, breathing teasing puffs of air onto Zoro’s oiled cock.

Zoro closed his eyes and tried not to think about all of the things that he wanted to do to the cook right… now…

The cook’s fingers sunk between Zoro’s legs, starting at his knees and drawing slowly higher. The swordsman tensed just a little and the cook responded, his second oiled hand stroking a reassurance. As elegant fingers massaged Zoro’s concerns away, he remembered how much pleasure Sanji could really give… and lifted his hips off the bed. Sanji grinned and kissed Zoro’s pink tip as his fingers stroked up Zoro’s thigh. The swordsman could feel the warmth as the fingers lightly rimmed his opening and then stroked up his leg again, the teasing movements making him wet and oily. Sanji’s lips were closing around his tip and he slowly sunk back to the bed letting the sensation wash over him.

The cook’s lips were soft and wet, tight one minute and giving way to gentle licking the next. He was writhing on the bed as the cook took him deep when he felt the fingers push inside him. Sanji was gentle, he could feel the long fingers, solid and slick but there was no pain. They slid into him without protest, his back arching through pure instinct – his body riding the rush of pleasure and craving more.

Sanji probed firmly, teasing with his fingers and driving deeper when his movements elicited the moans that Zoro knew he loved so much. The swordsman tangled his fingers in the soft gold bolts of Sanji’s hair and moaned deeply, with the cook’s movements pressing his shoulders in to the soft pillows. The candlelight gleamed on Sanji’s naked flesh, beads of sweat slowly forming on his bronzed skin...

Zoro wanted to reciprocate, to sink his calloused fingers between the perfect globes of Sanji’s ass. It was so hard to just lie here, when all he could see was those gorgeous dimpled curves gleaming in the candlelight right before his eyes. Zoro slid his hand down Sanji’s back but the cook swatted it away, pressing his fingers in that glorious spot.

Oh, ero-cook… that is not helping.

“Sanji… Sanji…” he huffed out, as the cook slid deeper, rolling his knuckles and making Zoro’s cock twitch, “I want you now."

Sanji lifted his head slowly, his tongue tracing a rough wet circle around the head of Zoro’s tender erection. He took a minute to absorb the sight of the ruffled and spread-eagled swordsman. Zoro was naked, his best look. All oiled muscles and desperately spread legs, his manhood straining majestically above his chiselled stomach and making Sanji’s insides quiver. Zoro was a man who was born to be naked and horny, he looked tousled and raw, wild and sexy. Finally, Sanji lifted his red mouth from Zoro’s equally red cock,

“Then take me,” the cook whispered, licking his lips as he sunk back into the satin sheets. He angled his body in the light and the shadows caressed his every contour. He could show off his feminine curves to perfection with the clinging fabric of the sheets showing his girly waist and forever-legs… but all Zoro saw was the muscles, the long strong bones. Shins that would never break, shoulders that could bear any load. A man who was proud and fierce and bloody – a warrior.

All of Sanji’s fears and self-abasement was gone as he lay, legs spread with a look so smug… it was a face that belonged to a Prince, not a prostitute, the face of a man who had everything and damned well knew it.

“How are you so fucking hot?” Zoro mumbled as he buried his mouth into Sanji’s soft hair, finding his neck and biting it softly.

“Don’t know, how are you so fucking dense?”

Zoro growled and fixed one hand firmly on Sanji’s hip. Before the cook could protest, Zoro had swung himself to the covers, rolling the cook on top of him.

“Shut up and fuck me,” Zoro said, trying to look grumpy. He used the abrupt words to cover the feelings that he couldn’t express. He didn’t know why he wanted Sanji inside him, but it was something more than just lust.

“My pleasure…” Sanji grinned and moved his upper body, accommodating Zoro’s arms with ample room for thrashing.

Just for an instant, Sanji’s confidant demeanour slipped, “Are you sure you want..?” The cook asked, his voice trailing off hesitantly.

Stupid sweet idiot.

“I’m not going to say it twice,” Zoro huffed, prodding the cook with his erection.

Sanji leaned over and kissed Zoro gently, Zoro responded by biting his lips, hard and pulling Sanji’s body closer.

“Now… now…” Sanji chastised. He slid his hand between Zoro’s legs and moved them apart; Zoro encouraged him with groans as Sanji explored all his favourite places. Zoro felt Sanji’s fingers plunge into him again as the cook rolled his lean muscled body on top. For a brief, glorious minute, Sanji’s cock rubbed his as the cook massaged him from the inside. He let his head fall back onto the pillow and groaned gutturally as the fingers found their mark.

“You sound good…” Sanji whispered.

Zoro could feel the solid presence of Sanji’s fingers withdraw, replaced by the softer but much larger insistence of the cook’s heat. Wet with oil, Sanji was pure delight; the swordsman shifted his hips in welcome and kissed the cook with gasping eagerness. Sanji’s fingers moved to Zoro’s cock, slowly pumping to ease the tension as he slid deeper into the swordsman. Zoro moaned and pulled Sanji closer, squeezing down on him and making Sanji stop mid-stroke.

“Why are you so… fucking… tight…?” Sanji gasped into Zoro’s ear, still frozen on the spot.

Before Zoro could think of an answer, Sanji thrust deep, he kissed Zoro fiercely and drew his hips back, moving one leg and driving his knee into the bed to get traction. Zoro felt his ass being raised off the mattress and put his hands back to brace himself on the bed head. The intensity of Sanji’s movements was exquisite, his whole body tingled with the rush of each thrust and every tiny feeling – the movement of the bed, the heat of Sanji’s body, the sharp points of his nails – was almost too much. So much sensation, so much pleasure that it was almost pain, a wave of longing, of desire magnified by the heat of Sanji inside him.

“Why are you so fucking rough?” Zoro gasped as the cook pushed him backwards into the pile of bedding his elbow locked on the bed head and he came to a stop, he could feel their hips grinding together and Sanji’s cock pressing hard inside him. The sweat between them was making the bed hot and sticky as Sanji lifted him higher and higher off the mattress.

“You like… me rough…” Sanji thrust harder, driving his point home.

Zoro could feel the cook raking his insides, harder than he thought his body could withstand but all it wanted was more, he could feel the rawness of his insides, but he just wanted Sanji harder. He dug his fingernails into Sanji’s hips and put his own strength into the stroke, two bodies working in concert, driving together like a storm.

Beyond talking, they let their bodies communicate, pulling and pushing and moving with each other to get more friction, more feeling… Sanji’s hands on Zoro’s shoulders, pulling him down, driving him on… Sanji’s gasping was becoming erratic but Zoro never tired, he opened his body to the onslaught, letting the cook’s hardness pierce him, letting the strong body take over. He had never let a lover take him so completely, never opened his body so wide or felt so naked, so raw with lust and need. As the heat built inside him, he could feel Sanji tense; his thrusts became harder, slower, more desperate with heat and force.

Sanji’s nails dragged down his back as he ground himself in to the swordsman with all the strength of his deadly legs. Zoro felt the cook’s hard cock grind along the ridges of his insides and shudders of pleasure like he had never known rocked him deeply. As the cook pressed in, he felt the heat as Sanji came, the cook swearing and cursing, all fire and passion. The final thrust sent Zoro over the edge, the heat and force of Sanji’s orgasm and the hot gasps in his ear… as Sanji collapsed, Zoro convulsed with pleasure, writhing around the hot pulsing that impaled him.

Finally his body ceased to twitch and Zoro’s breathing returned to normal. He blew a few fine strands of blonde hair from his face and laughed at the top of Sanji’s head.

“What now, Marimo?” Sanji asked, his voice dry but affectionate, leaving his body just where it was, still definitely inside Zoro.

Zoro pulled the cook close and in the process rubbed his cock across Sanji’s now-wet stomach.

“Don’t do that, now it’s everywhere,” Sanji complained, still huffing gently from the force of his orgasm.

Zoro pulled him closer to enjoy the sweet puffs of Sanji’s breath on his cheeks; he nuzzled through the haze of soft blonde hair and whispered in Sanji’s ear,

“I like it dirty.”

“I bet you do. Ugh! I’m all sticky…”

“Sorry,” Zoro said, looking deep into sky blue eyes.

So not sorry.

“Did you just apologise? You must be sick Marimo,” Sanji teased.

“You’re right,” Zoro said gravely, waiting long enough for Sanji’s cocky expression to change, “Never again.” The swordsman grinned at the cook’s puzzled frown and moved his body, gently separating the two.

“I’m sure that there will always be next time, a slut like you has to have their fill,” Sanji grinned at the inherent irony of the joke and still made no move to leave Zoro’s arms.

Zoro snorted gruffly at this rude suggestion and hugged Sanji close to him.

“Nothing to say to that, Marimo?” Sanji muttered, sleepily, always keen to get the last word.

“Shut up and go to sleep,” Zoro growled, holding Sanji in a vice-like grip.

“But I want to have a cigarette at least… Zoro?” Sanji said loudly, but he was too late. The room was filled with nothing but the smell of summer jasmine mixed with sex, and the sound of Zoro snoring.

“Stupid Marimo,” Sanji said to the candlelit room.

Nami… Will she really be ok? The Emperor might be generous, but she had tried to steal one of his most precious relics…

Sanji sighed and tried to move, Zoro pulled him even closer. Pretty soon the idiot would be cutting off his circulation. The cook smiled despite himself at the sight of Zoro’s sleeping face. He looked dumb as ever. And happy.

It was hard to worry when Zoro was here.

When did I become so reliant on the idiot anyway? Sanji huffed and grumbled, loosening one arm and finally reaching his cigarettes.

He put one slender white stick between his lips and lit up with a lighter he had produced from a very practiced nowhere.

Stupid Marimo.

But between Zoro and Luffy, somehow it seemed like everything would be all right. He felt like a hopeless fool for putting so much faith in them. They were both idiots who relied on brute force, not like his Nami-swan… and her plan had failed. It was stupid. It was stupid and idiotic and he would lecture himself a lot when this was all over but right now…

With all of them together…

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