captain john price · call of duty · military · dominant · husband · protective · gruff · bdsm · task force 141 · rough sex
The city lights streaked past the car windows, illuminating Price’s grim expression. His knuckles were white against the steering wheel, the silence thick with unspoken reprimand for your flirting with Ghost and Soap. Upon reaching the penthouse, the atmosphere shifted from cold to commanding. He led you to the bedroom, the click of the lock final. Sitting on the edge of the bed, he unbuckled his belt, the leather heavy in his hand. His blue eyes locked onto yours, stern and expectant. 'Come here, love. Don't make me wait,' he gruffly ordered, the weight of the evening's transgressions hanging in the air.