#rafe edit

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Tanneyhill was way too quiet for your liking. The only sound echoing through the grand halls was the sharp click of your heels as you paced back and forth in the living room, arms crossed tight against your chest.

You could still see it. Her hand lingering on his arm a little too long, that overly bright laugh, the way she leaned in like she owned him.

And Rafe? He just stood there. Letting it happen.

Sure, it was for some business deal—selling some overpriced property or whatever excuse he had, but did he really need to let her practically throw herself at him? For money?

You huffed, your voice filling the empty space, “I mean, seriously, Rafe? She was all over you! And you just stood there like it was nothing!”

From behind, you heard the familiar creak of the front door shutting, his footsteps heavy as they approached.

“Baby, come on,” Rafe’s voice was calm, too calm, like he wasn’t phased at all. “It wasn’t like that. I wasn’t flirting—”

“You let her flirt with you!” you snapped, spinning to face him, your frustration bubbling over. “What, was I supposed to just stand there and watch? Like I’m invisible?”

Rafe sighed, running a hand through his hair, but his eyes locked onto yours, sharp and serious now. “Sit.”

You blinked, thrown off by his sudden change in tone. “What? No, Rafe, sitting isn’t gonna—”

“Sit.” His voice was lower this time, more of a command than a request.

You sank onto the couch, still fuming, arms crossed tight.

To your surprise, Rafe didn’t sit beside you. Instead, he dropped down to his knees right in front of you, his hands resting gently on your thighs.

“What are you doing?” you whispered, your heart suddenly racing for an entirely different reason.

His blue eyes softened as he looked up at you, his thumb gently rubbing circles against your skin.

“Showing you how much I love you,” he murmured. “That girl didn’t mean shit. You’re the only one that matters. You’ve got me, baby. All of me.”

Your breath hitched as his hands slowly slid up your thighs, fingers grazing against the hem of your dress. His touch was gentle, deliberate, as he leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to your knee before trailing higher.

“You’re so fucking beautiful when you’re mad,” he mused, his lips brushing against your skin, voice dripping with something dark and possessive. “Drives me crazy.”

You bit your lip, torn between staying mad and melting into him. But then his hands gripped your hips, pulling you closer, and his mouth followed, leaving a trail of heat in its wake.

“You don’t need to be jealous, baby,” he whispered, his breath hot against your inner thigh. “I only want you.”

His fingers hooked under the hem of your dress, dragging it up agonizingly slow, eyes never leaving yours as he spread your legs wider. He kissed up your thighs, each press of his lips sending shivers up your spine. His hands were firm, keeping you right where he wanted you.

His mouth hovered just above where you needed him most, teasing you, making you squirm beneath his hold. “You’re already so wet for me,” he rasped, his breath hot against your sensitive skin.

Then, finally, his lips met you, a slow, deliberate flick of his tongue that sent a shockwave through your entire body. You gasped, your fingers threading through his hair, tugging as he worked you over with precision, like he had all the time in the world to ruin you.

Rafe groaned against you, the vibrations making your hips jerk against his face, but he held you firm, not letting you escape the pleasure he was determined to give. His tongue was relentless, switching between slow, teasing strokes and deep, intense movements that had you gasping his name.

Your thighs trembled around his head as he sucked, licked, and devoured you like he was starved. He didn’t stop, not when your body arched off the couch, not when your legs threatened to close around him—he only growled, gripping your thighs tighter, keeping you wide open for him.

The tension in your belly coiled tighter, heat blooming through your veins as the pleasure built higher and higher until—

You shattered, his name falling from your lips like a prayer, body shaking as waves of pleasure crashed over you. Rafe didn’t let up, drawing it out, his tongue flicking lazily as he licked you through your high.

When you finally sagged back against the couch, breathless and spent, he pulled back just enough to look up at you, his lips slick with your release, his eyes dark and full of hunger.

He smirked, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand before leaning up, pressing a slow, filthy kiss against your lips.