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　　. ADAE• 20• student!

MASTERLIST • RULES

•.𝐭𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐬 𝐝𝐫𝐲 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐨𝐰𝐧.•

Previous part — part5

NDA: Finally, after a year, here’s the continuation!! Thanks for your patience!

YN MCKAY

Whether you liked it or not, Rafe had an effect on you. Just being seen with him at that party had boosted your popularity — even though that was never your goal.

But Nate hadn’t changed.

Same clingy stare, same endless questions.

He’d tried to get you to spill what really happened at the party, and out of boredom — or maybe exhaustion — you eventually told him the truth.

Mistake.

He should’ve been disgusted. Instead, he got obsessed.

And the more he pushed, the more you wanted to make him pay for his sick curiosity.

You had no choice left. You had to strike. Strike hard, where it hurts.

That afternoon, you were waiting for Rafe outside the stadium.

You knew Nate could see you.

That was the whole point.

You wanted him to burn with rage, to feel powerless.

When practice ended, the players started coming out one by one. Sitting right next to the entrance, you could feel their eyes on you — almost every single one staring, their gaze inevitably drifting down to your chest, even though you’d tried to hide it under a plain t-shirt.

Finally, you spotted Rafe and ran toward him. Backward cap, shirt clinging to his skin, that cocky smile already curling on his lips.

You straightened up and called out: “Cameron!”

He turned instantly, eyebrow raised, that usual mix of surprise and arrogant calm he wore like a cologne.

He jogged over, towel slung across his shoulder.

“McKay? What are you doing here?”

He towered over you by at least a head. You could smell him — the locker room, sweat, and some sharp cologne. Your heart pounded. You forced yourself to stand straight, to hide the nerves eating you alive.

Rafe tilted his head, tongue brushing his gum — his tell, a tic that meant he found the situation funny, or was holding back a laugh.

“Didn’t get enough last time?” he said with a smirk.

You shot him a glare and sighed, your foot tapping against the pavement. “.Seriously, Rafe, I really need your help with this.”

He sighed back, ran a hand through his hair.

“You’re the one who offered to help me first, remember?” you snapped.

Why was he acting like this, when it had been his idea in the first place?

“Alright, calm down, drama queen,” he said, raising his hands.

You tapped your foot even harder, annoyed, which made him frown.

“Give me your phone,” he said, holding out his hand.

“Why?” you asked, mostly because you needed to feel in control — even though you’d lost that a long time ago.

“I’ll give you my address. Come by tonight, we’ll talk it over properly.”

The house already looked like a trap before you even rang the bell. Big facade, team flag flapping in the wind — the kind of place built to impress.

“After you,” he said simply.

Inside smelled like beer, sweat, and cheap disinfectant.

Trophies lined up on a shelf, red cups scattered across the coffee table. You walked past the living room where two massive guys were playing a zombie video game.

One turned when he heard your steps. You slowed down, raising a hand timidly.

“Hi…” you said, voice small.

The guy took a drag from his joint and raised an eyebrow. Rafe turned around too.

“Oh, Y/N, this is Vincent,” he said, pointing at him.

Vincent frowned. “Y/N… as in Y/N McKay?”

You nodded quickly. He turned to Rafe, annoyed.

“Dude, what the fuck, why are you bringing Nate’s girl here?”

The door swung open to reveal Rafe, closer and more intimidating than ever. Gray sweatpants hanging dangerously low on his hips, tight black t-shirt, eyes locked on you like you were prey. He gestured you inside with an exaggerated bow.

His friend beside him looked you up and down before whistling.

“Damn, Nate wasn’t lying about you, doll.”

You were about to answer, but Rafe stepped closer, resting his hand on your shoulder like you were some trophy he was showing off. The gesture was both protective and humiliating — he was claiming you in front of them.

“Tell Nate he’s welcome to come by, Rafe said. But Y/N and I have… stuff to settle upstairs.”

Without waiting for a reply, he pulled you along, guiding you upstairs.

His room was just like him: organized chaos. Clothes everywhere, trophies, a baseball bat propped against the wall.

“Nice place,” you muttered, sitting on the bed, arms crossed.

Rafe opened a drawer, pulled out a joint and a lighter, lit it, took a few drags, then offered it to you. You ignored it. He sighed.

“What’s your thing with Nate?” he asked.

You turned to him.

“My “thing” is a guy I never encouraged, but who doesn’t understand what no means.”

Rafe laughed softly — no humor in it.

“Yeah, he put a veto on you.”

You frowned. “A what?”

“Like… no one’s allowed to touch you. You’re his property.”

You looked at him, puzzled. Your faces were close now. His blue eyes searched yours, unreadable. You let out a nervous laugh.

Pathetic.

He said the word veto like it was funny, and your throat tightened. The idea that someone thought they could own you made you sick.

“Seriously? That guy’s insane.”

Rafe looked at you for a long moment, his blue eyes cutting through you. Then, out of nowhere—

“You sleep with Nate?” he asked, breaking the silence.

You blinked, stunned.

“Excuse me?”

He raised his eyebrows. “I mean, that’s the only explanation. Dude’s obsessed with your pussy.”

You shot to your feet, furious.

“No, I didn’t sleep with him, Rafe! Are you insane?”

Rafe burst out laughing and flopped back onto the bed.

Your “no” was sharp, almost hysterical. You wanted to slap him for even asking — and because the look in his eyes suggested he thought you might be lying.

He chuckled, took your silence as proof.

“He’s obsessed. Obsessed with the idea that you’re his. Talks like you’re some prize he’s gonna win back.”

His lips twisted, like he was chewing bitterness.You stood, anger flooding your veins. His words made you want to puke.

“Stop talking about him like that. You don’t even know him.”

You wanted to scream that you didn’t want any of this either — but anger spoke louder than fear.

He watched you, almost amused, like he was surprised to see you finally show some fire. Then he straightened up, smoke curling around his face.

“ Alright. No more half-measures. If you want him to back off, we gotta give him something to choke on. Make him believe you’re mine — go full force.”

He grinned. “Sleep with me.”

You stared at him, speechless, then threw one of his t-shirts at his face. He caught it easily, laughing.

“Worth a shot,” he said, tossing it back at you.

You sat down next to him again.

“If you ask me, we should pretend to be dating.”

You rolled your eyes.

“This isn’t some cheesy teen show, Rafe.”

It was completely stupid. Dating Rafe was like walking into the wolf’s den. He was only doing it to piss Nate off — you were sure of it.

And yet, Nate was getting unbearable; your roommate had to lie for you multiple times just to keep him from showing up.

“We fake date?” you repeated, the words echoing like a sentence.

“Yeah. We go public. Make it official. Shut him the fuck down.”

He said it like it was a game he’d already won. His smile was hungry — the kind of smile that belonged to someone who loved breaking things.

You wanted to spit in his face. You wanted to scream that this was a terrible idea, that you refused to be a pawn.

But you also knew Nate wouldn’t stop without something drastic.

And Rafe, for all his disgusting arrogance, might be your only weapon — he knew how to manipulate attention, how to press people’s buttons.

You realized you were negotiating.

Here, in this room that smelled like sweat and smoke, you could choose to expose yourself just to get a little space back.

It made your stomach twist, but it was the dirtiest, most effective move.

“Fine,” you muttered, voice low, almost to yourself.

You felt the sting of the decision — shame mixed with adrenaline. You said yes not because you liked him, but because you wanted it to stop. You wanted Nate gone. You wanted the pressure to end.

You stared at the ceiling, thinking about the stupidity of it all — and the necessity. You imagined Nate pacing, raging, begging; Rafe grinning, feeding off the chaos he’d helped create.

And you — caught in between disgust and power.

Rafe smiled, not kindly. He knew you’d agreed, that the play was his now.

And for a moment, you felt the air around you split. Everything was about to get bigger, messier, darker.

You let yourself fall back on the bed, heart hammering. You knew you might’ve just sold a part of yourself to breathe again.

But maybe, if you played it right, you could flip the script.

Rafe was dangerous.

Nate was sick.

And you — you might just be smart enough to survive both.

A car engine roared outside. You didn’t need to look to know whose it was.

Rafe took one last drag, then stubbed the joint out in the ashtray by the bed.

“Guess Prince Charming’s here”, he said with a mocking grin.

You turned to him, nervous. He stood up.

“Take off your shirt”, he ordered, pulling his own off.

You froze. “Are you out of your mind?!”

You stopped dead when you saw his torso — not six, but eight perfectly sculpted abs.

“You wanna piss Nate off or not?” he asked with a smirk.

“Yeah…”

“Then take off your shirt.” You groaned, but did it.

Rafe arched an eyebrow, genuinely surprised. He realized your chest really was that full, not just boosted by a bra. His surprise turned to a flicker of admiration, his gaze lingering for a second on the beauty mark above your left breast.

Footsteps sounded in the hallway — and before you could say anything, Rafe crushed his lips against yours.

Limping

Things between you and Rafe were tense.

Ever since you had gone through his things without his permission, he’d turned cold. He still fucked you hard, brutally, but never with tenderness. He didn’t even bother to clean you up afterwards anymore. He just left you lying there, trembling in the sheets, while he went to sleep in his office.

It wasn’t fair. He should have punished you, made you pay for it, not ignored you like you were nothing. You had the right to look through his things. It wasn’t fair.

Tonight, you and Rafe were going to a reception on the island. Something at the country club. You couldn’t refuse — not with Rafe, not with what was left of his family. So you did everything you could to look presentable: perfect makeup, designer dress. The only problem was… you could barely walk straight.

The night before, he hadn’t been gentle. Not at all. He had been too rough, too cruel. You hadn’t even seen his face because he’d shoved yours so deep into the pillow you could barely breathe.

Your eyes landed on the heels Rafe had given you months ago, meant for a dinner out. A dinner that had never happened. Canceled for a last-minute mission, even on Valentine’s Day.

You rose onto your tiptoes with difficulty, your hips screaming in pain. Your arm couldn’t even reach the bottom of the shelf. It must have been him who had put them away, that night you ignored him like he was nothing more than a stranger.

Stretching further, a grimace twisted your face. No, he really hadn’t been gentle.

So lost in your own head, you didn’t hear the footsteps behind you. A hand suddenly pressed against your hip, forcing you to straighten. You turned your head and were met with Rafe’s chest. Without a word, without really looking at you, he grabbed the heels and handed them to you.

"You’re limping" he said flatly, as if it were your fault.

You swallowed down your retort and slipped out of his space, ignoring him. You sat down on the chair in the dressing room. When he bought the house, he’d made sure you had an entire room just for yourself — a closet big enough to look like a boutique. He knew you’d be alone most of the time, so he compensated with clothes, shoes, jewelry.

"Whose fault is that." you muttered under your breath.

You struggled to bend down to fasten the shoes yourself. The pain was sharp, but your pride kept you silent.

Rafe sighed and lowered himself in front of you. He took your ankle in his large hand and adjusted the shoe properly.

"I love you, you know that?" he asked quietly, not lifting his eyes. "Then act like it" you shot back, arms crossed, tears threatening to ruin your makeup.

"I do—

"No, you don’t!" you snapped, louder this time.

Rafe finally looked up. His eyes held something raw, torn between desperation and need. He didn’t break the stare as he lowered his head and pressed his lips to your ankle. Slowly, he trailed kisses up your leg, slipping beneath your dress. His mouth found the thin fabric of your panties, his hot breath seeping through.

A curse slipped from your lips. You yanked your dress down, covering his head.

Rafe’s hands gripped your ass, tugging your panties down. Your breath hitched, your thighs already trembling. "Rafe… stop, we have to leave soon!" you pleaded, trying to press your legs together.

He growled, the sound low and animal.

You felt Rafe’s hot lips pressed against you, his head buried deep between your thighs.

His tongue slid slowly at first, then faster, tracing desperate strokes back and forth across your folds. Soft, helpless moans slipped past your lips, sweet little sounds you couldn’t hold back no matter how hard you tried.

His teeth caught your clit, biting down with cruel precision, refusing to let go. Your whole body jolted, your breath breaking in your throat, legs trembling so hard you thought they might give out.

Then Rafe hooked your shaking legs over his shoulders, spreading you open even wider, as if he wanted to devour every last piece of you. His hot breath mixed with your wetness, his mouth relentless, forcing you to take every ounce of pleasure he demanded. Your heart hammered, your body tightened—you couldn’t escape the delicious burn he was dragging out of you.

After a while, your legs began to tremble uncontrollably. Your moans grew louder, impossible to contain, and hot tears started to gather at the corners of your eyes. Your stomach tightened violently, heat surging through your body before it finally burst — you reached your peak, breathless and completely drained.

Rafe slowly pulled away from between your thighs, a grin spreading across his face, far too proud, like a predator pleased with his prey. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, his eyes locked on you, darkened with desire and satisfaction.

“Satisfied?” he asked, voice low and ragged, still catching his breath.

You nodded, cheeks damp, your voice trembling. “Very...” you whispered, barely audible.

He rose to his full height, and you couldn’t ignore the hard bulge straining against his tailored suit pants. Without hesitation, he grabbed your waist and pulled you back onto your feet, your body weak and unsteady against him.

“We’re leaving in two minutes. Go get your coat.” he ordered, pressing a quick, almost careless kiss to your lips.

"whether you like it or not"

The screams echoed off the narrow walls of your small apartment.

The gifts and clothes — the ones that had cost a fortune — flew across the room before hitting the floor or the walls with dull thuds.

"You lied to me, you bastard!" you spat, your voice hoarse, hurling yet another package he had given you.

Rafe didn't move.

He stood there, arms crossed over his broad chest, forearms tense, veins protruding. On his temple, a steady pulse beat, betraying the tension he kept locked inside.

Being an FBI agent meant being gone most of the time. He never traveled with much, only what was necessary. He liked order, precision, everything in its place.

But you didn't see discipline — you only saw absence. When he was home, everything came down to sex. No talks. No simple moments.

So one night, after he had left you hanging yet again, rage pushed you to go through his things.

It was reckless, unjustified. But you didn't care. You wanted answers.

At first, nothing.

Perfectly organized ID papers. His badge. His gun, gleaming.

Then, as you went to close the bag, your eyes caught something that didn't belong.

Back pocket. A pair of panties. And tucked inside, a Polaroid.

Your vision blurred instantly.

The panties meant nothing to you.

You hadn't fully looked at the photo yet, but the shapes were enough —explicit, no room for doubt.

Two in the morning.

Your voice screamed, your hands struck, your muscles burned. Every object became a weapon.

The neighbors could hear everything. But you didn't give a damn. Neither did he.

"I sacrificed everything for you!" you spat, tears blurring your vision. "I waited for you like a fucking dog, and you cheat on me with some whore!"

You grabbed a vase and hurled it with all your strength. It shattered against the wall, inches from his face.

Not a blink. Not a word.

Thirty minutes. Of yelling, hitting, throwing. Then nothing. Your legs weakened, your lungs struggled to find air.

He finally moved. One step. Two.

He crouched near his bag, reached inside, and pulled out the panties and the Polaroid. Tossed them at your feet.

Silence.

He cleared his throat, tilted his head slightly toward the objects.

"You took those pictures for my birthday. Three years ago." He picked up the photo and held it right in front of your eyes. "It was before my first mission in the field. We were going to be apart for several days. You gave them to me... with the panties."

Shame knotted in your throat, but you refused to look away. You wanted to tell him it was fear that made you snoop. But he wasn't the kind of man to be swayed by pretty words.

"I wouldn't have done it if you gave me a little attention." you said, almost like a challenge.

His jaw tightened.

His eyes darkened.

In one swift move, he closed the distance. His hand slid into your hair, gripping hard. You were forced to stand, your face tilted toward his.

"I'm not the one who cheated." he growled, voice low and controlled. You opened your mouth to reply, but his lips crashed against yours.

Not a tender kiss —an attack.

Your tongues clashed, tangled. His hands framed your face, holding you there, his heat surrounding you despite the anger.

Your legs wrapped tightly around his waist, clinging to him as if you refused to let him go.

His arm slid under your thighs with brutal ease, lifting you higher against him.

Your noses brushed, your breaths tangled, and your lips crashed together in a fierce kiss where neither you nor Rafe was willing to give up control.

Your back slammed against everything in your path with each of his steps — the corner of a piece of furniture, a half-open door, a cold wall.

But none of it mattered.

You wanted him. More than anything. More than God himself could understand.

When you reached the bedroom, he threw you onto the bed with sharp force.

You bounced against the mattress, a moan slipping out of you, part surprise, part raw desire.From above, Rafe stared down at you. His steel-cold eyes didn't blink. He looked at you the way a predator studies its prey, calculating every move before striking.

He leaned down slowly, his massive frame covering yours, the shadow of his body swallowing you whole.

Suddenly, his large, rough hands gripped the insides of your thighs, spreading them to press himself harder against you.

The heavy bulge in his pants ground against the thin fabric of your panties, sending a shiver racing up your spine.

His face was too close to yours, close enough that you could feel the heat of his breath on your skin, laced with the sharp scent of coffee and sweat.

"I hate you..." you whispered, your voice catching, your lips brushing his.

His hand slid slowly along your cheek, his fingers tracing your skin as if committing every curve to memory. His expression didn't change. No visible anger. No softness either.

"I love you," he said in a deep, unyielding voice. "And you're going to be the mother of my children."

Tonight, you and Rafe were supposed to have a normal evening. Rafe had returned from one of his top-secret missions that he never talks about. 

You have no idea what he does, but he disappears for months at a time but you're happy when he can call you.

Your father invited you both over for dinner. Rafe wasn't happy about it, but you knew it was important to make your parents happy.

During dinner, Rafe was quiet, not as if it wasn't normal on the contrary Rafe was very quiet. He kept glancing at his watch, clearly impatient. 

Your mother notice and tried to engage him in conversation, asking about his latest trip. "Nothing much to tell," he replied gruffly, cutting off any further questions.

He really didn't want to be here.

Then your father asked the question that made everyone slightly uncomfortable, "And the baby? When are you having one?" 

You looked at Rafe, the situation was quite awkward. "Rafe and I aren't ready yet..." you said, trying to deflect the question.

Rafe wanted a family with you, but being in the military wasn't easy. He was constantly deployed, and the thought of starting a family while he was always away weighed heavily on him.

Your parents exchanged knowing looks, clearly not convinced by your answer. Your mother smiled politely, "Of course, dear. You two are still young." She paused, then added with a wink, "But don't wait too long, okay?"

"Don't wait too long" Those words were the breaking point for Rafe. He had been struggling with the idea of having a family, always pushing it to the back of his mind due to his demanding career. But hearing those words, seeing the expectation in your parents' eyes... something snapped inside him.

As soon as you got back to your cramped apartment, it didn't take much for Rafe to lose control. He grabbed you roughly, tearing off your little white dress with a feral growl. His hands were suddenly everywhere, his mouth crashing against yours in a desperate, almost violent kiss.

Rafe towered over you, his military training evident in every perfectly toned muscle. He was literally a beast— powerful, intense, and completely focused on you. The contrast of his rough hands against your delicate skin sent shivers down your spine.

You struggled to pull down his pants, your trembling hands betraying your desperate need. "Fuck." he growled, helping you by kicking off his boots and ripping down his pants. "Lift your legs." he ordered gruffly, lifting you up against the wall.

You wrap your legs around his waist. "Don't talk to me like I'm one of your soldiers." you snap. He chuckles, grinding his hard length against your wet panties. His big hands squeeze your ass cheeks, pulling you closer. "Sorry, ma'am." he teases, voice dripping with sarcasm, rubbing harder.

Rafe hooks your panties to the side. "Your parents basically told you to go get knocked up." Rafe jokes, his thick length rubbing against your wet opening. You throw your head back, moaning loudly as he spreads your thighs wider apart. “Maybe we should give them what they want.” he says with a smirk, and without warning, he thrusts into you.

It takes Rafe a few seconds to adjust, his cock throbbing intensely within your tight heat. He hasn't been with a woman in months, his body overwhelmed by the sudden intimate contact. “Shiiiiiiiit.” He groans, brows furrowed as he grits his teeth, trying to regain control.

You gasp, your nails digging into his shoulders as he fills you completely. He's so large, stretching you in ways that can make you come right out. "Rafe!" you cry out, your voice trembling with pleasure and slight discomfort. He's unmoving for a moment, letting you adjust to his size.

"Fuck, you're so tight," Rafe groans, his forehead pressing against yours. "I forgot how good it feels." He pulls out slowly, his hands gripping your hips tightly, and then thrusts back in, harder this time.

You look up at him with a vulnerable expression, the pity he loves so much evident in your eyes. He starts his thrusts, fast and a bit too rough, his body taking over as he chases his release. He's not making love to you —he's fucking you like an animal.

He's not being gentle, his fingers digging into your thighs to spread you wider. He knows he's being rough, his body slapping against yours loudly. He sees your small body absorb each thrust without complaint, making him even rougher.

You moan loudly, your neighbors likely hearing everything but you don't care, and neither does Rafe. Some couples are literally trying to get pregnant here!

Rafe's breathing is ragged, his face contorted with primal need. He wraps his arms around your thighs, pulling your legs up to his shoulders, hitting impossibly deeper spots within you.

Rafe's thrusts become more erratic, his voice dropping to a hoarse whisper as he leans down, his mouth near your ear. "Imagine if I got you pregnant right now…" he growls, his pace faltering for a moment. "One of these rough fucks knocking you up..."

"Please..." your voice is soft and pleading, your high-pitched moans driving him wild. Before he even realizes it, he bursts inside you, pouring his seed deep. Your small body trembles with pleasure, convulsing around his cock as the orgasm hits you both hard. 

"Look what you do to me," he pants, still pumping slowly as he finishes inside you. "One of these days, your belly's really going to show." His hands move down to your hips possessively, imagining you pregnant with his child. "Such a good girl, taking it all..."

He gently sets you down on your feet, but you're still shaky so you cling to him for support. You look up at him with those big doe eyes and pout. "I want a kiss..." It's so innocent and cute after the rough sex he just had with you.

Rafe chuckles softly at your adorable request, his stern features softening. He cups your face gently, He leans down to press a gorgeous kiss on your lips.

But if you were the one asking, he would have likely raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing on his lips, before replying: “Your thighs, baby. Why do you ask?”

WHY ?

Rafe and you had been together since high school, surprising as it may be, he had always been faithful to you. 

When Rafe went off to college, everyone was talking about eating out a girl's pussy. Unfortunately, Rafe was miles away from you since you weren't in the same college.

When you finally saw each other again for a weekend together, Rafe wasted no time before wanting to try it out. He had heard all the talk at college and now he was finally reunited with you, eager to experiment. His faithful nature was about to be put to the test.

Initially, you were frightened and kept insisting that it was dirty and unhygienic. But let's be real, did you actually think Rafe would really care about that? 

Given his eagerness and the temptation after hearing about it constantly at college, hygiene concerns might not have been high on his priority list.

Rafe was a spoiled brat who always got what he wanted when he wanted it, so it didn't take him long before he managed to convince you. His persistence and determination won out over your initial reservations. Before you knew it, you were giving in to his demands and letting him experiment with you.

Rafe had your thighs over his shoulders, your bare pussy right in front of his face. He looked up at you, your head hidden under a pillow to avoid waking up his parents.

Then gently he began to kiss your clit. You could have died from that sensation alone. Your hands found their way into his hair, nervously playing with it.

Rafe's gentle kisses took you by surprise. You had already touched and fingered yourself thinking about him, but this was a completely different sensation. 

He was calm and gentle, not rushing, wanting to savor the moment. His big tongue didn't take long before it could lick your entire little pussy.

His warm, wet tongue parted your folds, delving deeper with each slow, deliberate lick. He could feel you trembling above him, your fingers tangling in his hair. He looked up, seeing your face buried in the pillow, muffled whimpers escaping your lips.

Your nipples were hard and even with the pillow, Rafe could hear the muffled sounds of your moans. Fuck, he thought he might die right there on the spot. The feeling of your wet heat on his tongue, the sounds of your pleasure, it was almost too much for him to handle.

He continued his slow, sensual assault, his tongue lingering on your clit before slipping back down to your entrance. He pushed his tongue inside, feeling your walls clench around him. Rafe let out a muffled groan against your pussy, the vibration causing you to arch your back.

Your hand gripped his head tighter, pulling him deeper against your pussy as his hands gripped your waist tighter. He could feel your body shaking with pleasure, your moans growing louder even through the pillow. Rafe didn't mind the muffled sounds, he found it incredibly hot.

Your legs tightened around his head, trapping it securely between your thighs. Rafe felt like he was drowning in your wet heat and it was the best fucking sensation he'd ever experienced. He wanted to stay there forever, suffocated by your legs or your pussy.

His tongue worked faster now, driven by your desperate movements and the way you were practically suffocating him with your thighs. He could feel your orgasm building, your body tensing above him. 

Rafe redoubled his efforts, his fingers digging into your hips as he tried to push his tongue even deeper.

Your breathing became rapid and uncontrolled, your moans now completely unmuffled. Rafe could feel your thighs trembling around his head as you neared the edge. He wrapped his arms around your thighs, pulling you impossibly closer as his tongue circled your clit at a relentless pace.

Then suddenly, your sweet, addictive juice began to coat his chin. He straightened up, catching your release with his mouth. 

He growled softly, then peppered kisses up your stomach, your ribs, before capturing one of your hard nipples in his mouth, sucking softly. Your body jerked with aftershocks.

You pulled the pillow off your head, and he moved so their faces were level, his hands caressing your sides. "You didn't speak to me..."

Rafe laughed softly, kissing you deeply before running his fingers through your hair. "Sorry, babe but I think I was just too focused on having your clit in my mouth…" he murmured with a playful smirk. His other hand trailed down your side, giving your hip a gentle squeeze.

You laughed, hitting his shoulder. He caught your hand and kissed your knuckles. "Jerk." you said softly. He chuckled, capturing your neck with his mouth. "Your jerk." he murmured back.

"Round 2?" he inquired calmly, eyebrow arched. You pretended to ponder the question intensely before suddenly grabbing his head and shoving it forcefully between your thighs with an impressively convincing air of innocence.

 He choked out a laugh, the sound muffled by your flesh.

Rafe preferred to make love to you slowly and gently after a long day of work, just wanting lazy, peaceful sex.

But you... you preferred when he was a bit more rough. So, of course, the infamous phrase "Are you sure you're inside?" really got under his skin.

Rafe knew his dick was large; he had lost count of the times you had gagged on.

So when you said that famous phrase, Rafe looked at you with a completely disconnected expression. "Excuse me what did you say?" he asks.

You look at him with that fucking innocent expression. "Are those your fingers or your dick inside me, Rafe?"

Rafe really wanted to do everything right, he wanted to take care of you, truly. But you had to provoke him.

He flipped you onto your stomach and positioned your ass in the air, before you could even comprehend what was happening, he was buried deep inside your pussy.

You moaned in pleasure as he began pounding into you violently, driven by primal instinct. Each brutal thrust shoved you forward, your ass jiggling with the force of his hips slapping against your skin.

Rafe gripped your hips tightly, fingers digging into your flesh as he lost himself in the savage rhythm.

"Feel my dick now? Maybe I should go deeper?" And he did. Those full 11 inches - all inside you. The force of his thrusts pushed you up the bed, but he held your hips firmly, pulling you back onto him with each powerful stroke.

He was deep—too deep.

Your breath hitched and your fingers clawed at the sheets as you felt every inch of him stretching you wide.

You tried to push back against him, but he held you in place, completely at his mercy. "Still wondering which part of me is inside you, sweetheart?"

It was a mess - his juices running down your legs and Rafe being feral. This was the first time you'd seen him like this.

He pulled out and spat on your dripping pussy, clearly seeking to fill it again. "Dirty little slut."

"Asshole," you muttered. That was enough to snap Rafe. "Now you're really testing my patience," he growled. In one swift motion, he grabbed your legs, flipped you onto your back, and slammed back in. "How's my big dick feel now, huh?"

He started pounding into you again, but this time, his fingers worked your clit furiously, like he was trying to break it.

His thick digits rubbing and circling the sensitive bud relentlessly as he hammered into you..

hitting that spot that made your back arch off the bed. His other hand wrapped around your throat, not squeezing, just resting there as he glared down at you. "Do you feel it ?”

He hit deeper and then—just like that. Your orgasm flooded through you unexpectedly. You gasped, your pussy squeezing his dick tightly, as a wave of intense pleasure washed over you. Rafe's eyes widened in surprise as he felt the sudden, powerful clenching around his length.

Rafe came simultaneously, completely caught off guard by your intense orgasm triggering his own. His thrusts became erratic as thick ropes of cum shot deep inside you, coating your walls. The pleasure was overwhelming, seeming to last forever as he filled you up.

After a few seconds, Rafe pulled out of you. You could barely even think straight as you lay there, trying to catch your breath and process what had just happened.

The bed was soaked underneath you from the combination of your own wetness and Rafe's heavy release.

“Who…pissed you off?…” you managed to stammer. Rafe took a moment to catch his breath and then looked up at the ceiling. “Barry.” he sighed.

+18

People would never understand.

William was a good man—wealthy, kind, affectionate. He had given you beautiful children, cherished you, loved you in every way a husband was supposed to.

So why did you cheat on him?

William was gentle, patient, and attentive, but you weren’t in love with him. The only reason you stayed was for your children, to give them the stability of a present, devoted father.

The first time you and Rafe slept together, it was a mistake. A drunken night that spiraled into something reckless, something forbidden.

It just happened.

You weren’t happy—not romantically, not sexually, not truly—and Rafe was the only man who made you feel like more than just a wife, more than just a mother. With him, you felt alive.

Yet, you had sworn to yourself that it wouldn’t happen again.

And now, here you were, standing in his dimly lit living room at 9 PM. Just the two of you.

“Rafe, I don’t want this anymore.”

He turned to face you, eyebrows knitting together as he poured himself a glass of whiskey.

“Did I miss something?” he asked, his voice calm, indifferent, like this conversation was nothing more than a minor inconvenience.

You stepped in front of him, refusing to be intimidated by his height, by his presence.

“I love my husband. I love my kids. I have everything I could ever want,” you argued, trying to convince him—trying to convince yourself.

Rafe took a slow sip of his drink, eyes locked on you, unreadable. Then, he simply nodded.

“Alright.”

That was it. No fight, no plea. Just alright.

Your heart skipped a beat. That wasn’t what you expected. You had prepared for an argument, for persuasion, for the inevitable temptation. But not this.

“Okay,” you whispered, grabbing your things.

And then, just as you turned, he caught your wrist. Before you could react, his lips brushed against yours—just for a second. A mere ghost of a kiss.

You froze.

He pulled away, waiting. Watching.

And then, before you could think, before you could stop yourself—you crashed into him.

Rafe manages to stabilize you in a few seconds, his lips moving desperately against yours, damn it, is this what they call "love"?

He buries his head in your neck and you moan, his hands gripping your ass tightly, his breathing heavy against your neck.

"You're going to leave your husband and come spend the rest of your days with me." He carries you to his sofa and pushes you against it, you pull him in by tugging on the collar of his shirt.

"And you know why you'll do it?" He tears your tights, eliciting a loud moan from you. "Because you're completely crazy about me."

"Go to hell Rafe!" You moan, he laughs and pulls your panties to the side without warning, he thrusts deep inside you. You feel your body shake with pleasure. He curses under his breath as he pulls your legs over his shoulders, deepening the angle. "Say it," he growls, his hands digging into your thighs. "Say you'll leave him." You whimper, your nails clawing at his back. "N-no,"

He pushes harder, your pussy feeling so good around him—it's better than it was with William. "Fuck, you're so tight," he grunts, his balls slapping against your ass with each thrust. You gasp, your head tossing side to side on the sofa.

He leans down, his teeth grazing your neck. "You're so fuck up f’me, whether you admit it or not," he hisses. "Your body knows it, even if your heart doesn't." His fingers find your clit, circling it firmly. "Come on, baby. Give in."

Tears stream down your face from overwhelming pleasure as Rafe chuckles. He laughs because he knows that William has never had you like this—completely at his mercy, your body surrendering utterly. 

"That's it, sweetheart," Rafe purrs, feeling your pussy clench tightly around him.

"God!.." he groans, his pace quickening. "You make me lose control." He swallows hard, then asks darkly, "Are you on the pill?" You freeze beneath him. " Answer me," he growls, "Before I put a baby in you."

you bite your lip hard and scratch his back.

"Say it," he demands, his hands gripping your hips possessively. "Say you don't care if I knock you up right now." He pulls out slightly, teasing his tip at your entrance. "Say it, and I'll do it."

"I don't care if you put a baby in me Rafe Cameron. I just want you to do it." You look Rafe straight in the eyes, there's no ounce of doubt or hesitation, only love, love that has been repressed for far too long.

His eyes darken dangerously at your words, raw emotion flashing across his face. "Fuck," he mutters, then drives into you hard and deep, each thrust deliberate. "You realize what you're saying? That you want..." He breaks off, his voice becoming thick. "My baby."

"Say it again," he demands roughly, his body shaking above you. "That you'll carry my baby, that you'll be the mother of my children." He pants, his face contorted with emotion.

You remove your legs from his shoulders and cradle his face in your soft hands. "I'll be the mother of your children." You smile, your eyes starting to fill with tears. "I'll be the mother of your children." Rafe laughs, a hint of sincerity, and kisses you deeply.

For the first time in his life, Rafe felt like he had found the right one—and he had no intention of ruining it.