#dom!rafe

The accusation was so ridiculous, so utterly hypocritical coming from him, that something inside you snapped. The months of his jealousy, his controlling nature, his subtle digs at your independence all boiled over into one white-hot moment of rage.

"What does it matter to you?" you shot back, feeling the venom sink in your tongue when you heard yourself blurt out the next words just to hurt him. "Just because you’re everyone’s little bitch looking for validation doesn’t mean that you get to control me."

Rafe's face hardened, his jaw clenching. "You're my responsibility as of right now," he said, his voice dangerously low as he approached you. His hand clamped around your jaw, forcing your gaze up to his. "Means I call the shots. What you can and can’t do. I’m the one in charge."

That was it. The words hung in the air, bitter enough to make your blood boil. It was completely disbelieving that Rafe, someone who was merely just a friend of your brothers, thought he could dictate your every move. Before you could think, before you could process the fury coursing through your veins, your hand was moving. The sharp crack of skin against skin echoed in the silent room.

Rafe's head snapped to the side, a red imprint of your hand already blooming on his cheek. For a moment, there was only silence as you held your breath, waiting for the explosion, for him to retaliate and throw you out. 

But he didn't.

Instead, you heard something come out of his mouth that resembled a whimper when he slowly turned his head back to face you. Suddenly, the anger that had heated you died out, and your blood went cold when you saw how Rafe’s eyes were. The anger was still there, except beneath it, something else was flickering to life, like there was a hidden undertone that resembled hunger and lust. 

His tongue darted out to wet his lips as he stared at you, his gaze dropping to your mouth, then back to your eyes. "Do it again," he breathed, his voice rough with something that sounded suspiciously like desire.

"What the fuck?" you whispered, taking an involuntary step back before laughing in disbelief. “Does that turn you on?”

"I said," he advanced on you, his movements predatory, "do it again."

When you just stared at him, frozen in place, he closed the distance between you in two long strides. His hand released your jaw, going down to wrap around your throat—not enough to hurt, but enough to hold you in place and make your pulse hammer against his palm.

"You like fighting with me, don't you?" he murmured, his face so close to yours that you could feel his breath against your lips. "Always makin’ me lose my shit and see how far you can push me before I break."

His other hand came up to cup your breast, his thumb brushing over your nipple through the thin fabric of your sundress. It hardened instantly, a betraying response to his touch.

"Rafe," you gasped, but you couldn’t tell whether it was a protest or a plea.

"Shut up," he commanded, and then his mouth was on yours, bruising and demanding. It wasn't a kiss so much as an assault, all teeth and tongue and desperate hunger. He tasted like whiskey and mint, and something uniquely Rafe that made your head spin.

His hand left your breast, sliding down your side to grip your hip, pulling you flush against him. You could feel his erection pressing against your stomach, making the desire in you grow even more, despite how much you loathed him. You hated how he made you feel, how he could turn your anger into what was now a desperate, clawing need.

But you wanted him.

With a frustrated growl, you kissed him back just as fiercely, your hands tangling in his hair, pulling just enough to make him groan into your mouth. His hand tightened around your throat, cutting off your air just enough to make your head swim with dizziness and desire.

"Bedroom," he gritted out against your lips. "Now."

You couldn’t argue when the tension had already snapped. Rafe caught your wrist and hauled you down the hallway with reckless urgency, your bodies colliding into walls and each other as you stumbled toward his bedroom. His hands roamed your waist like he couldn’t decide whether he wanted to hold you closer or ruin you completely. The air felt thick—heavy with saltwater, adrenaline, and everything neither of you had said out loud.

"On the bed," he commanded, already working at the buttons of his shirt. "Take off that dress."

You hesitated for only a second before Rafe decided it was taking you longer than he’d liked, reaching behind you to unzip your sundress. It pooled at your feet, leaving you in just your panties. Rafe's eyes raked over your naked body, his gaze hot enough to burn.

"Fuck," he breathed, shrugging out of his shirt. It was a matter of time until Rafe was on you then, pushing you back onto the bed, his body covering yours. His mouth found your breast, his teeth scraping against your nipple as his hand slid between your thighs, cupping you through your panties. You were already wet, your body betraying you yet again.

"Rafe, please," you whimpered, arching against his hand.

"Please what?" he murmured against your skin, his fingers tracing the edge of your panties. "Please stop?"

You didn’t have it in you to answer, just shaking your head. Though Rafe already knew that.

He hooked his fingers in your panties, tearing them away with a sharp tug. Then his fingers were inside you, curling, stroking, finding that spot that made your vision blur. You cried out, your hips bucking against his hand as he brought you closer and closer to the edge.

"Look at me," he commanded, and you forced your eyes open to meet his. "I want t'see you when you cum."

His thumb found your clit, rubbing in tight circles as his fingers continued their relentless assault inside you. It was all too intense, yet perfect. Your orgasm crashed over you like a wave, your body convulsing as you cried out his name. Before you could recover, he was positioning himself between your thighs, his cock pressing against your entrance, and paused there, teasing you.

"Such a fuckin’ headache," he grunted with each thrust, his face buried in the crook of your neck. "No wonder your brother needs me to put a tight leash ‘round you."

You could only moan in response, your body rising to meet his as you took everything he gave you and begged for more. His hand found your clit again, rubbing in time with his thrusts, pushing you toward another orgasm.

"Cum for me," he commanded, his voice strained. "Cum on my cock like a good girl."

His words, so degrading and so perfect, sent you over the edge again. You clenched around him as you came, your body shaking with the force of it. He followed you over, his own orgasm ripping through him as he buried himself deep inside you. 

Before you could even process what had happened, Rafe breathed out raggedly, “Not a word to your brother.” 

“Wouldn’t think of it, asshat.” 

taglist: @raf3cam3r0n @bonjourjiminie

“Rafe, honey are you okay?” you ask, voice tentative and slightly shaky.

You’re not afraid of your husband, no far from it. But you also know to proceed with caution when he’s in this kind of mood. His father probably said or did something to provoke him, as usual.

Rounding the corner and coming up to his office door, you hesitantly push it open, finding Rafe in his chair. His face is buried in his hands, a whiskey glass shattered on the other side of the room, along with a paperweight he must’ve thrown.

“Rafe?” you gently speak, wanting him to at least look up at you.

He does. His head slowly lifts, his pretty blue eyes, hard and cold, meet yours.

“What?” he snaps, jaw flexing as he breathes heavily.

You step closer to him, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder once you reach him. “Talk to me, what happened? What can I do?” you ask, now rubbing your hand up and down his arm.

He chuckles, but it lacks humor. It’s dark and frustrated. “It’s my dad, but I’m sure you could’ve figured that one out on your own.” He runs a hand down his face, shrugging your hand off his shoulder before he stands from his chair, his height now towering you. “He’s just… You know how he is.” His voice softens, cracking slightly. God you hated his father.

You step closer to him, wrapping your arms around his waist and burying your face in his chest, inhaling the scent of his cologne.

“I know, baby. Hey! I baked a cake, your favorite, strawberry shortcake, maybe that’ll help y-”

Rafe grips your hair, pulling your head back and smashing his lips with yours, cutting off anything you had to say. You melt against him, kissing him back hungrily. You moan against his mouth, letting him swallow the sound down before his free hand is gripping your cheeks, those hard eyes now staring down at you.

“You know what’ll help me?”

Your heart kicks up in your chest, already knowing what he’s going to say, but you play dumb anyways. “What, uh.. What’ll help you, Rafe?”

A chilling grin takes over his face, making a shiver of anticipation run down your spine. “Come with me.” he rasps, letting go of your face and hair, gripping your small hand in his and dragging you up the stairs to your shared bedroom.

Once inside, Rafe tosses you onto the bed, rushing over to his closet and ripping out his box of toys he loves to use on you. You swallow the knot in your throat when he places the box on the bed, popping open the lid and pulling out the black leather flogger and wooden paddle that says ‘Spank Me’ on it, placing them beside you on the bed.

“R-Rafe..” you whimper, your pussy already wet, clit pulsing at the thought of him taking his frustrations out on you.

“You know how this works, baby,” he rasps, picking up the wooden paddle first. He situates himself on the end of the bed, his legs hanging off the edge. “Take your pants off, lay across my lap.” he commands, and you quickly obey.

Stripping yourself of your denim jeans and panties, you kick them across the room, laying yourself across your husband’s lap like he’d asked you to. His free hand gently caresses your ass cheeks, gripping them tightly between his fingers before coming down and smacking the flesh once, making you whine.

“I’ve only spanked you with my hand, baby, don’t tell me you’ve gone soft on me,” He smacks your ass again, harder this time, and you writhe beneath him. “If you can’t take my hand, I guess we don’t have to do this.”

He goes to move you off his lap, but you grip his wrist, panicking as you say, “No! No, I can handle it… Please, daddy? Take your frustrations out on me… I- I can handle it.”

The smug grin on his face makes you let out a slow sigh of relief. He knows you love when he spanks you. When he slaps you. He knows you love the pain just as much as he loves inflicting the pain. You were the masochist to his sadist.

“That’s my good girl.”

You whimper at the praise. Rafe yanks his wrist from your hold, flipping you back so you’re face down, your ass and the backs of your thighs fully exposed to him. He begins running the wooden paddle up and down the length of your thighs.

“You know, I never thought I’d find someone who is just as fucked up as I am,” smack! “But then you came into my life..” smack! “and my God, if you aren’t the best fucking thing that ever happened to me.” smack!

Tears fill your eyes, your bottom lip is trapped harshly between your teeth, fighting to keep your whimpers and whines at bay. You love the pain, but you’re still human, and these things hurt like a bitch.

“Go on, beg me to slap your clit and pretty little face ‘til you’re coming undone from the pain alone.”

The wooden paddle comes back down for the fourth time, hitting the backs of your thighs this time and you cry out from the sting it leaves behind. “P-please! Please, aaaah!” smack!

Rafe chuckles, “Go on, baby, finish begging me.” smack!

Your eyes cross, tears spilling down your cheeks from the burning sting on your ass cheeks and the backs of your thighs. “Holy fuck, please? Please Rafe, slap my clit ‘til I’m coming from the pain!”

Rafe groans, his dick now rock-hard and twitching in his khakis. “That’s my good fucking girl, you beg me so fucking good.”

He stands from where he was sitting on the bed, bringing you up with him and tossing you onto mattress once more. You bite your tongue to keep the whimper wanting to escape at bay, the feeling of the cool sheets against your burning ass and thighs making you squirm.

Rafe tosses the wooden paddle onto the floor, removing his shirt and khakis, leaving him in only tight, black boxer briefs. He climbs into bed with you, situating himself in front of you. He grabs the leather flogger that still lay on the mattress in one hand, his other hand gripping tightly at your thigh to spread you open for him.

“Fuck, baby,” he groans, his blue eyes trained on your soaking wet pussy. “You this wet just from me spanking you? Such a dirty little slut, huh? Pain really does get you off, I fucking love it.”

He begins running the frayed leather ends of the flogger up and down your pussy, the feeling making you twitch on the bed. Lifting his hand slightly, he brings it back down slowly, lightly tapping at your clit with it. A moan slips past your lips at the slight stimulation. “Rafe… Please?”

His bottom lip is pulled between his teeth while he brings his hand up again, bringing it back down harsher this time. The sound of leather slapping against your pussy bounces off the walls, followed by another loud moan from you. “Rafe!” you whine, hips squirming on the mattress as more of your arousal leaks down your legs.

Rafe leans his body forward, blowing cool air onto your red, swollen clit. The sensation has your eyes rolling into the back of your head.

“You’re doing such a good job, being such a good little whore for me,” He gently kisses at your clit, and your hips involuntarily buck upward. That earned you another smack, to the face this time.

Smack!

“FUCK!” you cry out, cheek stinging but your pussy just gets wetter. “Hit me harder, take all your frustration out on me, please, Rafe!”

He runs the leather flogger against your sensitive pussy again, bringing it up, then back down onto your clit again. You squirm, your lower stomach coiling tight as you get pushed closer to a mind-shattering orgasm.

Tears stream down your face, your clit pulsing and pussy clenching around nothing as Rafe continues to slap your clit with the flogger, over and over again. His thumb finds your puffy clit, pressing down on it firmly, rubbing tight circles against it.

“You gonna be a good girl and cum for me, baby?”

A whimper falls from your lips, his thumb continuing to rub slow and torturous circles around your swollen nub. You bite your bottom lip harshly, breaking skin and the taste of blood fills your mouth as you nod your head quickly.

“Mhmm, please, daddy, let me cum.”

Rafe groans, his free hand lightly tapping at your face. Your eyes darken, pussy clenching as that feeling of pure bliss washes over you. Your legs tighten, hips shaking when Rafe harshly smacks your face again, his fingers gripping your cheeks as he forces your eyes on him.

“That’s it, cum like a good little slut. So fucking good, baby.”

You come undone around nothing, just as Rafe had wanted you to. He pulls his thumb away from your clit, flattening his hand and smacking your clit once. Twice. Three times, enjoying the way it made your body quiver with pleasure.

Your body stills and you lay flat on the mattress, chest heaving as you try and come down from your orgasmic high. Rafe pulls you into his arms, snuggling you against his chest as he runs his hands up and down your back.

“That’s my girl, thank you.” he whispers, placing a soft kiss on your forehead.

You smile, burying your face in his chest. “Anytime.”

Rafe is in a similar and yet very different situation. He has a pretty girl, he thinks she might be in a sorority but he’s not sure, dancing and giggling all over him. But he’s only looking at you, his eyes squinted in your direction as he tries to make his inebriated brain remember where he’s seen your face before. Your pretty, bored face. 

You look so clean, even though your eyes are rolling and you’re taking the vodka in your cup like a pro. Rafe would’ve loved to just fuck the girl dancing on him, kick her out in the morning, and move on with his life. Instead, he finds himself walking over to you.

Elijah or Joseph fucks off pretty quickly when he sees Rafe approaching. Maybe he thinks you’re one of Rafe’s many hookups or his sister or maybe he’s just really scared of Rafe. You don’t know. You don’t know if you should be grateful that Gabriel or Jeremiah is gone or if you should be annoyed that Rafe has replaced him.

“Haven’t seen you before.” He murmurs, his hand finding your hip like you’re his girlfriend or something. Pulling away is an impossible task - He just keeps grabbing you again. 

“You have,” You turn your head away when he leans down to kiss your jaw. What the fuck is he trying to do? Is this how he greets people? “We’re in the same philosophy class.”

“Mm… Pretty sure I’d recognize such a pretty face.” His eyes flick from feature to feature, roving over your face with a sense of familiarity. You roll your eyes again, and that only makes it worse. Both his groping and the look in his eyes. One hand grabs your ass. “And such a nice ass.”

Oh, this brings you back, doesn’t it? It’s just like senior year prom! Except instead of your boyfriend, it’s some random frat boy. And instead of telling him to keep his hands to himself, you’re starting to enjoy the touch.

“Y/N.” You tell him, wondering if he knows your name from class or just truly doesn’t recognize a thing about you. 

Oh. You see the recognition in his eyes.

“Y/N.” He echoes, smiling like you’re an old friend. He grabs a handful of your tits.

“Hey,” You flush, trying halfheartedly to squirm away from him. It only makes him more encouraged, big hands grabbing and squishing flesh like he owns it. He’d like to.

“Philosophy, huh?” He kisses your earlobe, catching the golden earring between his teeth for just a second. “Pointless fuckin’ class. Hate the professor.”

Your disagreement is met only with featherlight kisses along your jaw. He keeps it up until your words fade into breathless babbling, and then he pushes his hand into your hair and forces you to look up at him.

“You’re so fuckin’ pretty, Y/N.” He bites your cheek until you flinch away, an evil little chuckle following right after. He gets the feeling, just by looking at you, that no one’s ever done this to you before. It makes a twisted, predatory sense of enjoyment flood his system. “You wanna leave?”

You’re not sure if he means leave with him or leave him, but you nod anyway. 

“If I give you a headstart,” A bite on your jaw. “How far do you think you could get?”

It’s a difficult question to answer. If you’re running, you could make it to your dorm. If you’re walking, waiting to get caught, you’re not sure you could make it around the corner. 

“Not far.” You whimper, sighing as he bites down harshly on your neck, smoothing his tongue over the sore skin right after. 

“Good,” It’s more a purr than a word. “How’s ten seconds sound? Fair?”

You get the feeling you’re not supposed to answer. Instead, you take a deep breath and pull away from him. You don’t look back, wading your way through the crowd and counting under your breath so you know how much time you have left.

At four seconds, you open the door.

At seven, you make it outside. 

At ten, you’ve barely made it down the stairs.

Being out on campus at night has always freaked you out. You’ve watched one too many Dateline episodes to leave yourself so vulnerable like this - Drunk, half-naked, not looking behind you. 

You’re still counting even though your headstart is over. It’s twenty seconds when you duck behind the fraternity building, breathing hard and fast and holding a hand over your heart. You feel like an antelope, a lion hot on your tail, his claws on your legs, his hot breath on your skin. Your nervous system apparently can’t tell this is a voluntary chase. Your palms are sweaty, you’re shaking, your heart is racing. Your eyes shut and you try to calm down.

And then someone grabs your upper arms, holding them bruisingly tight.

“Found you…” Rafe whispers, his mouth back on your neck like no time has passed. Barely any has. 

You gasp and instinctively try to wriggle out of his hold, but he doesn’t give you an inch. He pulls your hair to line your lips up with his, and then he kisses you. Harder, rougher, than you’ve ever been kissed. He kisses with expertise, but that doesn’t surprise you - What does surprise you is the way he finds pleasure in your clumsiness. He groans when your teeth brush his lips. His hips jerk when you tilt your head the wrong way. 

His hand absentmindedly wraps around your throat, squeezing in a pulsing rhythm that makes your head feel fuzzy. Rafe’s cock twitches in his pants when you squeak, your jaw dropping open uselessly. He stops kissing your lips, pulling back to admire the face you’re making as he chokes you.

“Oh, that’s it,” He growls, roughly pushing you up against the wall behind you. He keeps you there by your throat and by a thigh that he slots between yours. His free hand pushes your dress up until it bunches around your hips. “That’s a good fuckin’ girl…”

“Rafe…” You whine, squirming and rubbing yourself against his knee.

The hand on your throat squeezes one more time before it moves up to press against your mouth, his salty palm keeping you from making any more noise.

“Shut up.” He’s undoing his belt with one hand. It makes your pulse spike. 

He catches himself, leaving his belt in the loops. His hand moves to your panties, lacy and white, warm and wet. He presses the pad of his middle finger into the damp cotton, slowly dragging it back and forth.

The helplessness you feel is strangely pleasurable. You can’t do anything but squirm, whimper muffled little cries into his palm, and dig your nails into his biceps. They flex under your hands.

“Shh,” He growls again, pressing his thigh into yours to keep you still. “Hold still.”

There’s nothing you can do but comply, your eyes fluttering shut with reluctant obedience. He takes it as a sign that you’re more than ready for more, pulling your sticky panties out of the way with his thumb. His middle finger collects your wetness, spreading it up towards your clit, parting your lips to make space for his ring finger.

“Think we can start with two?” You can’t answer. Even if you could, he wouldn’t take a no. He coats his fingers in your slickness and prods at your hole. “She gonna let me in?”

Oh, yeah, she is. It’s a stretch for you and a fight for him, but he pushes them both in. His fingers are almost uncomfortably thick, much thicker than yours. 

“Fuck, Y/N,” He groans as if it’s his cock inside you and not his fingers, panting as he scissors you open. He pumps them into you, hooking them to nudge against that spongy spot inside you. Your knees go weak. “There we go…” 

You’re practically squealing as he begins repeating the same movement - You’ve never made a sound like this before in your life. It’s embarrassing and makes your face feel hot, but it’s nothing compared to the heat pooling in your stomach. It’s almost nauseating how tightly your stomach has knotted itself. 

More wet gushes onto his fingers as you clench around them. 

“Mm… Y’like this, huh?” Rafe attaches his lips to your neck, ducking his head under his arm to reach your skin. He doesn’t need, or want, a response from you. He’s more than happy to keep talking to himself. “So wet… S’all this for me?” 

You’ve never been fingered before. You almost let a boyfriend do it once, but you chickened out. The most you’ve ever had inside of you is your own fingers and, only a few times, the handle of a hairbrush. Neither of those can compare to this - It’s like Rafe can see straight through your skin and see your G-spot. 

“Ah, ah… there it is…” He coos, holding you up as you thrash, your back arching and legs trembling with an orgasm. It’s difficult for you to make yourself come, but here he is, doing it like it’s nothing. “That’s my girl…”

You shakily push his hand away when the overstimulation starts to hit you. He laughs and catches your wrist, his other hand releasing your mouth to grab the other one. 

“Rafe-”

“Shut up,” He puts both your wrists into his left hand, his right one coming up to your mouth. His middle and ring fingers push past your lips. “There we go. Clean ‘em for me, Y/N.”

Yeah, that shuts you up. You close your eyes and suck on his fingers, tasting yourself and his salty skin.

“Good girl.” He pulls them out of your mouth, wipes the spit off on your dress, and finally pulls his belt from its loops.

You squirm. “I-I don’t know if-”

“If what?” He asks as if he didn’t interrupt you. He drops his belt onto the ground and pops open the button on his jeans. “If this is a good idea? If you can take it? Too fuckin’ bad.”

That shuts you up again. But it’s not like you really want to complain anyway.

“I’m a virgin.” You whisper, instead. That catches him off guard. His head falls forward and he has to support himself by putting a hand on the wall.

“Shit, you are?”

“Mhm…”

He groans. “Shit… Fuck… Oh, I’m gonna ruin you…”

Maybe he is. He collects himself and turns you around, using his hand as a barrier so he’s not shoving your cheek into the wall. Your dress is already hiked up and you’re plenty wet, so nothing is stopping him from pushing into you once he’s lined up. 

Just the tip, at first. “Fuckin’ virgin pussy… Jesus Christ…” 

You gasp. He pushes in further, breathing down the back of your neck. Your back is at an awkward angle, everything vertical until your ass, which is pushed out for him. He’s big, definitely bigger than the handle of any hairbrush you’ve ever seen. Even your orgasm wasn’t quite enough to prepare you for it all.

“You feel so fuckin’ good,” Rafe growls into your hair, pressing himself further into you. “It’s insane… Squeezin’ me so fuckin’ tight…”

“Rafe…” You pant, pussy pulsing around his cock.

“Oh, shush, baby,” He suddenly thrusts all the way in, shuddering as you cry out. “You’re so fuckin’ dramatic… It feels good, doesn’t it?”

You nod mindlessly, mouth hanging open and legs shaking. You’d be on the ground if he wasn’t holding you up. 

“Thought so…” He smirks, biting down where your neck and shoulder meet. He only bites harder when you try to pull away, using your shoulder to keep himself quiet as he sets his pace, only pulling out halfway before thrusting back in. “Y’feel too good, baby… I can’t even pull out all the way…”

“Rafe…” You whine.

“Shhh…” He pushes his fingers into your mouth again. “Fuck… I’m gonna cum in you, ‘kay, babe?” 

You give a halfhearted attempt at a disagreement, only because it’s the sensible thing to do. No one would say yes to that without a little fight, right? He shoves his fingers further down your throat until you gag. 

“I thought you’d say yes,” He murmurs before biting your shoulder again. He speeds himself up, humping into your pussy instead of giving proper thrusts. “Gonna get this virgin pussy filled with cum, aren’t you?”

You moan around his fingers. His hips stutter.

“Yeah, you are…” He kisses the teeth-shaped indents on your skin. 

He moves his free hand down to your hip, digging his nails into your skin and holding you in place as he fucks you. He already made you come, and he’s feeling a little selfish at the moment, so he uses you solely to get himself off, rambling in your ear about how good your pussy is, how pretty you are, how warm your mouth feels around his fingers. Your eyes are filled with tears, your body trembling on the brink of an orgasm, when he comes.

His jaw goes slack and his fingers press down onto your tongue, holding you tightly against him as he fucks his cum deeper inside you, flooding your cunt with his warmth. 

Just the thought of him filling you with cum makes you shudder, let alone the actual feeling of it. You clench around his cock as you tip over the edge again, sobbing around his fingers. You try to push his slowing hips away when you come down.

“Hold on, I’m gettin’ there,” He huffs, pushing your hands away. He slows to a stop and carefully pulls out, quickly putting your panties back into place to catch any cum that might bubble out of your hole. He pulls your dress down and gives your ass a finishing tap. “There we go.”

You press your palms into the wall to hold yourself up as he takes a step back, pulling his pants up from his ankles and grabbing his belt off the pavement.

“You feelin’ alright?” He places a hand on your shoulder blade once he’s put himself back together. “Need help gettin’ home?”

You look up at him. A complete mess. You’re trembling, your hair is disheveled, your mascara is smeared under your eyes. You nod.

Rafe’s gonna have to make use of you again. He loves philosophy.