Temptation's Playground のすべてのチャプター: チャプター 21 - チャプター 30

CHAPTER 3 — MIDNIGHT STACKSThe message came at 8:47 p.m. the same day, only hours after he’d left those red lines on my thighs and walked away like nothing happened.Library. Special collections. Back corner. 9:30. Don’t keep me waiting.My stomach flipped. I was still in my dorm, trying to focus on revisions that weren’t happening. My body was too wired, too sensitive. Every shift in my chair reminded me of his fingers, the cool pen, the way he’d edged me until I was begging and then stopped.I didn’t even change. Just grabbed my bag and went same short skirt, same thin blouse, panties still missing because I knew he’d check.The library was open until 10 p.m. for grad students, but special collections was quieter. I swiped my card at the gate, heart pounding as the door beeped. The room was dim, green banker lamps glowing on the long tables, shelves towering high with rare books behind glass. A couple of students were at the front, heads down, but the back corner was empty.I walke

CHAPTER 5 — LECTURE HALL ECHOESHe pulled me up slow after I swallowed every drop, his hand still tangled in my hair, stroking now instead of gripping. His kiss was deep, lazy, tasting himself on my tongue. I moaned into his mouth soft, needy my body still buzzing from taking control, from making him lose it.He groaned into the kiss low, rough, the sound vibrating through my chest. His tongue stroked mine, slow and possessive, like he was claiming back what I’d just taken.His tongue stroked mine slow, filthy, tasting himself mixed with me. I moaned into his mouth again deeper this time, my hands sliding up his chest, fingers digging into his shirt. I could feel his heart pounding under my palms, matching mine.He groaned back longer, rougher his hands gripping my ass, pulling me flush against him. I felt how hard he still was thick, pressing against my stomach through his trousers.I ground against him shamelessly.He broke the kiss, breath ragged against my lips.“You’re trying to

CHAPTER 2 The room is too quiet.Not the comforting kind. The kind that presses against your ears until you start hearing your own thoughts too clearly.Dr. Elias Crowe doesn’t rush to fill it.He sits across from me, legs crossed neatly, hands relaxed on his knee. No clipboard. No pen. Just his eyes ,steady, patient, unreadable.I hate that.My palms are damp. I press them against my thighs, smoothing the fabric of my skirt like it matters. My blouse feels too tight across my chest, the silk clinging to my skin from the heat building inside me. I’m not cold. I’m burning.“So,” he says at last, voice calm, almost gentle. “Last session, you mentioned the panic starts when you feel out of control.”I nod. My fingers twist together in my lap, knuckles whitening.“And when you try to name the thought,” he continues, leaning back slightly, “it disappears.”“Yes.”“Today,” he says, eyes never leaving mine, “I want you to say it out loud anyway.”My chest tightens instantly. The familiar

The week between sessions was pure hell.I swore I wouldn’t come back. I lied to myself every fucking day.Every morning I woke up already soaked, thighs clamped, fingers buried inside before my eyes even opened properly. I came hard and fast, choking his name into the pillow like a dirty prayer. It was never enough. Never close.By appointment day I was already ruined.Black pencil skirt. Thin silk blouse. Heels that could kill. No jewellery except the slim gold watch that costs more than rent. Armour. Didn’t help for shit.I arrived exactly on time.He opened the door. No hello. Just eyes that fucked me before I crossed the threshold.“Come in.”Door shut. Lock clicked.He didn’t sit. He just stood there, filling the space.“Jacket off.”I peeled it slowly, hung it. His gaze tracked every inch like he owned the skin underneath.“Couch.”I sat.He didn’t take the armchair. He dropped beside me—thigh pressed hot and heavy against mine.My pulse slammed into my throa

CHAPTER 6His hands were on my face and his mouth crashed into mine. I moaned loudly into the kiss. His tongue stroked mine, deep and claiming. He tasted like rain and coffee and him. I pressed my body against his, molding to every hard line.He walked me backward, shut the door, and kept walking me toward the bedroom. My robe slipped open. Neither of us cared. He lifted me, hands firm under my ass, and carried me the rest of the way. I wrapped my legs around his waist without breaking the kiss.He dropped me onto the bed. The robe fell away completely. Damn, this robe was a paid actor.I lay there naked. He stood at the foot of the bed, eyes dark, breathing hard. Then he dropped to his knees, pulled me to the edge, and spread my legs wide.He pressed kisses along my thighs, trailing higher until his mouth was on me. Hot. Wet. Hungry. His tongue licked me slowly, deep, tasting every inch.I fisted the sheets.“Elias… fuck… God… shit.”He groaned against my pussy. The vibration made me