Page 122 of Role Play
“Say it,” he demands, his thumb dragging across my lower lip. “I need to hear you say you understand.”
“I understand.” I swallow hard. “I only want…you.”
That’s all it takes to unleash him. His mouth crashes down on mine, hungry and demanding. There’s nothing gentle about this kiss—it’s all teeth and tongue and desperation. I arch into him, matching his intensity, letting myself surrender to the sheer force of what’s between us.
With graceful ease, he spins me around to face the tree, my cheek pressed against the rough bark. I hear the metallic clink of a belt buckle being undone, then the rustle of fabric. His hands slide down my sides, peeling off my tight leggings. Abandoning his grisly demeanor for a minute, he carefully helps me kick off my boots and pull off my bottoms.
For a moment, I thought he forgot about my underwear, or maybe he doesn’t want this to go as far as I do. But then I’m pushed back against the tree in my previous position, him pressing against me from behind. “These are in my way,” he complains, his breath hot against my ear. Without warning, he hooks his fingers into the waistband and tears the delicate fabric apart.
I gasp at the sudden exposure to the cool night air, but the chill is immediately replaced by the heat of his palm against my bare skin, exploring, teasing. “Forrest, someone could see.”
“It turns me on,” he answers promptly. “Let them watch. Get a glimpse of what’s all mine, and what they can never, ever have.”
The way he’s talking makes me swell with need. We’re alone, not a living soul in sight, but what’s more concerning…even if there were, I don’t know if we could stop.
“You’re so wet. Tell me, baby, do you get wet for me orstaywet for me?” he growls, his fingers finding proof of my arousal. “Bet you dream about my hard cock all day, don’t you? Is that why you’re such a good girl? You want to be rewarded?”
In one fluid motion, he drops to his knees behind me, hands gripping my hips to steady me. I barely have time to process what’s happening before I feel his mouth on me, his tongue exploring my most intimate places with devastating precision.
“Oh sweet hell,” I moan, my fingers grappling at the tree bark.
The sensation of his mouth against me is overwhelming—hot and insistent, his tongue flicking and circling with expert knowledge of what will drive me to the edge. His hands knead the flesh of my ass, spreading me wider for his ministrations. The cool night air contrasts with the heat of his breath, creating a cascade of sensations that makes my knees buckle.
He devours me like a man starved, his tongue circling my clit in exquisite, deliberate patterns that have me seeing stars. When he adds suction, I cry out involuntarily, the sound echoing through the trees. Birds scatter from a nearby branch, startled by my vocalization.
My legs begin to tremble, and just when I think they might give out, he slides two fingers inside me, curving them in a “come hither” motion that hits exactly the right spot. The dual sensation—his tongue relentless against my clit, his fingers delving inside me—sends waves of pleasure radiating from my core.
“Oh god,” I pant, the tension building low in my belly. “I’m going to?—”
“Not yet,” he commands, suddenly withdrawing. Before I can protest the loss, he’s standing again, spinning me to face him. “Hands,” he says, holding up the handcuffs.
I extend my wrists without hesitation, watching as he secures the metal around them. The cuffs aren’t tight enough to hurt but snug enough that I can’t slip free. The constraint is deliciously erotic, as we fall into something more intimate than anything we’ve done before.His control. My surrender.
The metal is cold against my skin, the weight unfamiliar but not unpleasant. Each tiny movement causes the chain connecting the cuffs to jingle softly, a constant reminder of my willing captivity. I test their strength, pulling slightly, and feel a thrill at the unyielding resistance.
“Put your arms around my neck,” he instructs, and I comply, the cuffs forcing my arms to remain together as they encircle him.
With my arms raised, he takes the opportunity to yank up the top of my chunky cream sweater and wireless bra, exposing my breasts to the moonlight. His eyes darken as he takes in the sight.
“Perfect,” he admires, before lowering his head to take one nipple into his mouth. The wet heat of his tongue sends electricity coursing through me, and I arch into the feeling, my bound hands pulling him closer.
The contrast of sensations is unnerving—the cool metal of the handcuffs, the rough texture of the tree bark against my back, and the hot pressure of his mouth on my sensitive flesh. He alternates between gentle suction and the sharpness of his teeth, bringing me to the razor’s edge between pleasure and pain.
While his mouth works its magic on my breast, his hand scopes back between my legs, resuming its earlier rhythm. Hisfingers find me slick and ready, circling my entrance before plunging back inside. The dual sensation is mind-blowing, and I find myself racing toward the edge again.
“Please,” I beg, not entirely sure what I’m asking for.
Forrest understands. He withdraws long enough to undo his pants fully, freeing himself. Even in the dim moonlight, I can see how hard he is, how ready. The sight of him—powerful, aroused, barely controlled—sends another rush of heat through me.
“Are you on birth control?” he asks, the question so practical amidst our primal encounter that I almost laugh.
“Yes,” I confirm.
“I don’t have a condom, Sora. If we’re going to do this, it’s just us and trust. You want it, or you want to stop?”
“Don’t you dare stop,” I say, pouting. “Us and trust.I want it.”
With that logistical hurdle cleared, he lifts me effortlessly, my back pressed against the tree for leverage. I wrap my legs around his waist, the position opening me up to him perfectly. The bark scrapes against my exposed skin, a rough counterpoint to the smoothness of his body against mine.
