“I just need a yes or no.” Barba said in a frustrated tone. He noticed the way her eyes burned into her hands on her lap. She was a better cop than she was a witness. Nothing ever bothered her when it came to taking down a perp. “Let- let me take you out for a drink.”

(Y/N) could feel the movement of her eyebrows shift upward. Barba being nice was new to her. Most days he seemed annoyed whenever she had to stop by his office. For the longest time she assumed the dislike for each other was mutual.

They made their way to the crowded bar filled with people of status. Admittedly, she felt a little out of place.

He pulled her seat out and ordered on their behalf. The bartender placed the drinks in front of Barba as he gently slid one closer to her. She fidgeted around with the glass in her hand as her thoughts ran rapid. One of which being how she didn’t care for drinking.

“Sorry.” He whispered.

“Excuse me?”

“I was rough on you back there. I noticed I tend to have this habit of being hard on you.” He chuckled some. “You genuinely make me nervous and frustrated all at once. I haven’t had a person do that to me in a while.” His smile pressed against his glass before taking a sip.

They spent the next hour breaking the ice. She got to know a side of him she had never seen before; and he got to know she wasn’t as tough as she pretended to be. As a matter of fact, she was gentle in ways he had not expected.

(Y/N) walked up to her apartment door, 4C, before turning back to look at Barba.

“Thanks for walking me up Barba. I had a nice time with you tonight.” He smiled in agreement. For a split second she could feel herself blushing, burying her head down to hide her smile.

“My family and friends call me Rafi.” (Y/N) cracked the door. She was hesitant at first to enter. The moment she stepped in her apartment the night would be over, and so would her time with Barba.

“Would you like to come in?” Her eyes piercing into his. The cold door pressed against her back as his lips crashed into hers.

…..

Since then, they have been together for three years, with one of those years being married. Time with him flew by. She had never been this happy with someone before. They even welcomed their first child together six months ago.

Everything was great. (Y/N) was back at work getting into the rhythm of things.

Olivia peered out of her office asking for (Y/N) to join her privately. (Y/N) stood in front of her desk confused. She didn’t remember doing anything wrong. Maybe this was about her covering for Fin? But, he was never sloppy.

“I need you to go undercover. The case you were going to be a witness for, he struck again. You know this case and you fit the profile.” (Y/N) could feel her heart beating. She enjoyed the times she went undercover; it gave her a rush, but this was different. Why did this feel different?

“When?” (Y/N) paused for a second trying to find the right words. “When will I have to go undercover?”

“Tomorrow night. He’s already attacked five people, killing one in the last three months. We need to stop him (Y/N).” Shaking her head in agreement, (Y/N) got up and left Olivia’s office. She knew once she got home, she was going to have to tell Barba and he wasn’t going to take the news lightly either.

She made her way through the living room of their apartment. Maria was playing on the ground with the sitter, banging blocks together. (Y/N) asked the sitter to stay longer to keep her company before Barba got home.

To distract herself from the dreaded news, she cooked dinner. It was one of her many talents she used to help calm herself down.

The front door opened revealing the man she had been waiting for. The sitter quietly exited as (Y/N) took Maria in her arms. Barba placed a kissed on both of their foreheads as his nostrils flared up to take in the aroma of the food.

“You cooked ropa vieja. What’s wrong?” He asked. She knew the meal would be a dead giveaway.

“I have to go undercover tomorrow night.” He shook his head with his lips turning inward. They both knew this was a part of the job for (Y/N), but the risk felt greater now that they had Maria.

The rest of the night, Barba was silent. She wanted him to say something else, but he never gave her anything besides a single word response.

She crawled in the bed next to him. He held Maria close against his chest while her hand wrapped around his finger. (Y/N) heard a sniffle escape from his nose.

“Rafi?” He wiped his eyes before looking in her direction.

“He’s a bad guy (Y/N). I can’t have you getting hurt. We have our little girl now. I can’t do this alone.” (Y/N) gentle stroked the back of his neck. He needed to get this off his chest because he was afraid and she was too. It’s easy for these things to go south if not handled properly.

She rested her head on his shoulder. It was her way of telling him she was still there. He gently pulled his arm away, wrapping it around her instead to keep both of his girls in his arms for the rest of the night.

(Y/N) entered the building with her wire on. She did a subtle mic check at the bar before the suspect approached her.

“What is a lovely woman like you doing here all alone.” (Y/N) smiled at him, playing hard to get. “I’m Winters by the way. Let me buy you a drink.”

“We’re in.” Olivia said through her earpiece. The rest of the night (Y/N) chatted with Winters but it got no where. She was getting restless and the drinking was not helping. Winters ended up leaving abruptly and (Y/N) got the clear from Olivia to leave.

(Y/N) was making her way to her car, trying desperately to keep warm. She knew Olivia and Nick were waiting in the van across the street from her car to make sure nothing happened, but that was a block away and she was cold.

Suddenly, her arm was ripped back causing her to crash onto the concrete. Winters had followed her after all. She tried to get up, but was kicked back down. He pulled her up by her hair before punching her. She could hear his laugh echo across the street.

“Help!” (Y/N) screamed before being shoved back down on the ground. She felt each blow with her body getting weaker. A piece of her dress tore as she tried to get up. Blood leaked from her lips.

“Freeze!” Olivia yelled. (Y/N) tried to stand up but her legs gave out. Nick rushed over to her, wrapping his arm around her waist to help her back up on her feet. She was too weak. Every breath felt like a sharp punch to the chest.

She woke up with her eyes darting around the room trying to adjust to the bright lights above. She had no clue where she was. The heart monitor picked up its pace as she felt a hand press down against her shoulder.

“Mi amor. Calm down. Estoy aquí.” Barba reassured her. She slowly started to breathe at a steady pace.

“I don’t remember what happened.” (Y/N) spoke as the tears streamed down her cheeks. All she could remember was the beating that took place earlier. How she got to the hospital was a mystery.

“Just rest. We will talk later.” Barba got up from his seat, but (Y/N) hurriedly grabbed his wrist. The fear in her eyes scared him. He slowly sat back down staring at the black and blue face next to him. It was hard for him to see her like this. He was used to her strong demeanor, now she was fragile. A part of him was afraid he would lose her.

When he got the call that she was badly beaten, his mind automatically went to the worst case scenario. He had worked the Winters case and knew how vicious he could be. She was one of the few lucky ones if he was being honest. Barba was also nervous to see how Maria would react to her mom’s face. Would this change (Y/N)? The thought echoed in the back of his mind until she left the hospital a day later.

They entered their apartment slowly. (Y/N) was sore and Barba was afraid he would hurt her more. He gently helped her lay down on the bed.

“Where’s Maria?” (Y/N) asked. A few hours before they arrived, Barba asked his mom to watch Maria for the night. He had something important to discuss with (Y/N).

“With mami.” He sat on the edge of the bed across from her. He cleared his throat before speaking again. “I don’t want you to be a detective anymore.” It was a big ask of him to have her leave the job she loved so much, and he knew that. She found so much joy helping others, but he almost lost her.

“Rafi, this could have happened to anyone.”

“I know that; but it happened to you. It happened to my wife. The mother of my child. I don’t want you out there. You may not come home. I need you here with me.” His voice escalating with each sentence. “I’m not explaining to Maria how we lost her mom. I’m not doing that.” He wiped the tears from under his eyes.

(Y/N) knew he was serious. To some degree he was right. She never thought about how it could impact the little family she was starting. How things would be cut short if something worse happened.

She crawled over to him, wrapping her hands around him. He grabbed her hand that was around his waist as she gently rested her head against the back of his shoulder. She quickly placed a kiss on his neck.

“I will consider it, first I need you to get justice.” He shook his head in agreement. She kissed his cheek waiting for him to compose himself again. He looked back at her and smiled. “Now, call your mom. I want to see me baby.” (Y/N) let out a soft chuckle. Barba turned around lightly tackling her against the bed. She quietly winced in pain. His eyes dimmed at the sound. He hovered over her, grabbing her hand to scan every bruise on her arm. His lips pressed against each one as his way to make it better.

“Rafael.” His gaze caught hers. “I’m okay.” Her hand caressed the back of his head, twisting strands of his hair. He leaned down kissing her ever so softly.

It had been only four months since the undercover sting and Winters was already on trial. The judge decided it was best to push his case up after what he had done to an NYPD detective.

(Y/N) sat in the crowd, smushed between Olivia and Nick. She instinctively intertwined her hand with Olivia’s when Barba went up to question Winters.

“The night you attacked detective (Y/L/N), did you know she was undercover?” Barba paced in front of the judge and the booth.

“No.” Winters coldly said.

“What was your motive for attacking her?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know. Isn’t she your wife? Crazy how she didn’t even take your last name. I guess she wanted a real man.” He harshly responded.

The judge turned to Winters requesting for him to be respectful in her courtroom. All he could do was roll his eyes at her.

“I attacked her because she was leading me on. Clearly she doesn’t want a coward like you. You couldn’t protect her. Did you see what I did to her face. All because her husband couldn’t do his job the first time.” Winters started to laugh hysterically. The judge demanded that an officer remove him. He had gotten under Barba’s skin.

(Y/N) ran out of the courtroom, clutching her hand against her shirt. Another panic attack for the books. Barba followed behind guiding her to a bench to have a seat. This job was starting to become too much. She had poured so much of herself into her career that she ended up losing a piece of herself in the process.

Olivia gave her the rest of the day off. (Y/N) went home and relieved the sitter from her duties. She held on to Maria the entire time. Being her mom was the greatest gift she could have ever asked for, but so was being a detective.

Barba got home early to see (Y/N) feeding Maria at the kitchen table. A sight he hadn’t seen for a while. He sat down across from (Y/N) staring at her lovingly.

“I’m taking a leave of absence. I want to be here Rafi.” (Y/N) broke the silence.

“What made you change your mind?” She got up from her seat and grabbed the gift bag from the counter. She gestured for him to open it. He pulled out the baby sized tshirt that read big sister. His eyes started to glow. (Y/N) walked over to him, sitting down on his lap slightly turned towards him.

“9 weeks. The doctor confirmed yesterday. I love my job, but I need some time. I will go back eventually, until then, I will be here.” He started to smile. His arms wrapped around her waist pulling her in closer.

“Maria you’re gonna be a big sister. Quiero un niño.”

“You’re a girl dad Rafi.” (Y/N) said patting his chest before getting up. She stood between his legs as he rubbed his hands up and down her thighs.

“I’m sorry.” (Y/N) looked at him confused. “Winters. I’m sorry I didn’t protect you. When you are ready to go back I will support you. I’m always here for you.”

The bullpen was a hum of phones, murmurs, and the occasional clatter of files. You were elbow deep in paperwork when a familiar voice cut through the din, sharp, confident, and just the tiniest bit mischievous.

“Detective,” he drawled, leaning against the edge of your desk with that crooked grin that somehow managed to make you simultaneously annoyed and delighted. “Still pretending you don’t like doing paperwork?”

You didn’t look up. “Someone’s got to keep the precinct from imploding. You’d know if you tried it once.”

He chuckled, tilting his head, eyes glinting. “I’ve seen you in action. Trust me, chaos has nothing on you.”

You finally met his gaze, arching an eyebrow. “Flattery? That’s dangerously close to unethical, Rafeal.”

“Unethical is my specialty,” he said smoothly, sliding a folder across your desk. “But strictly legal when it’s for work purposes.”

You leaned back, smirking, pretending to consider him. “Hmm. I’m not sure if I should be grateful or call HR.”

He leaned closer, lowering his voice just enough to be a conspiratorial whisper. “Go ahead. Call HR. I’ll be charmingly unrepentant.”

A beat passed. Then, in perfect sync, you both burst out laughing—laughter that drew a few curious glances from nearby detectives, but neither of you cared.

“Fine,” you said, tossing the folder back. “I’ll give you this one. But only because I like being amused.”

“Amused is my favorite state to put you in,” he said, straightening. “And just so you know,” he gestured to the folder, “I’ve got a whole stack of files we’ll be ‘working’ on together later.”

You groaned, hiding a grin behind your hand. “I’m starting to think you enjoy this way too much.”

“I think you secretly enjoy it more,” he replied smoothly, turning to leave, then pausing at the doorway. “Try to stay out of trouble until then, Detective.”

You watched him go, already anticipating the next round of teasing, the back and forth that made the precinct feel a little less like a cage and a little more like… this.

In the Sargent’s office, Olivia and Rafeal were mulling over a case file. Barba explaining the witness timeline, he couldn’t help sneaking glances at you from across the bullpen. “So,” Olivia said, voice casual but pointed, “the detective seems… unusually cheerful today. And you, ADA Barba,” her eyebrows went up slightly “are leaning a little too close to make that ‘just professional’ line believable.”

Rafeal raised an innocent brow, tapping the folder. “Professional curiosity only, Olivia. You know me.”

Olivia smirked, clearly unconvinced. “Uh-huh. Sure. And I suppose sliding folders across desks and whispering in confidential tones is part of your professional toolkit?”

He chuckled softly, pretending to shuffle papers. “A man’s got to keep the workflow interesting.”

You glanced over at the scene, trying not to laugh outright as Olivia gave Rafeal a pointed look. “Interesting, huh? I’ve seen you flirt less subtly in depositions.”

Rafeal’s grin faltered just a fraction. “I—uh—strictly procedural. All business.”

Olivia’s smile deepened. “Mmh-hmm. We’ll see how long you can keep that up before someone notices. I’m… watching.”

You couldn’t hold it in anymore, laughter spilling out across your desk, and Rafeal finally threw his hands up in mock surrender. “Okay, okay, yes, maybe there’s a hint of… charm. But it’s still work-adjacent.”

“Work-adjacent,” Olivia repeated, teasing, shaking her head. “You lawyers and your euphemisms.”

Once Olivia returned to her office, you leaned back with a sly smile, tilting your head toward Rafeal. “So,” you murmured, voice low enough for just him, “I guess it’s true… everyone notices when you’re trying to charm me. Even Olivia.”

Rafeal froze for a beat, then quirked that signature half smile. “Oh? And what do you think that says about me?”

You tapped the edge of your desk, leaning forward. “That you’re either very confident, or very reckless. Maybe both. But honestly? I’m entertained either way.”

He chuckled, shaking his head, mock exasperation softening into something warmer. “I’ll take that as a compliment. But watch it, you might make me start thinking this is… personal.”

“Maybe I want you to,” you teased, eyes sparkling. “Keep up the charm, Rafeal. The rest of the precinct already knows your type.”

As if on cue, a few detectives at nearby desks exchanged glances, whispering with barely contained smirks. Amanda nudged Sonny, nodding toward the two of you, clearly in on the silent game. Someone else whistled softly under their breath, making you roll your eyes but grin anyway.

Rafeal caught the glance too, tilting his head at you. “Looks like the office grapevine approves of us,” he murmured, voice low and playful.

“Or they’re all betting on how long it takes for you to get flustered,” you replied, leaning back, smug.

He leaned closer, just enough for you to feel the warmth, and whispered, “I’d say the odds are in my favor.”

Minutes later, he gathered his case files, straightening his suit jacket before heading toward the exit. As he passed your desk, he paused, glanced back over his shoulder, and shot you a slow, teasing wink.

You raised an eyebrow, smirking. “Leaving already?”

“Duty calls,” he said, voice low, almost a purr, “but I’ll be back… and I fully intend to win that bet.”

Nobody had been surprised when Mr. and Mrs. Carisi started fostering teens once all their own children had moved out of the house. They loved kids and they wanted meaning in their lives. What did surprise people, especially their biological kids, was when they adopted you, making you an official member of the Carisi family (though you kept your last name, the only relic of your deceased parents) and the new apple of their eyes.

You’d always been troubled, of course, after years of bouncing around the system, and it didn’t stop just because you’d been adopted by a good Catholic family. You still struggled in school and swore like a sailor and pretended you never smoked weed all while being a sensitive, vulnerable kid. The biggest bright spot was that your new ‘big brother,’ a cop with a cocky smile and a chip on his shoulder, had been protective of you since day one. He was still in college when they adopted you, so he stayed over at his parents’ place most weekends in his old room. He’d drive you to school on his way to work so you didn’t have to take the bus, stand up for you when older kids treated you like shit (nothing like a grown man with a gun on his hip to make a teenage boy run away), and always made sure you had what you needed. 

All of that meant you were much closer to him than your ‘sisters,’ who were even older and who rarely visited and never tried to include you in conversations, writing you off as too young and inexperienced to join in on their talk about careers and relationships and adult responsibilities. Mostly because of Sonny, though, you like to think you’ve done a pretty good job making yourself a respectable adult. You’ve got a full-time job, your own apartment (with roommates, but still), and a bank account with more than $50 in it for the first time in a long time. The only issue is that you’ve bounced from boyfriend to boyfriend, never finding one who met Sonny’s strict standards for you. His approval meant the world, so you kept on trying.

Rafael Barba’s by far the best boyfriend you’ve ever had. He stops by your work to drop off flowers on his way into the office, he never forgets or cancels date night, and he makes you feel like you’re worth everything in the world. You’re certain that he’s the one Sonny will finally like enough to accept. It never even crossed your innocent mind that maybe Sonny never liked your boyfriends because he was jealous.

Your mom’s practically dancing around the kitchen as you and your sisters help her prepare Thanksgiving dinner. They’d all brought their own sides, too, and the whole house smelled of garlic and butter and goodness. Nieces and nephews sprinted around the house with happy shrieks while your dad sits in the living room with the husbands watching football.

Sonny arrives after everyone else – without his fiancee, Amanda. She’s been a mainstay at family events for a few years now and everyone feels her absence but nobody says anything. Sonny plants firm kisses on your sisters’ and mom’s cheeks and then pulls you into a warm hug. You notice he holds onto you extra tight this year; things have been rocky with his Amanda lately and seeing you always makes him feel better. He gives your forehead an extra kiss, his hand still on your lower back, and asks, “How’s my baby sister, hm? Been a few weeks since I’ve gotten to see you.”

Before you can answer, your mom’s lilting out, “Y/N’s boyfriend is coming to dinner tonight, so it’s safe to say she’s doing well, I think.”

“Oh yeah?” Sonny clenches his jaw briefly as he digs in the fridge for a beer. Once he pops it open and sips it, he gives you a prying gaze. “Finally someone worthy of meetin’ ma?”

You beam, unable to conceal your excitement at the idea of your family embracing the suave, sexy man you’d come to adore over the last few weeks. “Yeah, I think so.” You check your phone and smile at a few texts from him; you love having a man who isn’t afraid to double or triple text you. “He’ll be here in half an hour; he’s wrapping up at work now.”

Sonny’s eyes narrow. “What kind of psychopath works on Thanksgiving?”

You nudge him in the ribs. “Didn’t you have court this morning, counselor?”

With a conspiratorial glance, he smirks. “Yeah, but I have an important job.”

Mock-offended only because you fully expected Sonny to be standoffish and protective, you reply, “What makes you think he doesn’t?”

He mutters, “Because all your other boyfriends have been losers.”

Your dad enters the kitchen, too, and drops a hand on Sonny’s shoulder. “Don’t be rude, junior. I feel good about this one.”

Sonny grumbles and swigs his beer. “Your good feelings let Gina marry a dud. That’s not gonna happen to Y/N if I have anything to do with it.”

With an eye roll, you excuse yourself, “I’m gonna go get dressed. Mom, I’ll come back and set the table in a minute, alright?”

She waves her hand dismissively. “Go, go, get all dolled up.”

You hear Sonny mumbling something about how you shouldn’t be dressing up for some asshole as you cross the house. Upstairs in your old bedroom, which they’d kept exactly the same, like Sonny’s, you rummage through your suitcase for the outfit you’d brought. You’re staying for the long weekend and mainly packed ugly pajamas to lounge around in while your parents wait on you hand and foot. But you brought a showstopper for tonight. For Rafael, really. Not too much for a family dinner but enough to drive him crazy. A cozy, oversized sweater to appease your family’s more conservative side but a tiny, tight skirt to encourage wandering hands in secret moments and beneath the table.

A shy knock on your door pulls your attention from touching up your makeup. “Y/N? It’s your sunshine.”

You roll your eyes; he only goes for that particular nickname when he’s trying to be cute and sweet and pathetic. Angling for sympathy. You open up the door with pursed lips. “What?”

He steps into your room and closes the door. If nothing else, it was nice of him to knock on your bedroom door instead of coming through the bathroom of the jack and jill suite you shared like he did when he was being extra annoying. “C’mon, sweetheart, don’t be like that with me.”

You shake your head and continue getting ready, slipping on a pair of sheer black over-the-knee nylons with lace details at the top. Sonny’s addicted to watching your legs move. “I won’t be like that if you won’t be like that.”

Crossing his arms over his chest, Sonny huffs, “Like what?”

“Dom,” you say seriously, putting away your things and finishing off your outfit with a pearl of pearl earrings. “I don’t want you to be an asshole to him. I know you’re my older brother, but you don’t always have to do the whole ‘bad cop’ routine. I want you to like him. I’m an adult. Treat me like one for once.”

Sonny sighs heavily. Even if he knows nobody will ever be good enough for you, he definitely doesn’t like to cause a frown on your pretty lips. “Okay, fine. Go ahead and tell me about the bast- guy, then. What do I need to know so I can play nice?”

You squeal and sit down on the bed next to him, your shoulders brushing. “He’s great, I promise. He treats me really well. Always pays for me, opens doors, shows me off to his friends.” Dreamily, you add, “I swear every word out of his mouth is more romantic than the last one. And, fuck, he’s so sexy. Like, his hands are-”

“Spare me the gory details.” Then, after a beat, you watch his eyes rove across your body in a way that feels anything but fraternal. Quietly, he asks, “And he, y’know, satisfies you?”

You snatch a pillow and bash him with it. “Sonny!”

He throws his hands up, snickering because he just said it to bug you. “That’s important in a relationship! I need to know you’re gettin’ taken care of.”

Cheeks turning deep pink, barely concealed by your foundation, you punch him on the arm, put on a voice that one-ups his, and decide to lie just to get him off your back, “You really wanna know? Fine. I always finish first. Usually more than once. He’s very good with his hands and his mouth and his dick is-”

“Okay, Jesus! I concede.” Sonny’s cheeks are even redder than yours and he stands up straight, cheating his body away from yours. He prays to god you can’t see his dick straining against his slacks. “He sounds great, kiddo, I’m glad you have someone who, ah, who takes care ‘a you.”

The truth is that, like all the guys you’ve been with, Rafael mostly gets you off by fucking you, not taking much time for foreplay. But that’s what you’re used to, so that’s what you take. You stand up with a laugh and try to keep your tone casual, blasé, as you add, “The only thing you’re not gonna like-”

“Here we fuckin’ go.”

“Dominick Carisi! Holy fuck, he’s not a murderer.” You shove him hard on the arm and sigh, “It’s just that he’s a little older than me.”

“A little?” He knows you well enough to know you don’t mean a year or two. “How much older are we talkin’ here, kid? Five years? Ten?”

Sheepishly, you cross the room to stand against the door, ready to get out of there. “I dunno. He’s, like, a few years older than you, probably.”

“Older than me?” Sonny storms over to you with fury in his blue eyes. He presses his hands to the door, trapping you between his arms. Something unfamiliar rockets up your spine as you see his taut arms on either side of your head. Matched with his aggression, it’s confusing the feelings in your stomach. “What the hell does a guy that age want to do with you? You’re a fuckin’ child!”

“Oh my god,” you protest, exasperated, “I have a bachelor’s degree and a 401k; stop treating me like a baby.” More than a little venomous, you add, “And stop acting like a pathetic jealous boyfriend. You’re gonna interrogate me about my sex life and then call me a child? You’re gross.”

At that, Sonny startles back, realizing he’s pinning you against the door, and curses under his breath. He runs his hand through his silvering hair and calms himself down with a deep breath. ‘Gross’ isn’t exactly the worst insult you’ve ever thrown his way during your heated arguments, but he knows how accurate it is this time around. Gently, pinching the bridge of his nose, he whispers. “I’m sorry. Really, I am. I’ll be nice, okay? I promise.” Taking your hand in his, Sonny touches your chin to make you look at him. You both hate fighting with each other even if your tempers match. “Forgive me, doll? Please?”

Looking into his puppy dog eyes, you sigh and say, “You know I can’t stay mad at you, sunshine.”

He wraps you up in a hug, lifting you off your feet until you shriek out a laugh, and kisses your forehead. “Thank you. Let’s go and help ma set the table, alright?”

You nod and head back out to the family behind him. In the chaos of your family, you find routine in setting out the plates and glasses just the way you know your mother likes them. Sonny, of course, follows just behind, correcting your askew silverware and rearranging centerpieces because he does it the nicest. Even you can admit that.

Before long, a knock at the door snaps you to attention. Your siblings give a low ooooh like you’re heading to the principal’s office, but you just roll your eyes, too excited to see Rafael to mind their teasing today. You practically skip across the house to the front door and fling it open, feeling Sonny only a few spaces back, ready to pounce. At the door, Rafael’s standing on your front porch in a terracotta three-piece suit, the details all cream and gold, perfectly tailored to the occasion and his strong frame. His salt-and-pepper beard is neatly trimmed and he’s got a pricey-looking bottle of wine under his arm. The picture-perfect boyfriend.

As soon as he sees you in that tiny skirt, he can’t help tugging you onto the porch with him, away from prying eyes. He kisses you hard, free hand going directly to your ass, and you melt into his commanding grasp. From the first moment, he’s known exactly how to touch you. As he nibbles up your neck, not hard enough to leave any trace but definitely enough to get you going, he groans, “God, baby, you’re so gorgeous.”

With a girlish grin, you giggle, “Hi, Rafi. You’re not so bad yourself.”

He hugs you close and sighs, “Mmm. I’m nothing next to you.”

You take a deep breath of his woodsy cologne before untangling your bodies. “Thanks for coming today. I know Thanksgiving’s kind of an intense ‘meeting the family’ date.”

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world,” he replies easily, placing another kiss on your cheek. Then he takes another look at your outfit, noticing those sinful stockings for the first time, and he’s back on you. Because you’re on the front stoop, the curtains drawn and your family clustered inside, you let him grab hungrily at your body, fingers skating underneath the skirt’s hemline as his heavy breaths drive you absolutely crazy. Against your ear, he murmurs teasingly. “Of course, we could always skip this thing and go fuck in my car.”

You giggle against his lips. “Mmm. Tempting, but I t hink my brother would come looking for me.”

“Of course,” Rafael replies, dipping down to kiss you one more time before giving you a cute wink. “Your big bad brother. Come on, let me go and charm him into submission.”

When you turn around, you bump into Sonny waiting in the doorway. Watching. A little startled by his presence, you laugh, “Speak of the devil. Dominick, this is-”

Sonny eyes Rafael up and his voice is darker and meaner than you’ve ever heard it. “Counselor Barba. What are you doing here?”

Rafael’s expression is softer, smirking. As his left hand settles possessively on your waist, Sonny watching his every move, he reaches out his right hand. Sonny shakes it; you don’t notice the way they crush each other’s grips. “ADA Carisi. Good to see you outside of the courtroom.” Then he looks down at you and chuckles, “You never mentioned that your brother works at the DA’s office.”

Of course, Rafael knew that already. He’d seen your picture on Sonny’s desk months ago when they sparred over a minor case and had casually looked over your social media profiles back then because, well, you were cute and he was only human. When it became clear that Sonny would be his opponent on one of the most high-profile cases of his career, he’d gotten familiar with your schedule, slowly deciding that there was no better way to get in the prosecutor’s head than to toy with his baby sister.

On the exact opposite end, you know they’re both lawyers, but it never even occurred to you that they might know each other. Rafael’s firm is out in the Bronx defending wrongful convictions and Sonny’s some fancy government guy in Manhattan. In your mind, they occupy completely different worlds. You ran into Rafael randomly at the Bronx zoo, bumping into you as he picked out a present for his godson, not even close to the courthouse or the precinct you associate with Sonny’s career. But there’s a tension between them that you read right away that feels deeper than your brother being protective.

Through clenched teeth, Sonny eyes Rafael and confirms, “You’re dating my baby sister? You?”

You furrow your brows and cling closer to Rafael, searching your brother’s face for an explanation. “What’s going on?”

Rafael squeezes you and kisses the side of your head, soothing your nerves slightly, and lies, “Just your classic defense lawyer versus prosecutor animosity.” He gives Sonny a challenging look. “I’m sure by the end of the night we’ll be fast friends.” He gives you a smile and caresses your cheek, every gesture oozing with affection. “After all, we both love you, nena. Right, Dominick?”

You smile and give Sonny an expectant glance and a little nod to encourage him. He looks between the two of you, feeling his stomach turn with disgust, and forces a grimace for your sake. “Sure, Rafael. We’ll get along fine.”

You squeal happily and drag Rafael deeper into the house to meet your sisters and parents. It doesn’t surprise you that he’s effortlessly charming with your mom and just the right amount of masculine with your dad. Your sisters oooh and ahh over how smart and put together he is. By the time you all sit down to eat, you’re absolutely glowing from being on his arm (and from a few heavy-poured glasses of wine he hands you, always topping off your drink without asking).

The whole evening, Sonny’s lying in wait for a moment where he can corner Rafael and strangle him to death. Or at least interrogate him. He’s torn between his desire to protect you and his desire to make you happy. His absolute disdain for Rafael Barba and his better nature to give him the benefit of the doubt. He’s only ever seen Barba as a sleazy, slimy defense attorney with a mean streak and a knack for exploiting the legal system, but it’s not like Sonny knew him personally. Work Barba and boyfriend Barba might be completely different animals. At least he hopes that’s the case.

Over the course of dinner, though, he gets the sense that Barba’s exactly the man he thought. He schmoozes your mom with a heavy dose of compliments and talks about sports with your dad like he actually watches them, which Sonny knows for a fact he doesn’t. It’s like he’s done research to make each of your family members tick, from somehow magically knowing Gina’s old college roommate to making Bella tear up with some speech about the beauty of forgiveness and motherhood. It’s all so rehearsed, so calculated, and Sonny’s disgusted by the fact that you don’t see it. 

The thing he really doesn’t like, though, is how handsy Barba is with you. During dinner, with your boys sitting on either side of you, Sonny watches how Barba’s free hand is always on your thigh, way too far between your legs for him to be comfortable with. After, you help with dishes and he stands behind you, arms around your waist, resting his chin on your shoulder. Sonny’s jealousy forces him to wonder what it must feel like to have your ass pressed up against him instead. Once the family’s moved into the living room, Sonny notices how Barba follows every time you get up, his hand possessive on your lower back or between your shoulders.

And he’s shocked most of all by the fact that, when you leave the room with Barba, all the rest of the family does is gush about how wonderful he is. Your dad would’ve killed any of your sister’s boyfriends for touching them like that, but for you, the baby, whatever you want is what makes them happiest.

It comes to a head when, after your sisters and their families have left, Rafael kisses you long and deep and says, “I think I’m turning into a pumpkin. I’m going to get ready for bed, but stay up as long as you want, nena.”

You smile up at him, catch him in another kiss, and reply, “I’ll be up in a minute, just gonna finish my wine.”

He kisses your forehead. “Perfect.”

As soon as he’s up the steps, Sonny’s voice drops low and dangerous; you’d seen him reach for his gun alongside that voice plenty of times. “Ma, are you fuckin’ kiddin’ me? You’re lettin’ some stranger stay under your roof with your daughter? Whatever happened to your-”

Dad smacks the back of his head and glares. “Don’t talk to your mother like that, junior. Rafael’s a good man and he knows our rules.”

Sonny’s hands curled into fists at his sides. “C’mon, dad, you know he’s gonna go up there and-”

You sigh as the fight continues, not wanting to listen anymore, and head upstairs without another word, leaving your unfinished wine behind. You feel Sonny’s eyes on you until you’re out of sight. Frustrated, you push open the door to your old bedroom – and find Rafael reclining on your small bed half-naked, in only his boxer briefs, playing with a skimpy, lacy pink thong you’d been planning on showing off to him tonight after you showered.

Once you’re in the bedroom, your stress melts off at his teasing gaze. “Are these an early Christmas gift for me?”

“Yeah, I think you’d look incredibly cute in pink lingerie.” You raise an amused eyebrow at him and climb onto the bed, straddling his lap and not caring that your skirt hikes up. “And why are you snooping in my suitcase?”

Rafael takes you by the hips and pulls you close, his fingers greedily running up your thighs. He lies effortlessly, “I was looking for some conditioner, amor. I thought you’d be more than thirty seconds so I figured I’d have a shower. Didn’t realize mine was empty.”

“You can shower in a minute.” With an accepting nod, you sigh and nestle into his shoulder. “I’m sorry Sonny’s been so…well, you know.”

Rafael tilts your chin up and cups your cheek. “Don’t worry about it, baby, he’s just being a good big brother.”

“He’s not,” you sigh, annoyed. “He’s being…I don’t know. Weird.” You cut him a curious look, not sure how much to pry. “You know each other, right? Why doesn’t he like you?”

Rafael shrugs nonchalantly. “I’m a defense attorney; he’s an ADA. We’re natural enemies.”

You giggle as he pushes you backwards, running his hands up underneath your sweater and beginning to massage over your unlined bra. But you try to focus as he touches you. “C’mon, I can tell it’s more than that. I’m not stupid.”

Rafael suppresses a laugh at that; if you weren’t stupid, you wouldn’t be here about to get fucked by him, blindly going along, believing his kindness, not knowing he was going to be gone before the night was up, leaving you spent and heartbroken just to get under your brother’s skin. He bites at your earlobe, trying to distract you, as he explains, “We have a case coming up against each other. You’ve probably seen it on the news already; that rapper the state is accusing of all kinds of bullshit.”

“Got it,” you breathe out as he tugs your sweater off and bends down to mouth over the tops of your breasts. “I’m sure he’ll get over it.”

Just to lay it on thick, he pauses and adds, “If I’d known he was your brother, I wouldn’t have intruded on your family dinner. I would’ve-”

“Don’t say that,” you whine, rolling your hips upward for more attention. “It doesn’t matter who my brother is; I want you to be here.” When he hikes up your skirt and shoves your panties to the side to expose your wanting pussy, you gasp out, “Need you, Rafi.”

“Is that so?” He chuckles against your lips, practically tears off his bottoms, and plunges his cock inside of you. You’re so turned on that you take all of it easily, breathless but knowing it well. “How about we stop talking about your brother and start talking about getting you off?”

You nod into his strong bicep as he starts to fuck you in earnest. It’s way too easy to get you to stop looking at whatever he doesn’t want you to. You’re too desperate for attention, for love, to ever question him when he’s taking you like this. You’ve made it so simple for him to get ‘caught’ fucking you so that he can shatter you into pieces and leave your perverted brother to clean up the mess he’s made. He knew Carisi would be so angry at him that he’d be distracted enough to lose just because of Rafael’s presence in the courtroom.

A soft knock on the door steals the moan from your throat. Sonny’s voice follows and blush shoots up to your ears. “Mom and dad went out to a movie; they wanted me to tell you before I head out. Can I get a hug to say bye, doll?”

Barba’s still unrelenting inside of you, his hand over your mouth, and he doesn’t stop as your eyes dart over to the door. He’s smirking devilishly as he calls back, “She’s, ah, indisposed at the moment. I’ll tell her to call you tonight.”

You hear the pained sigh in Sonny’s voice. The sound of him makes your pussy clench around Rafael and you pray he doesn’t notice. “C’mon, kiddo, I know you’re in there with him. I get that you’re mad at me, but-”

You accidentally let out a muffled moan against Rafael’s palm when he angles just right against your G spot. Sonny definitely hears it. His voice catches in his throat and white hot rage blanks his vision. Before you can even wonder if you remembered to lock the door, Sonny’s pushing it open and slamming it shut behind him.

You make eye contact.

You, skirt shoved up around your waist, a man’s hand over your mouth, your makeup smudged, your hair mussed. Him, anger written in his furrowed brow, sleeves rolled past his forearm, features contorted into something like a snarl. Rafael, above you, thumb firmly on your clit, fucking you senseless, moments away from making you cum.

Time slows to a stop, each beat of your heart feeling like a full minute. All you can do is watch as your brother barrels into your bed and harshly shoves Rafael off of you with a harsh growl of, “Get your fuckin’ hands off her.”

You let out a shriek and scramble up the bed to cover yourself as Rafael tumbles to the floor with a harsh thud. Sonny’s shoving Rafael’s clothes at him and creating a physical barrier between the two of you.

“Relax, Carisi,” Rafael spits as he struggles to his feet, “we were just having some fun.”

They’re chest to chest and you can barely breathe as he replies, “She’s not some toy for you to screw with.”

You try to speak, to protest, to calm things down, but it stifles in your throat when Rafael laughs, “She’s made an awfully good way to screw with you, though, hasn’t she?”

The floor drops out from under you as you realize exactly what this is. What you’ve been. A pawn in his game. Just a new type of courtroom strategy.

Sonny’s voice is made of ice. “You used my baby sister. She had no idea. She trusted you.”

“She didn’t exactly ask many questions,” Rafael chuckles, wiping spit from his lip. No shame on his face, he adds, “For such a supposedly smart girl, she was pretty easy to-”

Sonny snarls and grabs Rafael close by his shirt. “You don’t get to talk about her like that.”

“Sure I do.” Rafael sneers, “You’re mad because I touched her, but it’s not because I disrespected your sister.” His eyes are mean and cold and he’s smirking. “It’s because I beat you to it.”

Sonny clenches his jaw. “I don’t know what you think you’re talkin’ about, Counselor Barba, but you need to get the hell out of my house before you regret it.”

“Like you’d ever-”

Sonny’s fist collides with Rafael’s nose – sharp, pointed, quick. A single hit informed by a decade as a cop. Rafael staggers back. Blood streams down, staining his shirt, and he draws in a sharp hiss. He lifts his shirt to his nose and sighs, “Good luck hanging onto your license after assaulting opposing counsel.”

Sonny steps behind him and shoves him forward, toward the door. “Good luck hangin’ onto your life if you stay in this room another goddamn second.”

And Rafael’s gone.

At the same time, you realize the Rafael you thought you knew never existed in the first place.

With your bra somewhere on the other side of the room and your skirt up around your waist, you fold over yourself and cry. Your arms are wrapped around your chest and you feel so small and ashamed. Tentatively, Sonny walks over to you and touches your shoulder. He’s worried that you’re freaked out by what Barba said, especially being mostly naked, so he treads lightly. “Do you want me to leave you alone? Or should I-?”

But you grab him, tug him down next to you on the bed, and curl against his chest like you have a thousand times before. “Please don’t leave me alone.”

“Never,” he soothes as he wraps long arms around you, wholly enveloping you like only he can. As soon as you feel his comfort, your tears turn into sobs that make your body shake. Sonny holds you close and kisses the top of your head, trying so hard not to think about the way your bare breasts feel against his chest. “No, c’mon, y/n, love, don’t cry. He’s not worth it.”

You know he’s right – you should be angry, not pathetic and weepy – but you can’t help it. There’s still that small, vulnerable side of you that’ll always exist underneath your skin. So he holds you until it subsides, your tears drying up and leaving your lips and cheeks such a lovely red. Your cheeks turn even redder when you realize how naked you still are. You snatch up a blanket, pull it around your chest, and give a bashful smile. “You’re the best, Sonny.”

He wipes the tears from your cheeks with his strong hands. “You know how it is; if you need me, I’m here for you.”

You lean forward again so he’ll hold you more, which he does happily. After a minute, you murmur against his shoulder, knowing you’re staining his shirt with makeup, “I always need you.”

“Doesn’t seem like that much anymore,” Sonny laughs softly. “You’re all grown up now. Don’t need your mean big brother to fight your battles.”

“Clearly I do,” you snort and give his hand a quick squeeze. “Thank you, Sonny, for always watching out for me.”

He presses his lips to your forehead and sighs, “That’s what I’m here for.”

You hold onto his shirt a little too tight and ask with a wobbly tone, “Stay over tonight, sunshine?”

Sonny sighs, voice fraught with regret at what he’s about to say. “I’m supposed to go over to Manda’s and-”

“Forget I asked,” you dismiss with a wave. You try to offer up a brave smile. “I’ll see you for Sunday dinner anyway, right?”

Sonny pauses. He looks at the softness written all over your face and can’t resist giving in. “I’ll stay, baby girl. If you need me, I’ll stay.”

You pick at the skin by your thumbnail. “What about Amanda?”

“She won’t miss me,” he sighs. “You’re my girl anyway, right? At the end ‘a the day, I need to be there for you a lot more than I need to grovel for her to forgive me.”

Your brows furrow; Amanda’s always been way too critical of Sonny. To you, he can never do anything wrong. “What did you do?”

“She hasn’t told me yet,” he jokes, trying to change the topic. There’s a little bit of an edge to it, though. There always is. He pats your thigh, letting his hand linger, and says, “Let’s get you ready for bed. Y’need some rest after all that bullshit.”

With a sigh, you nod and hop out of bed. Sonny politely averts his eyes as you find your bra and tug it back on followed by shimmying your skirt back over your butt. That’ll do for now. You open up the door to your shared bathroom, his bedroom on the other side of it, and shake your head. “I just don’t know why I always go for men who just- who just wanna fuck me and then get rid of me.” As he follows behind, you look over him like you might find the answers in his eyes. “What’s wrong with me? Don’t I deserve better than that?”

Leaning on the countertop next to you, Sonny’s on the verge of tears as he says, “Don’t ever doubt yourself like that. You deserve to know what it’s like to have sex with someone who actually cares about you. Who isn’t just usin’ you. You deserve everything good, kid.”

You sniffle, mascara still running down your cheeks as you gaze at him with red-rimmed eyes. “I really thought I had it this time. Love, I mean. Respect. I thought he-” You sigh and huff at yourself. “God, I’m so stupid.”

“Hey, wait,” Sonny protests. He catches your wrist and says, “You’re not stupid. Assholes take advantage ‘a you because of everything you’ve been through. They see how sensitive you are. How sweet. How good. But that doesn’t say anything about you, got it? It says somethin’ about them that they think it’s okay to hurt you.”

You try to sit with that, holding onto Sonny’s praise with everything you have. After a quick, gentle touch to his face, you grab a makeup wipe and roughly remove the mask you’d put on for yet another man who’d never treat you the way you wanted to be treated. Sonny watches as you wash your face until it’s pink and clean.

With your hair down and your skin fresh, you go back to the bedroom and rummage through your suitcase, grabbing a pair of soft lounge shorts and a ratty old NYPD tee that Sonny had given you when he left the force. This time, you turn around to change, and Sonny drinks in the view of your back as you unhook your bra and tug on the familiar shirt without it holding you back. He can’t bring himself to drop his gaze when you bend over to peel off your stockings. He gets an ever-so-brief look at your pussy when you touch your feet and the sight goes directly between his legs. Clearing his throat, trying to sound casual, he stares unabashedly at your ass as you wiggle out of that too-small skirt and into something cozy.

“There we go,” you sigh and turn around, “back to myself.” Finally, you look at him with a sad little smile and shrug. “Who was I trying to fool, anyway? Nobody’s ever gonna want me like that.”

It’s too much.

He can’t bear to watch you, so effortlessly beautiful and kind and sweet, disparage yourself for another second. In a few long strides, he crosses the bedroom, takes your face between his strong hands, and kisses you without hesitation. Shock bubbles up in your chest and widens your eyes, but it softens quickly as you begin to melt. His lips are more tender than you’ve ever felt. A barely audible whimper falls from your throat and pools in your gut. You step onto your toes and let your hands go to his chest, feeling the strong muscles underneath his clothes.

But, despite your obvious want for more, Sonny doesn’t push. He pulls back. He presses his forehead to yours and closes his eyes. With a shaky voice, Sonny admits out loud for the first time, “I already want you like that, doll.” Brushing your cheek with his thumb, he murmurs, “I swear, baby girl, you’re so worth it all. You’re worth everything. I wish- I’m sorry nobody’s been able to show you that before.”

“Show me,” you whisper, desperate and needy. You take his large hands in yours, dwarfing your little fingers, and place them at your waist. An invitation. “Show me what it’s supposed to be like.”

Sonny drags in a long breath. He’s never been so tempted by anything; he’s reciting the lord’s prayer when he hasn’t been to mass in a decade. His voice is gravelly and mournful. “You don’t mean that, kiddo. I shouldn’t’a done that. Kissed you like you’re not my- I’m sorry. We shouldn’t-”

You cut him off with a kiss so soft it’s barely a breath. Then you tell him, “Don’t let my heart get broken twice in one night, Sonny. I need you.”

When  you say that, every dam inside of Sonny breaks. His hands tighten on your waist and then slink around to pull you into an embrace. “Oh, love. I’m so sorry.”

You breathe in his sharp, masculine cologne, letting it steady you. “For what?”

“You just needed me this whole time,” he breathes, looping his arms underneath your ass. He hikes you up off your feet and you cling to him as a giggle boils from your lungs. Nobody’s ever swept you off your feet so literally. He spins you around, drops you on the bed, and bears down on you in one fluid motion. His lips go to your neck and you whine for more, so much more, as he says, “I’m sorry for not givin’ it to you sooner.”

He kisses you again. You can’t believe how different it is from kissing any boy you’ve been with before. His lips aren’t frantic. It doesn’t feel like he’s just killing time to get from one thing to the next. To push you forward.

Sharing breath with you, he promises, “Gonna treat you so good, baby. The way you deserve. Nobody’s ever gonna hurt you again.”

Still feeling the sting of Rafael’s actions from earlier, you mutter, “You can’t promise that, Dom.”

His look is deathly serious when he pulls back. Sounding possessive and intense and warm and adoring, he assures you, “If we’re doin’ this, then we’re doin’ it all the way. You’re movin’ in with me and I’m gonna take care ‘a you.” His hand is on your neck but it’s not threatening or controlling; it’s grounding. It’s a foundation. “No more Amanda. No more boyfriends or hookups. If you’re mine,” he repeats, “nobody’s ever gonna hurt you again.” He slips down and removes your sleep shorts. When he spreads your legs and finally gets a full-on look at you, his voice is so thick with arousal it makes you squirm. Once again, he insists, “I’m gonna take care ‘a you, baby girl. You’re never gonna worry about anything.”

Then he drops down to your pussy, musky and ripe from already having sex once tonight, and inhales deeply. Consuming you. You expect him to be ravenous, to take, but he’s not. He’s so slow. He noses along your inner thighs, kissing lightly and activating the nerves on your soft skin. It’s almost ticklish but not quite. Spine tingling. His hands drag around your hips and waist, drawing you close, worshipping your every inch.

By the time he actually puts his mouth on you, you’re done for. A loud moan billows out of you and Sonny smiles into your cunt. “That’s right, angel, lemme hear how good I’m makin’ you feel.”

No sooner are the words out than he’s back on you. His tongue is mature and experienced and it’s clear there’s nothing on his mind other than getting to explore the depth of you. He’s gentle on your sensitive, swollen clit, keeping his tongue nice and flat and slow. Somehow that’s a thousand times hotter than if he fucked you hard and fast likes you’re used to. By not rushing, he’s showing you just how much he wants to be there. This isn’t about getting his dick wet; it’s about making you his.

When he slips two of his slender fingers inside of you, your whole body arches and tenses. Fuck fuck fuck. He curls his fingers back toward himself, right against your G spot, knowing how to stroke it firmly to make you roil. “That’s it, doll.” He smiles up at you, lips slick with your wetness, as you buck onto his fingers. when he touches his thumb to your clit, adding just the right amount of pressure, you whine loud and true. He praises, “Just like that. So good for me. God, your pussy’s pretty. Beggin’ for as much as I’ll give her.” As he kneels back down again, he says, “You’re beautiful, baby. I’ve gotta taste you when you cum.”

Now accompanied by his fingers, Sonny takes your clit once more. He’s thorough and sweet, only getting faster and harder until he finds the exact pitch and tempo that has you moaning and writhing to every single touch. And then he keeps you there. Not a single change to rush you through it or keep you away so he can fuck you. No, he works on your pussy like it’s a case, checking every box and leaving nothing unturned.

Warmth tightens in your abdomen and Sonny groans against you, feeling the contraction of your cunt around his fingers. He doesn’t let up at all, working you through it, making sure to give you every second of pleasure he can. If he’s going to blow up his own life for you, it’s going to be worth it. When you cum, shattering apart, he clings to you, savoring the new rush of sweeter slickness that coats his fingers as you clamp down over and over. He can’t wait to feel that same sensation around his cock, milking him dry.

Sonny brings you slowly back down to earth. When he removes his fingers, you sigh out heavily at the lack of fullness. You miss him filling you in any way you can get, even as he props himself up on his elbows to kiss you. Still breathless, you kiss him back, tasting yourself on his tongue, and grip his hair and beg, “Fuck me, Sonny.”

“I don’t usually bring condoms to holiday dinners,” he chuckles, clearly struggling to resist you. He can feel the heat radiating from between your legs against his clothed thigh. “Next time, love, I promise.”

You sigh, but you know he’s right because he always is. Soft and sure, you reply, “I like the sound of ‘next time.’”

“Oh, there’s definitely gonna be a next time,” he says with a lopsided grin that only comes out when he’s blissfully happy. He peppers kisses over your face until you’re laughing, too, and tells you between them, “When I leave in the morning, I’m breakin’ up with Amanda, pickin’ you up, and never lettin’ go again.”

For some reason, you feel like crying. His tenderness unravels everything you’ve been holding onto. A little tentative, you tell him, “I love you, sunshine.”

"Right...and what makes you qualified to make that determination?"

You glared at him. "Eight years of education and ten years of practice."

"Fine, but how long did you actually talk to him?" he countered.

"Four hours."

"So now you're an expert in his mental health?"

You groaned. "He belongs in a psychiatric facility, Barba. Not a prison."

"I disagree. He raped and murdered five women."

"I'm not defending his actions, but I'm telling you he's incapable of understanding the consequences of his actions."

"She's right, counselor," Olivia Benson cut in. "I got the same feeling she did when I first talked to him."

Rafael Barba let out an annoyed huff. "Fine. What do you propose?"

"Offer him a deal," she suggested. "Send him where he can get the help he needs."

Barba nodded, expression still slightly annoyed. "Fine." With that, he walked out of the precinct, presumably to go write up a deal.

As soon as he was out of ear shot, you turned to your friend and colleague. "He argues with me for ten minutes straight, but you tell him the same damn thing and he immediately agrees?"

Olivia shrugged. "You know how he is."

"Pompous, arrogant, rude, and downright insulting?"

She laughed. "All of the above, but he's also a pretty damn good ADA."

You sighed. "I would absolutely love to disagree with you, but you're not wrong. Part of me hates that he's so good at his job. And I hate his smug face and his attitude and those damn three piece suits he looks so goddamn good in," you finished your ramble with a groan.

"Maybe if you told him you thought he was hot, he'd be nicer to you," Olivia said with a wink.

"I hate you."

She laughed. "No you don't."

"Fine, I don't, but I will do no such thing. He quite clearly despises me."

"Does he?"

"Does who what?" Nick Amaro asked as he entered the squad room.

"Does Barba hate (Y/N)?" Olivia asked.

Nick chuckled. "Without a doubt."

"See?!" you said smugly.

Olivia rolled her eyes. "One of these days you're going to have to talk to him. Tell him off for being such an ass to you all the time."

"Now that I agree with," Nick cut in.

"If he pushes the right buttons, I will."

**********

Little did you know that two days later, Barba would push the exact right button.

Olivia, Nick, Amanda, Fin, and yourself were gathered in the squad room discussing your latest case. You had two dead girls in two days and 1PP was already breathing down your necks.

You were going over the profile with the team when Barba walked in. "I know it sounds crazy, guys, but I believe the perp is a girl...probably the same age as the victims."

"Why?" Fin asked.

As you started to explain your reasoning, to include the lack of sexual assault, the relationship between the two girls, and the anger clearly present in the attacks, Barba cut you off with a harsh laugh.

"You think a 10 year old girl is capable of inflicting that kind of trauma?" he interjected. "There's no way."

You took a deep breath in through your nose and exhaled from your mouth before responding. You needed those ten seconds to calm yourself so you didn't murder him. "Were you ever a 10 year old girl?"

He raised his eyebrows. "Obviously not."

"Are you a forensic psychologist?"

"Again, no."

"Have you been working violent sex crimes for 10 years?"

"No..."

"Then be quiet and listen," you finished harshly.

You'd never snapped at him quite so intensely before and he was taken aback. He was also very aware that he may have taken it a little too far this time. He'd made it a point to keep you at arm's length (or farther) for the past 6 months, and he was belatedly realizing he may have been too cruel.

You finished your profile, answering the questions posed by the rest of the squad, before everyone went about their assigned duties.

Barba announced he was going back to his office to update the DA and you were thankful to be rid of him.

"Maybe you were right, (Y/N)," Olivia said softly. "He either hates you or he hates shrinks."

"Likely both."

"I'm proud of you for clapping back," Amanda said warmly. "Someone's gotta put that guy in his place every once in a while."

You smiled mirthlessly. "Once this case is over, I may have more to say to him, but for now, let's focus on finding the person who killed those girls."

**********

Three days later and you had your suspect in custody. You'd been right in your assessment of the perp...it turned out to be a 10 year old girl who had been relentlessly teased and bullied by the two victims for an entire year. The girl finally snapped and killed them both in a blind rage.

After hearing all of the terrible things that had been done to her, you felt sorry for the girl. You understood why she'd killed those girls, even if you didn't condone it.

"Hey, (Y/N/N)," Fin called. "We're going out for drinks. My treat."

"I think I'll take a rain check guys...I've got something I need to do."

"Awww no fun," Amanda teased.

Olivia gave you a look, but you smiled at her reassuringly. She took it to mean you were okay, so she followed the others out.

You'd decided to pay a very special visit to a certain ADA...

You arrived at his office 20 minutes later, and you belatedly realized you probably should have checked to see if he was even there still. It was already after 6pm, but you hoped since he was a workaholic, he would be unaware of the late hour.

When you reached his office door, you found yourself taking a deep breath. You started to question yourself and whether this was a good idea, but then you thought about the way he'd been treating you and you got a burst of courage.

You knocked on his door and waited. You heard a slightly annoyed "Come in", so you opened the door and stepped into his office.

Barba looked up from the paperwork he was buried in, a look of surprise ghosting over his face. "Dr. (Y/L/N)...to what do I owe the pleasure?"

You shut the door behind you and took a step towards his desk. "Do you have a problem with me?"

"Excuse me?" he asked in surprise.

"Do you have a problem with me, specifically, or is it psychologists in general?"

"I don't have a problem with psychologists."

"So it's me, got it. Do you mind telling me what the hell I did to you?"

He had the grace to look sheepish. "You didn't do anything to me."

"Then why do you treat me like I'm some sort of imbecile?"

"I...I never intended to make you feel that way," he said honestly.

"Really? How did you intend to make me feel? You belittle me, insult my abilities and my intelligence, you're unnecessarily rude to me in front of my colleagues..." you trailed off.

He rose from his seat and came around the front of his desk. His expression was unreadable, but his shoulders had slumped slightly. If you didn't know better, you'd think he actually felt bad for the way he'd been treating you.

"You're right," he admitted. "I have treated you entirely unfairly."

It was your turn to look surprised. Out of all the things you'd expected him to say, an admission of guilt was certainly not one of them.

"I don't want you to think, for even a moment, that I don't think you're brilliant. You are the sharpest woman I have ever had the pleasure of meeting and you're downright phenomenal at your job."

You opened your mouth and closed it a few times before you could formulate a coherent response. "How in the hell was I supposed to know that?"

He blushed and cast his gaze to the floor. "I suppose there was no way for you to know, given the way I've treated you."

"Why, then?" you asked softly.

He sighed deeply and ran his hand over his face. "It's--complicated."

"Enlighten me, Barba. I've got time."

His green eyes raised back up to meet yours and you found yourself nearly breathless--and not for the first time. His eyes were beautiful, typically sparkling with whit and mischief; but in this moment, they shone with emotions so complex you couldn't begin to comprehend them.

"I never intended to be cruel to you, only distant. But I found that being aloof wasn't enough to keep you at bay--I needed something stronger. So...I started treating you as if I hated you. It was just easier, and perhaps safer."

"Safer?"

He nodded, but neglected to clarify. "Keeping you out of my life has become a necessity, Dr. (Y/L/N)."

His formality annoyed you, but you didn't comment on it. "Then why didn't you just tell me you didn't like me?"

He groaned and turned back to his desk to pour himself a glass of scotch. "Because it's not true, and I'm many things, but a liar isn't one of them."

"Okay, but you want nothing to do with me?"

"Exactly."

"You do understand how contradictory that sounds, correct?"

He took a long drink from his glass and leaned back against his desk. "It sounds moronic, yes, I am aware."

You debated your next words with care. You knew if you said what was on your mind, you might regret it, but you also knew if you didn't say it, you would regret it.

"When I met you, I was instantly intrigued by you," you began. "It was obvious you were highly intelligent, but you were also funny, charming, and impeccably well-dressed. It's a rare combination."

You crossed your arms and sighed. "At first, you were friendly and I quite liked you, but things between us turned icy in an instant. I didn't understand it then and I don't understand it now, but what I can tell you is it hurt me. It hurt me deeply, Barba, and it still does."

If he'd felt like an ass before, he felt 1,000 times worse now. "I never intended to hurt you," he said quietly. "You're a kind and loving soul...and you don't deserve to be treated the way I've been treating you."

"You're right," you whispered. "I don't."

He winced slightly and downed the rest of his scotch. "I am truly sorry, (Y/N). More than you'll ever know."

His use of your first name was not lost on you. You could count on one hand the number of times he'd said it and you'd reacted the same way each time. Your eyes fluttered closed for a moment, your breath caught, and your heart began to speed up.

Rafael had never noticed before...had never really paid attention to you the very few times he'd said your name, but he saw your reaction this time. For the first time since he'd met you, he began to wonder if you shared his feelings...

You quickly recovered yourself--praying he hadn't noticed. "I appreciate your apology." Your voice was slightly off pitch and you wanted to kick yourself for letting any emotion show.

"May I ask you something?" he said suddenly.

You nodded, not trusting your voice in the moment.

"You said what you thought of me when we first met--what do you think of me now?"

"Do you really want to know?"

He nodded.

You swallowed thickly. "Everything I said is true. You're a brilliant man and an even better lawyer...and you can be funny and charming, when you want to be. But that's not the Rafael Barba I get. I get the one reserved for the criminals and defense attorneys you dislike. The ones that make your skin crawl. You're pompous, arrogant, and cruel."

He closed his eyes tightly. Hearing you say what you really thought of him was much more painful than he'd anticipated.

"But I don't believe that's who you really are," you said so softly he almost didn't hear.

He looked back up at you in surprise.

"I think it's a facade you put up--a mask you wear to hide behind."

"What makes you think that?"

"Call it intuition, or perhaps training," you said with a shrug. "Either way, I am certain you really are the man I met in the beginning--not the man you've been the past several months."

"How could you have that much faith in me? After the way I've treated you..."

"Perhaps it's foolish...or maybe I just want it to be true."

He stared at you with a strange look on his face. It was as if he was trying to decide if you were playing him or being sincere. His expression slowly morphed as he realized you'd meant every word you'd said.

"May I be honest with you?" he asked.

"I want nothing less."

"Truthfully, I'm terrified of you. Absolutely, 100%, completely terrified."

Your jaw dropped slightly. Once again, he’d caught you off guard.

"You got under my skin the moment I met you and I haven't been able to get rid of you since. I've never felt like this--like I can't control my own actions or my emotions--and it's petrifying. I thought pushing you away would change how I felt, but it only intensified it. I think that's why I became crueler over time--I was angry at myself and angry with you for making me feel this way. It's not fair to you, I know, but it's the truth."

You were once again shocked to the core. You almost couldn't believe what you were hearing...if you weren't so good at reading people, you'd be convinced he was lying, but as it stood, you knew it was the raw, painful truth.

"You can't control everything, you know," you said quietly.

He laughed harshly. "God, how I wish I could."

"What are you so afraid of?"

He took a moment to answer, but once he did, the words poured out of him. "I'm afraid the way I feel about you will ruin both of our careers. I'm afraid that once you see the man behind the mask, you'll run and leave me broken. I'm afraid that we'll fall apart...that we won't stand the test of time. I'm afraid of falling so deeply in love with you that I lose myself completely. But most of all, I'm afraid that I've already screwed this up beyond repair."

For all your education and all the eloquent words you've learned in your lifetime, you found yourself stunned into complete and utter silence. No words came to mind, no coherent thoughts emerged. You stared at him and he stared at you, as the silence dragged on.

After what had to be an eternity, Rafael spoke again. "Please say something. Anything. Tell me you hate me. Tell me you never want to see my face again. Tell me you'd rather jump off a building than be with me--"

"Stop!" The intensity of your demand silenced him. "Just stop talking…I…I can't find the words I want to say, but I do know one thing: I'm not afraid."

Out of all the things you could have said, all the beautiful sentences you could have strung together, those three words were the perfect response. Fueled with sudden courage, Rafael crossed the space between the two of you in three long strides, coming to a stop a few inches from you.

With a shaking hand, he gently stroked your cheek. "May I?" he asked quietly.

Your pretty (y/e/c) eyes met his and you softly begged, "Please."

He leaned into you, lips pressing against yours with soft insistence. The kiss ignited something within you--a desire so deep and powerful it almost frightened you. You grabbed ahold of his suspenders and tugged his body closer to yours as you deepened the kiss.

Rafael moaned softly against your lips, tongue pressing forward, requesting access. You obliged, lips parting to allow him entry. His hands traveled down your soft curves until they landed on your hips. He used his gentle strength to pull you flush against him, his own body backed up against his desk to support him.

You could feel his need for you in his kiss, in his touch...and in his pants. His growing erection was pressed against you, so close to where you wanted him, yet so far away.

Rafael broke the kiss for a moment. "Carmen left for the day."

"Mhmm," you hummed in response.

"But I don't want our first time together to be on the couch in my office."

"How 'bout the desk?" you teased lightly.

He groaned. "Don't think I haven't imagined it, but I'd like to take you home...do this properly--in a bed."

You stared at him for a moment. "If we stay here, it can be casual, unassuming. If I go home with you...that changes everything."

"I don't want casual. I don't want a fling. I want you--and everything that comes along with that."

You studied him closely before responding. You noted the sincerity in his voice and his expression and decided to--for once--allow your heart to lead your decision. "Take me home, Rafael," you whispered.

He breathed deeply, as if trying to control himself. It appeared that you had the same effect on him as he did on you when you called him by his first name.

He didn't say a word--you weren't even sure he could have if he'd wanted to. He simply grabbed his jacket, took your hand, and practically dragged you to the elevator. Once outside, he hailed a cab and helped you into the backseat before sliding in beside you.

As the cab began to move, you rested your hand on Rafael's thigh. He glanced at you, but didn't say anything. You were feeling bold, so you slid your hand slowly up his thigh, inching closer to his evident arousal.

When your fingertips brushed against his clothed cock, he hissed slightly. He leaned over to whisper into your ear so the cab driver wouldn't hear. "Careful, querida. O puedo perder el control [Or I may lose control]."

You inhaled sharply--something about his tone mixed with the hushed Spanish words, sent a jolt of pure arousal straight to your core.

Your reaction didn't go unnoticed by Rafael. He smirked as he discovered one of your kinks. He tucked the knowledge away for later use.

You managed to behave yourself for the rest of the short ride to his apartment, but once inside the building, all bets were off.

His lips were on yours the moment the elevator doors slid closed, pressing your body firmly against the wall. Your fingers tangled in his hair, messing up the perfect locks.

As the elevator dinged and the doors began to open, you reluctantly pulled away from each other. You saw the desperation in his beautiful green eyes and you knew the same look reflected in yours.

He wasted no time guiding you to his apartment and the moment you were both inside, he had you spun around and pressed up against the door.

“Querida,” he whispered hungrily against your lips, fingertips dancing under your shirt.

You moaned softly as you tugged harshly on his suspenders, pushing them out of the way so you could remove his shirt.

Within moments, your clothes and his were strewn across the house as he carried you to his bedroom, nothing left between you but underwear.

Rafael tossed you gently onto the bed before climbing on top of you. He eyed you hungrily—sprawled out beneath him, desire evident on your face.

“You are perfect, hermosa.”

You blushed. “Rafa…”

He groaned. “Fuck. Don’t do that.”

Confusion clouded your expression. You didn’t think you’d done anything wrong…

He’d closed his eyes and his face gave away the internal struggle he was experiencing.

Realization suddenly crossed your features and you grinned. You gently raked your nails down his chest as you murmured the nickname again, “Rafa.”

His eyes shot open and he rutted his hips against yours, mouth pressing wet kisses to your heated skin. His teeth nipped at your neck and collarbone, leaving love bites in his wake.

He was taking his time with you. Wanting to explore every part of you, taste every inch of your skin, catalogue every detail in his mind.

You whimpered softly, not used to such attention, nor such deliberate slowness. “Rafael, please.”

He looked up at you with his trademark smirk. “You ever been with a Hispanic man before, Cariño?”

You blushed and shook your head.

His smirk widened. “We like to take our time, make sure our lady is properly loved and appreciated. This is about your enjoyment, (Y/N/N), not mine.”

“I want you to enjoy yourself too…”

He kissed you gently. “You keep making those pretty sounds for me, querida, and I promise you, I’ll enjoy myself.”

You found yourself unable to respond as he continued his slow descent towards your core. Each gentle caress of his lips against your skin seemed to set your nerve endings on fire--the need within you growing exponentially.

You whined prettily, hips shifting upwards, desperately seeking his lips where you needed them most. "Please," you begged.

You didn't know it yet, but Rafael would never deny you--not in the real world, nor the bedroom. The moment he heard your soft voice begging, he glanced up at your face. You already looked so far gone--your hair was a mess, your lips swollen, your cheeks flushed, and your breathing was ragged. He smiled to himself as he lowered his head, giving you no time to adjust as he dove into you with abandon.

You gasped as the pleasure threatened to overwhelm you. As skilled as the man between your legs was in the courtroom, he was even better suited with his mouth hungrily devouring you.

In the span of mere minutes, he'd turned you into a gasping, moaning mess--every one of your senses overwhelmed with feeling.

"Rafa--I--I'm close," you gasped.

He hummed against you, lips wrapping around your clit to increase his assault. His fingers dug into the flesh of your hips, holding you in place as he sped up his ministrations.

Your jaw dropped as a flurry of sounds--some of which were intended to be his name--slipped from your lips. Your orgasm sent wave after wave of intense pleasure through your body, but that pleasure soon turned to sensitivity.

"Rafa, too much--" you whispered as you tried to pull away from him.

He laid his arm across your lower belly, effectively holding you in place as his mouth continued to work you. His eyes flicked up to yours to check if you really did want him to stop, but your head was already thrown back, chest rising and falling rapidly as the familiar knot tightened in your stomach.

The moment your cries turned to moans and pleas to continue, Rafael stopped and lifted his head. "Did you want me to stop, querida?"

"No!" you cried loudly, fingers grasping his hair in an attempt to guide him back where you wanted him.

He smirked as he complied with your direction, lips and tongue once again sending you into a spiral of pleasure you'd never experienced before.

As you came down from your second high, Rafael finally slowed his assault and allowed you to pull his head up when it became too much.

He placed soft kisses against your heated skin, gently soothing you as the aftershocks shuddered through your body. His lips traced the curves of your face with gentle affection until your breathing had begun to normalize.

Rafael kissed you deeply, desire evident in the action. In response, your hand slowly descended down his chest and abdomen, until you reached his throbbing cock. You lightly ran your nails across the still clothed member, enticing a groan from the man above you.

You teased him for a few more seconds before sliding your hand beneath his boxer briefs and palming his cock in your warm hand. He groaned loudly--hips rutting against your hand instantly.

"I wanna taste you," you murmured against the shell of his ear.

"You don't have to..." he said softly.

There was something in his voice that caused you to pull away so you could see his face properly. He looked worried and perhaps a little apprehensive.

"But I want to," you reassured him.

"You do?"

You nodded. "It's something I enjoy very much, Rafa, so if you're okay with it, I would really like to suck your cock."

His eyes closed briefly and he moaned softly, forehead dropping against yours. "Por favor," he begged in a broken voice.

You grinned ear to ear. "Stand up."

"Qué?" he asked in confusion.

You nudged him gently and tilted your head towards the edge of the bed. "Stand up, handsome."

He did as you asked and watched in surprise as you lowered yourself to your knees on the floor in front of him. He felt like he needed to remind you again that you didn't need to do this for him, but when he saw the hunger in your eyes, he fell silent.

You slowly dragged his underwear down, freeing his cock from its constraints. You were a little surprised by his size--he was longer than average and quite thick--but surprise quickly turned to hunger.

You looked up at him, a playful smirk dancing on your lips, and all his worries faded away. It was obvious you wanted this...perhaps just as much as he did.

You wasted no time in wrapping your mouth around his cock, taking as much of him into your mouth as you could, eyes never leaving his face.

You gagged slightly as he hit the back of your throat, but you pushed past it, determined to provide him with as much pleasure as you could muster.

As you began to move, his fingers intertwined in your hair and his hips stuttered forwards occasionally. You knew what he needed, but it was clear he wasn't going to do it without some prodding.

You pulled off of him with a *pop* and waited until his heavily lidded eyes met yours. "Rafael, I want you to enjoy this."

"I am, cariño," he said in confusion.

"Not as much as you could be." You licked the tip of his cock for emphasis and his hips jumped slightly. "I want you to use my mouth for your own pleasure, Rafa. That's what it's there for."

He shook his head rapidly. He'd been expressly told not to do that by several women before you.

You rubbed his thighs reassuringly. "I want this, baby. Please," you begged. "Please fuck my mouth."

The moment the words were out of your mouth, you sucked his cock back into the warmth of your lips, hoping he would take you seriously. You pressed yourself forward, pushing past the gag reflex to take his entire member into your mouth.

Without hesitation, you began to guide his hips, urging him to give in and take what he wanted--what he needed.

You flicked your gaze up to meet his and nodded your head as best you could, hands still encouraging him to move. He very tentatively began to move his hips and you smiled, fingers digging into his thighs.

When you didn't pull away, he started to put a little more force into the movements. When you still didn't pull away, he sped up, fingers wrapping in your hair to keep you still.

You let him take control, eyes still trained on his face. He slowly began to thrust in earnest, fucking your mouth like it was his favorite place to be. You watched his head fall back, moans of intense pleasure leaving his lips.

You held onto him and focused on breathing as you let him use you. A few minutes passed before his hips began to stutter and you knew he was close.

You prepared to swallow everything he had to give you, but he surprised you by pulling away, your mouth coming off of him with a *pop*.

His breathing was ragged and his eyes were wild--pupils blocking out the brilliant green. "I need you," he said, voice raw and husky.

You understood his meaning and quickly crawled back onto the bed. He was on top of you almost immediately, lips latching onto your neck, teeth nipping at your flesh.

His cock rubbed against the outside of your pussy and you both groaned.

"Fuck," he mumbled. "Do I need a condom?"

"Pill," you gasped as you shook your head. "Wanna feel you fill me up, Rafa."

He let out a low growl and his eyes turned even more feral. He gave you no warning as he plunged his cock deep inside of you, stretching you in ways you'd never been stretched before.

"Rafael!" you cried out at the sensation.

Normally he would have forced himself to give you time to adjust, but his mind was too far gone. He set a brutal pace almost instantly and you were simply along for the ride.

There were so many new sensations that you were having a hard time staying focused. Everything just felt so incredible.

Your pussy throbbed around him, pulling him in even deeper. "Te sienetes muy bien, querida." [You feel so good, sweetheart.]

You moaned loudly, nails digging into his back as you arched against him.

"Te gusta cuando te hablo español, ¿no?" he growled into your ear. [You like it when I speak Spanish to you, don't you?"]

"Yes!" you gasped.

"Chica sucia," he chuckled darkly. [Dirty girl.]

"Rafa, please--I'm so close."

He groaned. "Quiero que vengas conmigo, cariño," he mumbled. [I want you to cum with me, sweetheart.] "Can you do that for me?" he asked in English.

You nodded your head rapidly.

"Esa es mi buena chica," he praised. [That's my good girl.]

You moaned lowly, preening at his praise. He smiled and picked up his pace, not wanting to stop until he felt you fall apart. "So close," he mumbled.

"Don't--stop!"

He knew you were close--could tell by the way your pussy fluttered around him--so he whispered, "Cum for me, baby."

You cried out as your orgasm hit you with more force than either of the two you'd had earlier. Rafael groaned your name as he spilled his seed within you, filling you up as your walls milked him dry.

You both began to come down from your highs, the intensity of your orgasms taking the wind out of both of you. Rafael pulled out and collapsed beside you, completely spent and satiated.

"That was pretty decent," you said between breaths.

He snapped his head in your direction and started to laugh when he saw the mischief in your eyes.

You grinned and joined in on his laughter, allowing him to wrap his arms around you and pull you closer to him.

"Very decent," he muttered against your hair.

You laughed again. "'Fucking incredible' would be a more accurate description."

"I couldn't agree more." He sighed softly. "I don't wanna move."

"Who says we have to?"

"We probably should...we do have work in the morning after all."

Your body tensed slightly and he felt it, realizing how his previous statement may have sounded. "I want you to stay, querida. I'm just saying we should probably get up and shower before we fall asleep."

You relaxed. "You may have to carry me."

He chuckled and dragged himself out of bed, pulling you along with him. He scooped you up despite your protests and carried you to the bathroom, placing you on the counter while he started the shower.

"I was kidding, Rafa!"

He smiled. "If my girl can walk immediately after sex, then I did something wrong. I'm always happy to carry you."

You smiled back at him, realizing he was completely serious. You watched him quietly, completely lost in thought.

"Where's your mind, querida?" he asked softly.

You shook your head, clearing your thoughts. "I'm happy...that's all."

Rafael kissed you gently. "Me too, hermosa. Now come on, let's get you cleaned up."

Once you were both clean and dry, he carried you back to his bed and laid you down gently before crawling into the bed beside you. He tugged you in closely against his chest and you sighed contentedly.

"Go to sleep, cariño. I'll be here in the morning when you wake up."

Somehow he seemed to know exactly what you needed to hear. Knowing he wasn't going anywhere and feeling his strong arms wrapped around you, allowed you to feel a calm peace you'd not felt in years.

His long fingers were wrapped around your wrist as they were pinned above your head and being pressed into the wall. His lips, which were surprisingly warm pressing into your skin, the feeling of his beard along with his lips making you shiver as they ran along your skin. His fingers toyed with the hem of your skirt and he chuckled into your neck when you let out a whine when he moved his hand away for a moment. His hand was soon back to where it started and you shivered again, pressing your chest into his more by aching your back as his hand was still making its way up the inside of your thigh. You were so wrapped up with the feeling of his soft palm on your skin that you startled when his lips where at your ear, his breath also warm hitting your skin,

“I was proud of you today” Rafael whispered in your ear, his long pointer finger now running along the lace edge of your panties “Did Liv know you came here? She wouldn’t be very pleased.”

“No” you gasped back shaking your head slightly as his fingers started to push into the side of your panties more, making their way to your very wet core “I don’t really care what Liv would have to say right now” You locked eyes with his beautiful green ones.

“She will need to know eventually, mi amor” Rafael said firmly in a voice that usually only had one reaction from you as he slid two fingers into your warm centre “So wet for me Y/N, you like when I talk to you like that, don’t you?” Rafael twisted his fingers inside you, pointing them upwards to hit your sweet spot and you nodded “Use your words Y/N”

“Yes Sir” you moaned as Rafael’s fingers moved inside you.

“Good Girl” Rafael rolled his hips into your thigh, his hard cock pocking you.

Your eye’s locked with Rafael’s again and he could feel your core starting to clench around him, your mouth dropped open slightly, a devilish grin on Rafael’s face and the sound of your wetness filling his new office.

You hadn’t had a moment to even register what was happening with how fast Rafael moved and before you knew it, your skirt was up above your hips, your panties pooled around your feet on the floor, Rafael’s pants were around his ankles, he had rolled on protection and his hands where on your ass cheeks hoisting you up just enough for his long hard cock to slide into you and you were pushed back into the wall, your legs wrapped around his middle and his long fingers pressed into the soft flesh of your behind, your body sent into over drive as his hips rolled into you hard and fast.

Your arms wrapped around his neck and you pulled him into you, your lips crashing together, your tongues pushing into each other mouths rolling together. Your walls started to tense around Rafael and he could feel it too, his hip thrust getting faster and the bottom of his dress shirt pressed so hard between you both that it was rubbing on your needy pearl, causing a delicious kind of friction.

Your whole body felt hot and your legs started to tingle. You broke the kiss, your forehead resting on his. Your eyes slammed shut and you bit hard into your bottom lip, trying not to be loud as you came hard around him your breath almost taken away with how intense you came. Rafael moved his hips faster, you could feel the sweat forming on his forehead before you moved your head and put your lips to his ear,

“Cum for me Sir, give it all to me”

Rafael rolled his hips hard into you, stilled and said your name and a few swear words under his breath. He took in a deep breath before you loosened your legs around him and he made sure you had your balance first and then kissed your forehead and then your lips sweetly. Rafael turned away walking over to his desk and cleaning himself up, while you fixed yourself up, smoothing your hair flat at the back,

“We need to tell her, love” Rafael smoothed the hair on face with his long fingers, looking at you dead in the eyes.

You rolled your eyes walking over to him throwing your arms around his neck and his moving around your waist,

“After that, whenever you want Rafi”