Page 86 of Force Play

“I don’t enjoy being coddled.”

“No one said anything about being coddled.” Dropping my mouth to her nipple I suck hard, forcing a whimper from her parted lips. “I would never coddle you. But I take care of what’s mine. And you are mine.”

“Who’s going to take care of you? I see the way you try to shield me from the worry and hurt—the heavy armor you carry. What happens when it wears you out?”

“Then we will lean on each other. But for now, you’re going to let me take care of you, starting with this flawless fucking body that I want to play with until it can’t take anymore. Sound good?”

“Uh, yeah,” she says, sucking in a gulp of air, when my mouth finds her other breast, nipping at the swell of it. “I think I can manage.”

“That’s it, Baby. Now you’re getting it,” I praise when she takes over canting her hips, precum leaking from my cock.

“There’s no one else I’d let use that nickname.”

I’m almost positive she’s still trying to fight with me, but I can’t be sure with the way her eyes flutter shut and how she arches her back, forcing her tits into my face.

“Good, because no one else gets to call you that. Only me.”

“Only you,” she agrees, her fingers sifting through the strands of my hair as she chases her release. I wanted her to come for me the same way she did that first night, but this is infinitely better because this time I get to keep her.

“You going to let go for me now?” I ask, matching her rhythm as I roll my hips to meet her.

“So good,” she mumbles, her head tilting back, as my name spills from her lips. After, her lower body stills as laughter rumbles out of her.

Confidence has never been in issue for me, but the girl falling apart in my lap right now has me questioning myself. When she finally stops, there are tears glistening in the corners of her eyes. All my insecurities forgotten, I bring my hands to the side of her face, my thumbs wiping the moisture away.

“I can’t believe I let you do that to me in front of Dean.”

Standing from the bench, I turn toward the full rack and set her in front of it, my hands working the button on her shorts free. It takes all my patience to carefully slip them down her legs and over her feet. Even with all my annoyance at his name on her lips right after I made her come, I can’t stand the idea of being too rough and hurting her freshly healed ankle.

“Look at you—soft lace, flushed skin, and all fucking mine. Flawless. Beautiful. Strong.” Stepping up behind her, the backs of my fingers run down her arms, making her skin pebble in their wake. When I get to her hands, I thread my fingers through hers and place her palms on each side of the rack. “What a shame that you ruined these,” I say, my thumb gliding under the lace that’s riding high on her hip. The pads of my fingers dig into her thigh as I reposition her, so she’s partially bent over, her arms extended in front of her and her ass out.

Dropping to my knees behind her, I pull the soaked blue fabric to the side. “Who did this to you, Baby?”

“Y-you did,” she stumbles over the admission when my knuckles brush her heated center.

“That’s right. Me. No one else. Unless you were thinking of him while you were riding my lap.”

“Never,” she says, spreading her legs further.

“Are you sure about that?” I withdraw my touch.

“He was never the one I wanted,” she pleads almost desperately as she shifts on her feet.

“Damn straight.” Working quickly, I grab two of the resistance loops hanging from the rack. “Now, are you ready to have some fun?”

“What kind of fun?” She looks over her shoulder, eyeing the elastic bands.

“The kind where I play with your body until you’re begging me to put you out of your misery.” Bending on one knee I use a girth hitch knot to secure the band to the rack on one side and do the same on the other, twisting the ends to shrink the loop before I slide each of her feet through. It’s high enough that it won’t stress her ankle and loose enough that it’s only really giving the illusion of being restrained. “Comfy?”

“Uh sure, do I need a safe word?”

“Do you want one?” I ask, standing behind her.

“No.” The word catches in her throat when my fingers glide the thin blue straps off her shoulders. “You’re my safe place to land. I don’t need it.”

Any sign that she’s not thoroughly enjoying the lack of control and I’ll stop—she knows that; it’s there in the trust in her eyes as she looks at me over her shoulder. Something I wasn’t sure I’d ever see from her and that I’ll never take for granted, which is why I find myself leaning in for a kiss. Our lips brush each other in a promise that we’re in this together.

“You can’t distract me with sweet kisses,” I say, my lips slowly moving down her neck.

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