bliss

rafe even promised you that he would stop antagonizing the pogues, but only if they disrespect me first, he'd said in return, rather sulkily and reluctant, but he wanted to be a good boyfriend for you and he knew you didn't like violence of any kind.

once 4/20 finally came, you were already high as a cloud come noon, one of rafe's arms wrapped snuggly around your shoulders, tannyhill buzzing with a few people, but rafe doesn't really care about them right now, especially now with the way you're being all sweet and whiny for rafe's attention, acting all submissive and needy and breedable for your daddy—which, of course, rafe didn't mind at all, he liked you like this the most, so sweetly obedient and paying all of your attention on him and only him.

"yeah, princess? y'need somethin', hm?" he breathes teasingly into your ear, watching as your pouty, glossy lips (that tasted like cotton candy) smacked together noisily, making rafe smirk and his head was already quickly processing that you most likely needed a new refreshment.

without a care in the world about who was watching him and his girl, with you already in his lap comfortably, like the princess he always claims you are, sitting prettily and smiling dreamily, doe-like eyes heavy and red, long eyelashes fluttering slowly like a kitten, both freshly done and fluffy and making you appear like a perfect little doll, hanging all over your man as his big hands fondle your asscheeks under your pretty, little babydoll pink miniskirt that was covered with a layer of pretty white lace—my angel, rafe had complimented you earlier, making you all shy and bashful, like you usually were around your boyfriend.

"a'ight, baby… lemme − lemme go get you another water, and then we'll spark up again, yea?" rafe murmurs against your ear, his breath hot and smelling mostly of the overly intoxicating fragrance of the weed you'd all been taking turns taking hits from, mostly from fat blunts and the occasional little joint for the past few hours.

instantly, you breathily mewl in protest and hold onto your boyfriend tighter, arms wrapping around his neck, clinging to him like a little girl that clings to their father.

softly, rafe breathes a light, amused little chuckle, used to your neediness, but knowing you're being extra clingy right now due to the drug and the tiny, few sips of those fruity, alcoholic seltzers that taste like the sweetest thing you can imagine, something that rafe wrinkles his nose at every time he watches you drink them, but pretends to like them for your sake, though he prefers something… stronger.

usually, if it wasn't a special occasion, rafe would bring you to an empty bedroom in whichever house-party he usually brings you along to, with you hanging tightly (and anxiously) onto your boyfriend's arm, letting him lead you upstairs with a large, possessive hand on your lower back, practically resting on your plump, perky little ass, guiding you to some random room to make out for a bit.

and then, after rafe gets bored of just messily making out with you, he fucks your brains out until you're all 'babied brained'—as rafe has occasionally called it, though was actually subspace, but rafe wasn't that thoroughly educated, and again, didn't give a fuck about searching up what it meant when he fucks his girlfriend senseless and within an inch of her life.

of course, rafe could search it up, but it didn't truly interest him and he thought it was just normal, and besides, he already knew you enjoyed being coddled by him and doted on by him after sex, so he figured he didn't need to worry too much—plus, even if he didn't want to admit it, it was a win-win situation for the kook prince, with rafe needing to always hold onto some part of you, especially after being intimate together.

and again, rafe didn't mind your clinginess, practically relishing in it, his ego growing more and more the more he realized how codependent you were becoming on him.

back in the present, rafe feels you begin pressing glossy, sticky kisses all over the side of his face, leading down to his already marked-up neck, causing him to let out a soft, low grunt of frustration and arousal.

"baby," rafe gently chastises, already knowing your sparkly, clear lipgloss with the light undertone of pastel pink—and yes, you always give rafe a haul of every makeup product you buy, using his money, of course—but again, rafe doesn't mind, enjoying the fact that his obedient little princess was becoming so dependent on him for everything, always needing him for something, and rafe... rafe doesn't care what you need from him, if it's something serious or dumb, he'll be there within minutes.

however, in rafe's mind, it's as long as you remember that rafe is your man and you don't need to be calling anyone else for help—that's what rafe was there for, to take care of you and fuck your pretty little pussy, and someday, perhaps sooner rather than later, rafe will pump a large, scorching load into you, deep inside of your womb… that way, you'll never be able to leave him, rafe thinks.

rafe breathes out a small sigh, his thick, muscular arms still wrapped around you, possessively and obsessively, wanting to keep you as close as possibly—meanwhile, he starts his own sloppy, passionate kisses against your lips, smearing your pretty lipgloss against his own lips, tasting how sweet you are, but once again, rafe doesn't give fuck, and he won't give a fuck when you complain to him that you have to reapply your lipgloss again, even though you do so every five minutes anyways.

"lemme jus' go get you another water, sweetcheeks," rafe coos against your lips, suppressing a smile at your instant pout, but quietly observes as you silently and simply crawl off of his lap, sitting to the side of him on one of the usual balcony outdoor furniture sofa's, it was a wooden wicker sofa with plush, probably thousands of dollars worth of cushions that rafe dragged you along to sit with him, but you didn't care, impatiently waiting for your boyfriend to come back to you.

it barely takes five minutes for rafe to return back to you, but there you sit, scrolling through your phone with a cute, bored pout on your plump lips, a fresh coat of your sugary lipgloss already applied, making your lips look extra kissable.

swiftly, rafe takes his seat back down next to you, opening the fresh water bottle for you, a hand going to your lower back casually, while his free hand guides the water up to your mouth, not even having to say anything, already watching as you perk up a bit and lean forward, taking a few eager sips, giving your boyfriend a grateful smile once he sets the water down beside himself when you finish.

with long, deft fingers, and a gorgeous, shiny golden ring decorating his index finger with the cameron family's symbol, rafe easily pulls out a freshly rolled, thickly stuffed blunt from behind his ear, already pulling out a lighter and swiftly lighting the end of it, curling one of his large, calloused hands around the newly burning tip so the spring breeze wouldn't blow out the cherry of the freshly rolled blunt.

"where'd you get that?" you hum curiously, a dreamy, pretty smile curling across your freshly coated glossy lips, already pressing yourself back into rafe's side, one of his thick, tanned arms thrown over your shoulders, keeping you close against him as he stuffs the lighter into the pair of his typical black nike shorts he'd been wearing since the weather has been warm and beautiful, summer coming quicker than you'd thought.

"rolled this f'us when i went inside to grab you a fresh water," rafe explains nonchalantly, still high off of the weed, but also the few bumps of coke he snorted just minutes ago, grabbing his girl his personal stash of the best quality of weed he had, saving it for you, knowing you were gonna beg him to let you smoke once 4/20 came—and strangely, the longer he'd been around you, and the fact that you two have been dating for a few months, the oldest cameron sibling was growing more and more attached to you as time passed, giving nearly into your every whim, no matter your request.

unless, of course, your request had something to do without him.

"you wanna shotgun this with me, baby?" rafe purrs lazily, taking a long hit of the cherry flavored blunt that was currently between his soft, pink lips, still slightly sticky from your previous kisses.

you let out a small, happy noise of agreement, nodding your head gently as you wrap both of your arms around rafe's non-dominant arm, feeling his muscles rippling every time he moved to be closer to you, his pretty girl.

and then, then you see rafe take another long drag, before casually leaning over you completely, pressing you down slightly against the back of the outdoor sofa, a hand holding the burning blunt between two fingers, while his other, much more dominant hand is now curled around your throat, holding you in place with a firm, but gentle grasp as he easily, and slowly, blows the smoke from his lungs into yours—your long, fluffy mink lashes fluttering prettily as the dizzying smoke fills your lungs and clouds your brain, making you smile another dreamy, happy smile.

meanwhile, before you even have time to respond, rafe is kissing you once more—again, this time more deeply, messily, mouth opened as his tongue sucks and plays with yours, humming in content after a long moment once he pulls back, an amused smirk on his kiss-swollen lips, similar to your own swollen lips, your lips smeared with your lipgloss once again, but you don't really care this time.

"this some good shit—huh, baby?"

You assumed the guy you’ve heard but haven’t seen yet would settle down once classes were underway. So much for that.

You have a lecture early tomorrow. It’s past midnight and his music and loud conversations are still drumming through your wall.

You’d call the resident advisor, but you’d rather talk to him yourself so not to risk any bad blood that could form from you snitching on him. You sigh, get out of bed, and decide to finally face him.

Rafe takes another hit of his joint, leaning back in his desk chair while three of his frat buddies talk about the past week of rushing.

He just got accepted into his top choice frat and he’s elated. And if he proves himself, he’ll be able to move into the Sigma Chi house next semester.

He probably will never get used to living in such a small room compared to the mansion he grew up in, but at least the frat house will be an upgrade.

“Dude, I think someone’s knocking,” Blake says, slapping Rafe’s knee.

“Oh, shit,” Rafe laughs, high out of his mind. He pauses the music and ambles out of the circle he’s been sitting in.

When he opens the door to see a girl in pajamas looking up at him, her arms crossed and her lips pinched, he’s taken aback for a second. Damn, you’re pretty.

“Hi,” you say, failing to force a smile at the man towering over you. The smell of weed hits you instantly. “I live next door. I wanted to ask if you could please keep it down?”

He grimaces as his unseen friends jeer behind him. You notice the Greek lettering on his t-shirt. A frat boy. Of course.

“You’re in trouble, Rafe!” one of them taunts.

He props a big arm against his doorframe, his blue eyes trailing down your body.

“Were we being loud?” he teases, purposely playing dumb. He’s obviously wasted. And is giving off strong fuckboy vibes.

“I have an early class tomorrow,” you try to explain. “Can you at least keep the music off?”

“What, you don’t like it?”

“Listen… Rafe, right?” you say. He nods, his grin still so fucking smug. You tell him your name. “I’m not trying to ruin anyone’s fun, but-”

“That’s kind of what you’re doing,” Rafe interrupts. The way your face screws up when you’re pissed off is too cute for him to stop fucking with you.

“Don’t you have a frat house you can do this at?” you finally snap, gesturing to his t-shirt.

“You telling me I can’t be in my own room?” Rafe says, annoyance starting to prick at his skin.

“Not if you’re gonna keep people up,” you say.

“Turn around.”

“What?” you snap.

“I wanna know if I can see the stick up your ass from here,” he says.

His friends explode in laughter and he looks back with a wide smile.

“I fucking hate frat boys,” you mutter more to yourself than to him. Rafe brings a hand up to his chest in mock offence. “And you’re not allowed to smoke in your room,” you add.

“You gonna tell on me?” He cocks his head, his hair falling over his forehead.

“Yeah, actually, I might.”

A man appears behind Rafe with a charming smile.

“Okay, okay,” he drawls to you, gesturing to dap Rafe up. “We should get going anyway.”

“Nah, man, you don’t have to,” Rafe says, immediately disappointed that his fun is ending.

“It’s late,” he says. The man nods at you with a smile.

“Blake,” he introduces himself to you. “Sorry about the noise.”

“Thank you,” you say through gritted teeth, wishing Rafe had half the manners his friend does. He shuffles past you, followed by two other guys who say their goodbyes to Rafe.

“Happy?” Rafe mutters, all the playfulness from his tone now gone.

“Thrilled,” you say, turning to get back to your room.

The next afternoon, you’re on the phone with your friend, Liv, as you make your way back to your dorm room after a full day of classes.

She’s trying to convince you to come to a party at a frat house tonight. You’re exhausted after a long day, but she’s right that you need some fun.

“I can’t be out long,” you say on the phone, pushing your key into the lock. “I’m tired. And honestly, already kind of stressed out over school.”

“Maybe you’ll meet a guy who’ll take your mind off things,” Liv suggests. You snort.

“The last guy I hooked up was such a disappointment,” you tell her. You try to twist your key. It won’t budge. “I almost faked my orgasm, then was like, it’s not even worth it.”

Liv laughs.

“They should know when they suck,” she says.

You wiggle your key, your fingers starting to hurt.

“Exactly,” you say. “Plus, he wanted to try this position and… I don’t know, I felt too nervous to do it. It was just a failure all around.”

Finally, your key twists and make it into your room, clueless to the fact that Rafe heard everything.

That night, you’re at the Sigma Chi house, two drinks in, when you spot your neighbor playing beer pong across the room. Shit. You’re sure this is his frat.

You already told Liv about your encounter with Rafe, so you nudge her and point him out.

“That’s my fuckboy neighbor,” you say.

“You didn’t mention how hot he is.”

“Wait until he opens his mouth,” you tell her, earning a laugh.

Honestly, Rafe does look good. He fills out his t-shirt so well, his backwards hat pushing his hair out of his handsome face.

Rafe glances around the crowded room and catches you staring at him. Even though you irritated him the first time you spoke last night, heat fills his body once he realizes your eyes are on him.

You quickly look away.

Despite how much of a tight-ass he thinks you are, he’s glad to see you tonight. What he overheard you say on the phone a few hours ago has been weighing on his mind. And his ego.

He finishes up his game of beer pong and the alcohol rushing through his system convinces him to find you and ask you what he’s been mulling over.

“Are you lost?” a voice says behind you.

You turn to look up at Rafe, who’s ducking down so you can hear him over the music. You glance back at Liv, who raises her eyebrows and turns away to give you privacy.

“Or do you actually know how to have fun?” he asks. You sigh as you glance back at him.

“I do, without the expense of people’s sleep,” you reply, a sarcastic smile on your face. “Crazy concept, right?”

“I figured it out,” he says. “Why you’re such a tight-ass.”

“I am not a tight-ass,” you reply.

“It’s ‘cause you can’t get off. I heard you,” he says. He sees embarrassment wash over your face. You know exactly what he’s referring to. “And I’m the loud one?”

You look away, regretting that you didn’t stop to think your voice would float into his dorm room. Fuck.

“Does that actually happen?” Rafe asks. “Girls fake orgasms?”

Your eyes dart up to meet his and you scoff a chuckle.

“Yes,” you say. “What, you didn’t know that?”

Rafe shakes his head. Admittedly, he’s been wondering if any girls faked cumming with him since he overheard you. It’s kind of a blow to his ego.

“Ouch,” you laugh, regaining your confidence. “Let me guess. You thought you had a perfect track record.”

“How can you tell that a girl’s faking it?”

You take a sip of your beer and he can’t help but notice the enticing way your lips look glossed with moisture.

“Every girl’s different,” you say. “But for the most part, you can… feel it. You know… down there.”

You’re glad you’re drunk for this conversation. You doubt you could have it sober.

“How?” he asks, genuinely curious.

“I’m not helping you with this,” you say. “Especially after you were such a dick to me.”

Rafe smirks, looking down. You notice he has really cute dimples. Shit. The fuckboy is charming you.

“Let’s start over,” he suggests. “I have an idea.”

“You can have those?” you ask.

“I heard you say you were nervous trying a new position,” Rafe says, ignoring your chide. You look down in unease again.

“You don’t have to be embarrassed,” he says. You look at him again, speechless over how forward he is. “We can help each other. You show me how to make a girl cum and how to know I actually did it. And I’ll let you practice whatever you want with me until you feel confident.”

You freeze for a second. Is he seriously suggesting you two fuck… to get better at fucking?

“Oh, you’ll let me?” you say, his proposal admittedly making your stomach numb with anticipation. “You’re insane.”

“Maybe,” Rafe says with a shrug. You realize he’s being totally and unabashedly serious. “What? Do you need time to think about it?”

You take another sip of your drink, the cold beer spilling down your throat.

He is insane. But he’s also attractive. Charming. Confident. Would it be so crazy to start hooking up with him?

You’d have the guarantee of an orgasm, without wondering if the guy you’re with cares enough about getting you there, and you’d get practice so you don’t feel as insecure next time you’re with a guy you actually like.

“I’m in, only if you promise to actually respect quiet hours from now on,” you finally say.

“Great sex isn’t a good enough deal?”

“Who’s to say it’ll be great?”

“So, I have to tiptoe around my own room,” he says, his temper flaring.

“If you consider not blasting music at night tiptoeing, then yeah,” you retort.

If Rafe wasn’t sure of it before, he is now: you’re hot when you’re pissed off.

“Fine,” he relents. He’ll probably be moving out next semester anyway. He fishes his phone out of his pocket and opens a new conversation. “Text yourself so I have your number.“

You hand him your cup in exchange for his phone. You send an eggplant emoji to your number. He takes a sip of your drink and you scowl.

“Are you that selfish in bed, too?” you say.

“You can let me know,” he quips. You roll your eyes at him and take your drink, giving him his phone back. Rafe chuckles when he sees the emoji you sent yourself.

“I will,” you promise. “I’ll call you out on everything you do wrong. If you can take it.”

“Okay,” he says. “Tonight?”

Wow. He’s eager. It’s kind of thrilling that he wants you this badly.

“Maybe,” you say. “If I’m not too tired when I get home, I’ll text you.”

Rafe’s chest tightens with excitement. His hot, mouthy neighbor is actually doing this with him.

“Sure.” Rafe juts out his bottom lip, nodding, as if this conversation is completely normal. He’s so casual about it. This feels unreal.

You give him a small smile. Probably the first genuine one you’ve offered him. Okay. You can admit to yourself that you’re looking forward to hooking up with him.

You stay at the frat house for another hour, hanging out with Liv and a few other friends you made, before you make it to your dorm just before midnight.

After changing into pajamas, and the nicest set of bra and panties that you own, you text Rafe: i’m home if you want to come over.

About ten minutes later, you hear a knock at your door. You open it to see Rafe standing with his hands stuffed in the pockets of his gray sweatpants.

You’re sure he knows how good he looks when you notice the outline of his length. He did this on purpose.

“Eager,” you say. “Were you already home?”

“I was quiet, huh?” he boasts, stepping into your room. He takes a second to soak in your space, eyes travelling over the way you’ve decorated.

“What the fuck? Your room’s bigger than mine,” he says.

“They’re all the same size.” You settle on your bed, glad he’s so comfortable about this, not making it awkward at all. Truthfully, the beer has worn off, and you’re kind of freaked out.

But this is what you’re doing this for. So you can stop being so nervous about sex.

“I’ll show you my room and you’ll see for yourself,” Rafe says. You watch him pace across your space to study the photos on your wall.

His eyes travel over the snapshots of you with your family and friends, your smile bright and pretty in every image.

With Rafe’s back turned to you, you take in the way his broad shoulders stretch out his white t-shirt. By the slight curve in his back, you can tell he’s not just lean, but muscular, too.

“How long are you expecting this… arrangement to go on for?” you ask.

“Until we’re both satisfied,” he says confidently, turning to meet your eyes.

“So, you’re aware you won’t be coming out of this with a girlfriend, right?” you assert.

While Rafe is attractive and charming, he’s also rude and narcissistic. You don’t want him to think you’re interested in him in that way. This isn’t a romance.

“Oh, yeah,” he huffs. “I’m not gonna be in college tied down to one chick.”

You scoff. Yup. Definitely no romance here.

“Maybe don’t call a girl a chick,” you say. “At least not to her face.”

“Right,” Rafe says with an easy laugh. He slowly steps towards you, his eyelids heavy as he looks down at you. “You have nice tits.”

You feel your skin burn, looking down at your chest in your tank-top. Rafe hardens the longer he looks at you.

“How sweet,” you say flatly.

Rafe smirks and sits down next to you, getting right to business as he pulls you in for a kiss. His lips are warm and surprisingly soft. He tastes like cinnamon toothpaste and smells like aftershave.

He’s a good kisser. But you expected as much. By his confidence and the fact that he prepositioned you the way he did, you can tell he’s experienced with girls.

You feel his hand slide up your body and squeeze your breast. You sit back, disjointing your lips.

“Slow down,” you tell him. “Do you always go right into groping a girl like this?”

“Yeah?” His brows furrow.

“Okay, some might like it,” you say. “But most want foreplay. You have to give me some time to get turned on.”

“Aren’t you already?” he asks. “We’re kissing.”

“We’ve been at it for like, a second, Rafe. Just because you’re…” You look down at the tent in his sweatpants. “Ready, it doesn’t mean I am.”

“So, what should I do?” he asks.

“Just… don’t rush,” you say.

Rafe nods and leans into kiss you again, his hand cupping your waist this time. He doesn’t usually like kissing that much, typically wanting to jump right into sex, but the way your tongue runs over his is actually sort of nice.

A few moments later, his fingers dip to pull your top off. When Rafe sees you in your bra, he swallows hard. Why does he feel like this is his first time seeing a half-naked woman?

Probably because he’s being graded, he realizes.

“Wow,” he breathes. You look down, scratching your neck. “Damn, you do get nervous.”

“What?” you say.

“When a guy says wow, take the compliment,” he states.

You shyly shake your head and pull him in for another kiss to brush past the moment. He catches on, pushing you back.

“I’m teaching you shit, too, remember?” he mutters. “Don’t be shy. You’re hot.”

“Alright,” you groan, tugging at his shirt. “Take this off.”

He smirks and obeys, hoping he at least partly got through to you.

When your eyes roam Rafe’s bare torso, your heart pounds harder.

You continue making out, and he eventually slowly unhooks your bra. He peels it off and slowly cups your breast, fondling and gently squeezing.

“Is this too hard?” he asks.

“No, it’s - it’s good,” you sigh. You remind yourself this is supposed to be instructional. “You should… um…”

“What?” he asks against your lips. “Stop being shy.”

“Play with my nipples,” you say, cheeks burning. “Some girls like that.”

“Do you?”

“Yes.” He looks down at your chest and softly pinches you, then rubs his thumb back and forth. “Good.”

Rafe is entirely hard now, your praise making him ache to be inside you. But he’s here to learn. He needs to go slower.

He dips to put his mouth on your chest, his lips locking around your nipple. You let out a shaky moan and he knows he’s doing something right.

Big hands gently press against your hips to push you onto your back. You settle on your firm bed, hands roaming over his smooth back.

He shifts to give your other breast the same amount of attention, coating your nipple in his warm spit. You bite your lip, feeling your stomach tighten in arousal.

“Can I go down on you?” he rasps.

You meet his eyes. Rafe realizes just how pleased you look already. It’s really gratifying.

“Yeah,” you whisper. He eagerly pulls down your bottoms and panties in one move, losing his breath when his eyes take you in.

“Goddamn.” His voice is strained. You’re already glistening and he wants to put his mouth on you immediately.

“Go slow there, too,” you say. “Kiss my thighs first.”

“Okay,” he says, nodding urgently. It’s satisfying seeing him listen to you like this, considering he doesn’t seem to care for rules.

Your thighs are so damn soft against his mouth. He peppers kisses up your skin. It’s taking all his willpower not to start eating you out right now.

Your breaths are shallow as he leaves languid, tender kisses on you. You feel his fingers stretch your lips apart and hear him sharply inhale.

“Now?” he asks impatiently.

“Yeah. Lick everywhere,” you say, “but pay the most attention to my clit. You know where it is, right?”

“I’m not that fucking helpless,” he mutters. You can’t help but laugh.

He lowers his mouth onto you and you tremble immediately. He laps at you for a few seconds, a groan escaping his lips.

“Fuck,” he whispers. “You taste really fucking good.”

“Do you always talk like that?” you ask.

“Yeah, is it okay?” Rafe says, suddenly tense.

“It’s amazing,” you admit. “Keep doing it.”

“Yeah?” he says with a smile. He points his tongue over your clit, wriggling it over your flesh.

“That’s good,” you tell him. “Make your tongue flat, too. Switch between the two.”

You feel him nod against you, avidly taking every tip.

“And suck a little,” you tell him. Rafe didn’t think he’d like being bossed around, but the way you’re telling him what feels good and making him better at eating pussy is rewarding.

He starts to suck at your clit and the way you moan tells him everything he needs to know. He sucks harder and your breath gets shaky.

Rafe is desperate to see how the inside of you feels, even if it’s just with his fingers. He shifts to slowly dip a finger in your cunt and glances up to look at you.

“Can I finger you?” he says.

“Yes,” you nod. “It’s good to ask. Start with one.”

He slowly sinks into you, stopping at his knuckle. You’re so tight.

“Shit, baby,” Rafe whispers. “I know you’re gonna squeeze my cock so good.”

Your head is spinning. You’ve never had a man talk to you like this before. This is what you’ve been missing out on, hooking up with guys who didn’t care about your pleasure? It feels unfair.

He adds a finger, curling into you and feeling you clench around him as he continues to work your clit. You look down to enjoy the sight of his head between your legs, the tips of soft dirty blonde hair tickling your skin.

It’s intoxicating, being taken care of the way you want to be.

Rafe’s jaw starts to get sore, but your noises give him the drive to keep going. Eventually, your thighs press against your ears.

“I’m gonna cum,” you mumble. “Don’t stop.” Rafe’s stomach twists with excitement, fully alert and eager to take mental notes.

Your breath stops, your muscles tense, and your walls flutter around him as you meet your peak. Sparks of pleasure fire throughout your body and you tug at the roots of his hair.

He keeps sucking and licking and pumping his fingers until you shuffle beneath him, overstimulated.

“Okay,” you sigh. “Good, that’s good.”

Rafe sits up, his lips wet with your arousal. You look happy, yet somehow kind of guilty. He makes a mental note to figure out how to make you unashamed for having a sex drive.

The way you’re panting is making him so fucking turned on that it hurts.

“I need to fuck you,” he says.

“Yeah,” you say breathlessly, hoping he’d say that. “Do you have something?”

He nods, pulling a condom wrapper out of his pocket. He takes his pants and boxers off at the same time and he springs out.

You never thought you’d think a cock could be perfect, but there’s no other way to describe it.

He leans over you, looking down as he lines himself up and slowly sinks into you. You watch him shut his eyes with pleasure, but when he opens them again, you look down at his body.

“So shy,” Rafe teases, his voice thick. “Make eye contact.”

You listen to him, meeting his eyes. It adds an entirely new level of pleasure and vulnerability, looking at each other while he starts to rock in and out of you.

He starts to thrust faster, revelling in the way your tits are bouncing with his force. His strokes are deep and powerful and you whimper over how nice it feels.

His balls feel tight already. He never cums this fast. There’s something about you that’s making his body react like this. But knowing you already orgasmed, he doesn’t let himself overthink it.

“Feels good?” Rafe asks with amusement in his tone. You moan in response. At least he doesn’t need to improve on this part.

He goes harder, losing his rhythm as he reaches his climax, trembling over you. The way he breathes through it is so unbelievably hot to you.

Once Rafe slows down, he collapses on top of you, his chest pressed against yours.

“How was that?” he mumbles.

“I don’t think your ego needs to get any bigger,” you say breathlessly. “But that was good.”

“Just good?”

You laugh. Okay, it was fucking mind-blowing. He doesn’t need to know that, though.

“Yup,” you say, patting his shoulder. “Let me up.”

“What - what could I have done better?” he asks, sitting up off of you, pulling out. “I listened to everything you said. I swear, I never cum that fast.”

You smirk. He’s desperate for the praise.

“Fine,” you say. “It was amazing, okay? Don’t let it get to your head, frat boy.”

It definitely gets to his head. You can tell by the way he’s smiling.

“What position did that guy want you to try? Wanna do it?” he asks. You shake your head in disbelief. He could probably go all night.

“Next time,” you say, exhausted, your muscles weak.

Rafe’s disappointed, but he doesn’t show it.

“Okay,” he agrees. “Next time.”

to be continued

rafe never let you top, he never let you dominate him— but tonight was a special night, your anniversary.

and with the constant begging and pleading, he finally gave in and let you ride him.

“fuck you feel so good,” he commented, large hands finding rest on your hips as he helped you bounce on his length.

“you make me feel so good,” you whined, your thighs starting to burn as you leaned forward to rest your head on his shoulder, bouncing slowly to try and ease the pain in your legs.

“you’re so good to me, rafe,” you cooed in his ear, his fingers digging into the fat of your ass as you pulled away slightly to view him better.

“always in charge, no matter what.”

his eyes darkened at your words, cock twitching inside your walls as he started to move you up and down, a small whine leaving your lips at the feeling.

“im in charge,” he grunted, hand coming down to slap your ass hard, causing you to jolt against him with a whimper.

“you’re in charge, rafe,” you mumbled, eyes locking with his, “you own me—everything i do, what i wear, what i eat, who i talk to-”

he suddenly snapped his hips up into your dripping heat, a moan leaving your lips as he started to drill up into you.

“gonna fuck a baby into you,” he groaned, wrapping his arms around your waist to hold you in place, “gonna keep you here with me forever.”

the cool bite of metal against the side of his hand is a blaring reminder of why he doesn't let you use the pen, and his eyebrows pinch together as if pulled by thread, balmy hips stalling in their once-fervent motion. "can you stop?"

your fingernails scrape against your brows in their shoddy cover of your face, giggles muffled by the palms of your hands. "i'm sorry, i'm sorry, i'll stop, i'll stop,"

warm air paints at his face with your steady breath out; a sloppy attempt to pacify the inopportune mirth that bubbles under the surface. your fingers card through his knotted hair, twisting around the blond strands until they anchor at the back of his head. "c'mere gimme a kiss."

he huffs, complying until his lips mesh against your cheekbone, your face turned to hide the extra round of laughter that erupts from your chest. your cunt squeezes around his cock like a vice with the jerked movement, back arching off the mattress. "oh jesus fucking christ," he gripes, forehead falling against your temple. "you're done, this is done."

a soft squelch chases his retreat, his rouging cock bobbing angrily against his tensed abdomen. he grabs at it, pumping at his dick with your slick as his lubricant, and eyes trained on your worn pussy as his incentive.

the lack of bemusement, or the extra giggle that sounds, is what makes him scowl, but it slips off his lips when your fingers drift to your weeping hole, delving into charted territory. "i like cumming when i'm high," you trill dreamily, the sound lilting up into another laugh. "feels so good."

rafe fucks into his fist, avoiding the eye contact you're trying to make. "make me cum, rafe, please?" you gasp, arousal dripping off your fingers and onto the duvet, clit throbbing between your ring and middle finger. "give me your cock again."

he licks over his teeth, slowing the eager fucking of his hips. "beg for it, then."

your joy suddenly drops, and your expression mirrors his. "i'm not begging for it."