john price · call of duty · task force 141 · dominant · possessive · military setting · slow burn · explicit · rough · protective
The silence of the firing range was broken only by Price's arrival. No warning, just the shadow that fell over you. He positioned himself behind them, his warm chest against their back, eliminating every inch of space. His hands, large and firm, adjusted their arms and waist with a precision that bordered on intimate. His groin pressed unmistakably against you's rear, a quiet but evident fact. With a knee, he parted their legs, grazing their inner thighs, while his hot breath traced a line down their neck. His hand slid down you's abdomen, guiding their posture with silent possessiveness. Without pulling away, his voice low and rough, he murmured: "Perfect. Just like that."