THE OTHER SIDE OF PARADISE - rafe cameron (+18) - three
request: "a rafe enemies to lovers 🫣 the reader is jjs sister the whole drama before but then she gets left behind on the ship and rafe ends up comforting her and then yea that’s all I got you can do whatever else the rest 😛"
WARNINGS: maybank!reader; smut!; rafe is a red flag; guns; mentions of human trafficking; 80% of it is smut you've been warned;
word count: 7.9k...
part i; part ii; part iv
Growing up, you had to develop a thick skin.
With two deadbeat parents, it wasn't a choice—it was a necessity. Unlike JJ, you never blamed your mother for leaving. She was a victim too, and despite your nightly wishes and prayers that she had taken you with her, you found solace in knowing that at least one of you had escaped the torment of the Maybank household.
You learned early on to rely only on yourself.
While you had your younger brother, you never placed that burden on his shoulders. As the older sister, it was your responsibility to take the blame for everything and to shield him from Luke's drunken or drug-fueled rages.
You never resented JJ for it, you couldn’t—neither of you asked to be born into that situation.
You tried to take each day slowly, avoiding the house and staying at John B's as much as possible.
It was easier said than done; it was hard not to feel like a burden to your friends, especially since you were the one who had to be the adult in the group.
Kie, Pope, John B…weren’t supposed to take care of you. And yet, they did. They took you in, shared their homes, and gave you the semblance of family you craved but never had. It was a weird balance, living with a foot in both worlds: the chaotic storm of the Maybank household and the calm haven of your friends' places.
At John B's, despite its share of brokenness, it provided a refuge where you could breathe without the constant fear of violence.
You often found yourself on the porch, watching the sunset over the marsh, your mind wandering to dreams of freedom. Those moments were precious, tiny pockets of peace in your life. But no matter how much you tried to distance yourself from the fucking chaos, it was always there, lurking in the background.
Luke Maybank’s shadow was long and dark, and it followed you everywhere. Each time your phone buzzed with a message from JJ, your heart would race, fearing the worst.
It was a burden you bore proudly, protecting your brother from a world that seemed determined to break you both.
You eased into being the provider, to think, to act, to protect. It became second nature, an ingrained part of your identity forged from necessity.
While others your age worried about stupid matters, you were strategizing the best ways to keep your brother safe, figuring out how to stretch what little money you had, and ensuring that there was always something for JJ to eat, even if it meant you went without.
You learned how to calm Luke down when he was on the brink of a violent outburst, and how to read the signs of an impending beating in his eyes.
You figured out which neighbors might turn a blind eye to your requests for help, and which ones might call social services if they saw too much. There were moments, rare and fleeting when you allowed yourself to dream.
You imagined a future where you and JJ were free from the chains of your upbringing. But dreams were a luxury you could rarely afford.
So, when Rafe told you—no, demanded—that you stayed in the deadbeat motel room while he met up with his contacts, you lost it.
He'd gotten the text earlier in the morning and decided he was smart enough to lure you out of this. Except he wasn't.
“Excuse me?”
“You’re not going.”
You didn’t take it lightly to people making choices for you. Your eyebrows shot up, mouth opening in indignant shock, "You think you can just order me around like I'm some puppet? I'm not staying here while you go off and do God knows what.”
Rafe's eyes narrowed. He wasn’t used to people standing up to him, you knew that. His expression hardened, the arrogance, and entitlement you’d grown to familiarize yourself with flaring up again.
"It's for your own good," his tone was condescending, like you were a child, “You don't understand the kind of people I'm dealing with. It's dangerous."
"Dangerous?" you laughed, a harsh, bitter sound. "You think I don’t know what danger is? Look around, Cameron.”
Rafe opened his mouth to retort, but you cut him off, stepping closer and jabbing a finger into his chest. You’d done a lot of that recently.
"It’s my life on the line too. And I’m not going to sit here and wait for you to come back like some obedient little bitch.”
His face practically matched the color of the deep red curtains in your room, “You’re making this a lot harder than it needs to be, Maybank.”
"No, you are," you fired back. "I’m going with you.”
“No.”
“I wasn’t asking.”
He took a step away from you, fingers pointed at his temples, “What part of fucking dangerous do you not get?”
“If it’s dangerous for me, it’s dangerous for you.”
Rafe’s jaw clenched, the muscles in his neck tensing visibly. His gaze bore into yours, and you’d be damned if you were the first one to look away.
“This isn’t a game,” he said, clearly growing frustrated with your stubbornness, “You have no idea what these people are capable of.”
“Maybe not,” you conceded, “But I’m not staying behind and you’re not going alone.”
He let out a frustrated sigh, running a hand along his grown-out hair.
“They chew up people like you.”
“I’ve been chewed up by worse.”
He knew that.
And then, he saw the determination in you, that unyielding resolve that drove him up the fucking walls and he understood that he wasn’t going to win the fight. Unless he played dirty.
“You’re too stubborn, y’know that, right?”
You chose to ignore him, grabbing the simple sweater he’d gotten for you the day before at a local market, “So, when do we leave?”
He almost sprinted to the door, “Now.”
You moved to follow him as he stepped outside into the hallway, but before you could follow, he grabbed your arm.
"Wait."
You almost pulled away, frustration boiling over.
"What now?"
His grip tightened, "This might hurt.”
"What?" You tried to twist free, glaring at him.
"Change of plans."
Before you could react, he pushed you back inside the room, slamming the door shut. He didn’t push you hard enough to fall, but the treason came so suddenly that you nearly lost your balance as you heard the lock click, the sound echoing in the small space.
"Rafe! You piece of shit!” You pounded on the door, “Let me out! You can't do this!"
His voice was muffled but firm from the other side. "Stay here.”
"You motherfucker!" You screamed, kicking the door. But there's no clipped answer from the other side. The only sound was the echo of your own frantic breathing.
He was gone, the stupid bastard.
You collapsed against the door, your breath coming in ragged gasps. Rafe just left you there, locked like some helpless child. Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes, but you refused to let them fall.
You were a Maybank, damn it, and Maybanks didn’t back down from a fight, even when their choices were taken from them.
In any other situation, you would’ve jumped out the window. You’d done it enough times back home, but this was different.
Your room’s floor was too high and even though you could get away with just a few scrapes or a broken finger, you couldn’t risk putting yourself in such a vulnerable state. You needed your body intact in case danger was nearby. If you had to run for your life, you needed both legs functioning.
You glanced around the room, eyes landing on the bed, the frame sturdy.
That’s it!
You thought to yourself as you rushed over and began to strip the sheets from the mattress, working quickly as you tied them together, creating a makeshift rope.
And they said pogues weren’t fucking smart.
It wasn’t your best work, but it was the best you could have under the circumstances.
Once you had fashioned the rope, you secured one end to the bed frame, testing it to ensure it could hold your weight. Satisfied that it was strong enough, you tossed the other end out the window, watching as it unfurled down the side of the building.
You gripped the makeshift rope tightly and began to lower yourself out the window. It wasn’t your first rodeo; you knew better than to rush. Your heart pounded in your chest as you slowly inched your way down the side of the building.
Finally, your feet touched solid ground, and you released a breath you didn't realize you were holding. You tried to remember bits and pieces of information Rafe had laid out the night before, about the meeting, something about a dingy marine bar, a bartender named Miguel.
You rushed back inside the motel, ignoring the puzzled look from the front desk guy as you practically demanded information about the bar. He hesitated clearly taken aback by your urgency, the way you blurted out the words, but you didn’t have time for explanations or politeness.
"Just tell me where it is," you pleaded, “It’s important.”
He scribbled down an address on a piece of paper and thrusted it into your hand.
"It's not far from here," his tone was wary, "But be careful. That place is no good for a lady on her own.”
So, nothing new, you wanted to tell him.
Any place infested with men or drunk men was a trap of its own. But instead, you only offered him a curt nod of thanks before running out the door again. You needed to find Rafe, you couldn’t afford to waste any time.
You nearly raced through the streets, the address clutched tightly in your hand. And then, before you could process what the hell was going on, a hand enveloped your upper arm, fingers digging dip in your flesh before you could make a turn, dragging you to the dark alley you’d avoided.
The situation felt all too familiar. Your heart leaped into your throat, adrenaline pumping in and out of your veins. Instinctively, you struggled against the unknown grip, kicking and clawing in a desperate attempt to break free. Were you getting mugged?
"Let go of me!" you shouted, your voice echoing off the narrow walls of the alley, “I got nothing on me, let me go you stupid fuck!”
With a surge of adrenaline, you mustered all your strength and delivered a sharp elbow to your captor's stomach, causing them to grunt in pain and loosen their hold for a moment.
You wrenched yourself free, stumbling backward as you scrambled to put some distance between you and your attacker. You were about to land the best punch of your life as you spun around to face them, but as you finally got a good look at him, fear turned into anger.
“What the fuck is wrong with you!”
“Me?” Rafe barked, all up in your personal space, “What the fuck is wrong with you? You jumped out a fucking window?!”
He knew you wouldn’t back down so easily. So he waited around the corner, hoping you were smart enough to keep still even though he knew you would never.
You blinked, the shock of seeing him in front of you momentarily overriding your anger. "You... You locked me in there!"
"Yeah, because you wouldn't listen!" he shot back, his frustration evident in his tone, “Fuck—Jesus fucking Christ.” He was shaking his head wildly, his hands balled into fists as he cursed away like a mantra.
"I told you; I'm not staying behind while you go off risking your life!" You nearly spit but managed to tone down just enough.
"And I told you, it's too dangerous for you!" Rafe's voice rose with each word, his hands balling into fists at his sides. His pacing intensified, “What the hell were you thinking? What were you gonna do? Walk in and what, huh? You don't even have a gun on you!"
“So? Give me yours!”
Rafe’s eyes widened in disbelief. “Give you, my gun?! Did you hit your fucking head against the concrete?
“I’ll hit your head against the concrete if I have to.”
His left eye twitched in irritation, the look he gave you filled with enough ire to leave a hint of satisfaction sparking in your chest, “Maybank, I have half a mind to spank you right now, don’t fucking push it.”
You ignored him, “You’d rather I go in there unarmed?” you shot back, your voice dripping with sarcasm, “I can do it.”
“Clearly. Look at you,” Rafe’s voice was sharp,“You think I wanted to leave you behind? You think I liked putting you in that room?”
“You didn't give me a choice! You think I was just gonna sit around waiting for you?”
Rafe sighed, palms pressing into his eyes “I’m trying to protect you, God fucking damn it. I’m trying to keep you safe.”
“Save it,” You hissed out, pressing a hand to your chest as though to keep everything in. “How am I supposed to trust you when you pull this—this shit!”
Rafe reached into the waistband of his trousers, his movements slow and deliberate. Your breath caught in your throat as he pulled out his gun, lifting his shirt in the process. He took your hand and dropped it into your palm.
“Show me.”
“Uh?”
He nodded towards the gun in your hand. “Show me you know how to handle it.”
The sudden changes in his attitude always left you speechless. You hesitated, staring at the weapon in your hand. You had never held a gun before, let alone fired one. But the authority in Rafe’s eyes spurred you to action. With trembling fingers, you checked the safety and made sure the gun was loaded, trying to mimic what you had seen in movies.
“Alright,” Rafe said, his voice low. “Now, point it at me.”
“What?!”
“I said point it at me,” he repeated, “C’mon.”
You swallowed hard, your grip tightening on the gun. This was crazy. With shaky hands, you raised the gun, aiming it at his chest. Your heart pounded in your ears, the weight of the weapon feeling heavier with each passing second.
“Good,” Rafe nodded in approval. “Now, pull the trigger.”
“What the hell?! Rafe?!”
“Trust me, Maybank, just once.”
Your breath caught in your throat.
Pull the trigger? He wasn’t fucking serious, was he? You couldn’t actually shoot him, could you?
But Rafe’s expression remained unwavering. He was being dead serious.
Maybe months ago you would’ve done it without a second guess, but now?
“I’m not pulling the trigger.”
“Just do it. You’re not going to hurt me, okay?”
With a deep breath, you squeezed the trigger, half expecting the gun to recoil in your hand. But nothing happened.
Oh. You had forgotten to chamber a round. He knew that already.
Rafe’s mouth twitched in a half-smile, as if the entire situation was normal, “You forgot to chamber a round.”
You watched him carefully, his bottom lip stuck out and, embarrassingly, you found you wanted to kiss him.
You lowered the gun, your hands shaking with adrenaline. You had just fired a weapon for the first time in your life. He reached out and gently took the gun from your hand, expertly chambering a round before handing it back to you.
“Try again.”
This time, when you aimed the gun at the wall and pulled the trigger, you felt the recoil jolt along your body as the bullet fired. The sound echoed off the walls of the alley, causing your heart to race even faster.
“Atta girl.”
“I’m still pissed, Cameron.”
“I know,” Rafe conceded as he reached up to brush your hair from your eye, fingers grazing the side of your neck. “I panicked, okay?”
You studied him for a moment, taking in the tired lines around his eyes, the way his shoulders sagged with exhaustion. He’d done so much for you over the past weeks, it shook you to the core. The countless times he had gone above and beyond, selflessly putting your needs before his own. So maybe, just maybe…you could let it go.
“Okay.”
"Let's go.”
“Wait, right now?”
“Yeah,” Rafe said, his tone brisk as he holstered the gun. "We’re late.”
⋆ ✧・゚: *✧・゚⋆ ✧・゚: *✧・゚⋆ ✧・゚: *✧・゚⋆ ✧・゚: *✧・゚⋆ ✧・゚: *✧・゚⋆ ✧・゚: *✧・゚
Hours later, you collapsed onto the bed, wondering what the hell you’d gotten yourself into, again. The events of the meeting replaying in your mind like a broken record. You’d never met such a group of people before. And you didn’t want to, ever again.
"Human traffickers," you muttered, the words feeling foreign on your tongue. "I can't believe we just met with human traffickers."
Rafe nodded solemnly, "Yeah.”
"I don't trust them. What if... What if they decide to snatch us up and... Oh my god, what if this is all just a ploy..."
“We’re in this together, okay? I won’t let anything happen to you.”
You wanted to believe him.
Your brow furrowed, your mind racing with questions. “How do you even know these people?”
He hesitated, “Barry. It’s... a long story. But right now, what’s important is that we got a way out, yeah?”
You nodded slowly, realizing that asking him for more information wouldn’t get you anywhere.
There were more important things to worry about.
You didn’t know what was worse, running from Ward Cameron, finding yourself at the mercy of human traffickers, or potentially developing feelings for someone who’d ruined so many lives.
God, if your brother saw you now…you’d be the greatest disappointment of his life. The mere idea consumed you entirely. The things you’d done.
The way you’d let Rafe into your bloodstream.
You hated yourself for it. Everything felt like it was spiraling out of your grasp, and you hated it.
What would you even tell him? You didn’t even know if had made it, but something told you that he did. He always did. And that meant that sooner or later you’d see him, and you’d have to watch him gradually despise you.
And then there was Rafe.
The very thought of him made you want to stop breathing altogether. How could you even begin to reconcile the feelings you harbored for someone who had brought so much pain and destruction into your life? It felt like a betrayal to even consider it.
“You good, Maybank?”
You dragged your gaze away from the swirling fan on the ceiling to meet Rafe's concerned stare. He was studying you intently. You shifted on the bed, turning to face him fully.
"I don’t know,” you muttered, forcing a weak smile that didn't quite reach your eyes, “You?”
He reached out to gently tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear. His touch always surprised you, how surprisingly light it felt.
“I don’t know.”
He had every reason to abandon you, to wash his hands clean of the entire situation, but he hadn’t.
You nodded, a lump forming in your throat.
It was hard to believe that someone like him could be capable of such tenderness, such vulnerability. But there he was, lying beside you, his attention fixed on you with an intensity that made your heart race.
“They’re about you.”
"Me?" you repeated confused, your voice barely a whisper, as if speaking too loudly would shatter the fragile moment between you.
Rafe nodded, scanning your face for any sign of understanding. "Yeah. You."
Your brows pulled together, “What is?”
He visibly gulped, pressing his lips together, blinking several times before releasing a held breath “The nightmares.”
You almost stopped breathing, "What about them?"
He shifted uncomfortably, “They used to be just about my mom. Then dad. Now, it’s—uh, it’s just you. Ever since that night, it’s just you. Dying, because of—yeah.”
Oh.
You hadn’t realized the extent of the impact that night had on him, on both of you
It was a lot to process, and you handy had the time to figure everything out yet.
His fingers brushed over the scar on your arm, and memories flooded your mind. The gunshots, the crippling fear you felt when they got to you, how Rafe reacted, how he touched you.
“You should’ve told me before.”
“Yeah, maybe.”
You flinched instinctively at his touch, the sensation sending a jolt of electricity through your body. For a moment, you let yourself lean into his touch, allowing the warmth of his hand to chase away the ghosts that haunted you.
"Does it still hurt?" He asked, leaning in so his nose brushed against yours; it was warm against your skin.
You shook your head, a smile tugging at the corners of your mouth. "Not anymore."
His fingers continued their path up, eventually reaching your cheek as he cupped it tenderly, carefully, as if he’d break you if he rushed it.
You closed your eyes, savoring the closeness between you. And then, almost hesitantly, you felt him lean in, his mouth brushing against yours in a delicate caress. You hardly had to move to kiss him, only tilting your chin up.
It was tender, different from the ones you had before, just so quiet that it made you want to burst into tears.
You kissed him back, tentatively at first, then with a growing hunger that mirrored the longing you had been feeling deep within your soul. His hands found their way to your waist, pulling you closer as if afraid to let you slip away. In that moment, nothing else mattered. Not the dangers lurking in the shadows, not the weight of your past sins, not the uncertain future that lay ahead.
All that existed was the intoxicating feeling between you and Rafe. But as the kiss deepened, a voice of reason scolded you in the back of your mind, reminding you of the consequences of your actions. You pulled away, breathless and dizzy, your heart pounding in your chest.
“We shouldn’t…”
Rafe only stared, before he nodded, understanding dawning in him. He pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead.
“I know,” he sighed, “Just get some rest.”
You nodded in agreement, grateful for the distraction. With a heavy grunt, you lifted yourself off the bed, making your way to the bathroom to change into some booty shorts and a simple tee.
When you emerged from the bathroom, Rafe was already settled on the bed, only in his boxers, his attention fixed on some point in the distance. You hesitated for a moment before joining him, the distance and closeness between you feeling suffocating.
You wanted to say something, anything to break the tension, but the words stuck in your throat like a lump of lead.
Instead, you settled for a nod, and a quiet “Goodnight.”
You slipped under the covers, the warmth of the blankets cocooning you in a false sense of security.
“Night, pretty Maybank.”
You shut your eyelids, willing your racing mind to quiet down. But no matter how hard you tried, sleep eluded you, slipping through your fingers like grains of sand. Every creak of the floorboards, every distant sound of passing cars sent a shiver down your spine, your senses heightened to the point of paranoia. You shifted restlessly in bed, the new sheets tangling around your legs like shackles, trapping you in a prison of your own making.
You heard Rafe's voice beside you, breaking the silence of the room, “Can’t sleep if you keep moving.”
“Sorry.”
Rafe reached out, his hand finding yours in the darkness, “What is it?”
“I can’t sleep.”
His hold tightened around yours, "I know, Maybank," he spoke in a ushed tone, "But you're safe here. Try to relax, okay?"
You squeezed your eyes shut, already feeling the upcoming headache, “I don’t know how to.”
It was quiet again for a minute and you feared you’d bored the man to sleep with your insecurities, but then he spoke again.
“Turn around.”
You opened your eyes, even though you could barely see him. Was he telling you to spoon him?
“What?”
Rafe's thumb gently brushed against the back of your hand in a soothing rhythm, “Turn round f’me, kay?”
With a soft sigh, you did as he asked, turning onto your side to face away from him.
He moved closer, his body pulling against yours as he wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you snugly against his chest. His warmth enveloped you like some kind of shield as he pressed a light kiss to the back of your neck, his lips lingering against your skin.
“There,” he whispered, his breath tickling your ear. “Better?”
Oh fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck.
These were dangerous waters.
If you couldn’t sleep before, you sure as hell weren’t about to do it now. All you could think about was that night, how he felt, how he touched you, how he fit right.
An almost overwhelming feeling of arousal took over you, and with whatever courage you had left from the day, you moved again, pressing yourself impossibly closer to him. His warmth seeped into your skin, melting away the tension that had coiled tight in your muscles during the day, you could feel every ridge and turn of his body.
Your touch drew a low, guttural groan from Rafe, his breath hot against your skin as he pressed closer, his arousal unmistakable against your back. His teeth grazed your shoulder, followed by the flick of his tongue, and you released a breathy sigh as he lowered his head to bite the area.
His arm tightened around you as you traced the contours of his fingers, mapping out the familiar territory with ease and want. His heartbeat echoed against your back, a steady rhythm that matched the frantic beat of your own heart.
His lips brushed against your neck, sending a jolt of electricity straight to your core, “Relax,” he murmured, his hoarse, “’M right here.”
With a boldness that surprised even yourself, you shifted your hips, grinding back against him, seeking the friction that would ease the ache between your legs and your head.
Rafe's reaction was immediate, his hands roaming over your body with a fervor that left you dizzy. His fingers found their way to the hem of your shorts, teasing the sensitive skin with feather-light touches. You twisted your fingers into his long hair, tugging lightly, delighting in the gasp it pulled from him.
“Tell me to stop, please,” His mouth brushed against your ear again, words coming out a slurred mess.
You ran you finger over his leg, where his boxers had risen, the warm skin driving you insane. If you lifted your fingers just a little higher, you’d be able to feel all of him.
You had to bite back a squeal when his thumb brushed over your covered nipple, “I can’t.”
You felt the tension in his muscles as he paused for a moment, his grip on you tightening. An unrestrained, almost desperate plea escaping his mouth, "Are you sure?"
You swallowed hard. This was so fucking wrong. But underneath it all, you knew what you wanted.
You turned your head slightly, your lips grazing his jawline as you muttered a "Yes."
You gasped when Rafe raised his thigh, placing it between your own, as he used his hands on your hips to guide you back and forth, grinding you down against his skin. You couldn’t remember a time you’d ever felt so out of control, so desperate for someone’s touch. The thin barrier of your shorts and panties felt like an unbearable hindrance, a small but significant obstruction to the shattering desire you needed to reach.
One of his hands slipped under the waistband of your panties, the other splaying across your stomach, holding you firmly in place. His fingers found you slick and ready, a whimper vibrating across his chest at the discovery.
“Fuck,” he breathed out, his fingers starting a slow, torturous rhythm against your clit.
You bucked against his hand, seeking more, needing more. Your head fell back against his shoulder, and you turned slightly to capture his lips in a heated kiss.
You felt his tongue press against yours and you nearly came on the spot. He slowly circled your clit, sending your hips jerking into him, “I can’t stop touching you.”
You struggled to form words as breathy moans escaped your mouth, “Please don’t,” you rasped, your thoughts turning to mush as he dipped the tips of his fingers inside you, gathering your wetness. When you finally found your voice, it was a mere screech, “Rafe...”
“I’ve got you,” he murmured back, finally pushing two fingers inside you, at an agonizing pace, “I’ve got you.”
Your jaw went slack as he curled his thick fingers, a gasp escaping when he found that spot that made you see stars. Your nails involuntarily dug into his skin. The heel of his hand pressed against your clit, pulling another moan from you. With his other hand still on your hip, he pushed you back, guiding you to grind against his fingers.
The rhythm he set was maddening.
His breath was hot against your neck, his voice a growl as he removed his fingers, making you whine in protest.
He glided one between your folds, the wetness easing up the process, “You’re so fucking perfect,” he muttered, his words sending a thrill down your spine. “Can’t get enough of you.”
“Ra—You’re gonna make me come,” you gasped as his arm left your waist, sliding underneath your ribcage and resting on your chest, kneading your breast through the fabric of your shirt, “Fuck.”
“Yeah, baby, that’s the point,” he purred into your ear, two fingers sliding inside you again, so suddenly you threw your head back again, thighs clenching together tightly as he pumped his fingers in and out.
At this point, you were lightheaded, fucking yourself back onto him, grinding down as you chased your orgasm.
“Don’t stop,” you begged, your voice trembling with desperation. “Please, Rafe...”
His fingers quickened their pace, each thrust sending oceans of pleasure down your body. “Not stopping,” he promised,“Want to feel you dripping around my fingers.”
His words sent you spiraling, the buzz inside you building to an unbearable peak. Your breath came in ragged gasps, your body trembling with the intensity of your approaching climax. Rafe's touch was relentless, his fingers curling inside you, hitting that perfect spot over and over.
“Rafe—” you cried out, your voice breaking as your orgasm crashed over you, wave after wave of intense pleasure radiating from your pussy.
Your body convulsed, and you clung to him, nails digging into his arm as you rode out the ecstasy.
Rafe held you without a break, his fingers never slowing, drawing out every last tremor of your release. When you finally came down, breathless and spent, he withdrew his fingers, not giving you a break to breathe as he shuffled behind you, pulling his boxers down, just enough to release his aching cock, doing the same to you as he slid his length between your folds.
The sensation was…everything, his heaviness pressing against your sensitive, slick entrance, the heat of him making you shiver. You bit your lip, suppressing a scream as Rafe's hand gripped your hip, holding you steady.
“Shit shit”, you breathed out, barely able to form coherent thoughts. The anticipation coiled inside you again, your body already aching for him, “’M sensitive.”
“Shhhh,” he purred, his voice husky against your ear. “Just relax, pretty.”
He rocked his hips slowly, the head of his fat cock teasing your entrance, not pushing in but sliding between your folds, spreading your wetness over his length.
Holy fuck, you’d gone to heaven.
Rafe's breath hitched, his grip on your hip tightening as he tried to control himself.
“You feel so good,” he groaned, “So perfect.”
“Oh my god,” you sighed, biting your lip when his tip bumped against your clit, “I need you to—Shit, just fuck me.”
With a slow, deliberate motion, he angled his hips and began to push inside you, inch by tantalizing inch. The stretch was exquisite, slowly filling you in a way that left you gasping, your body accommodating him with a shuddering breath.
“Jesus,” Rafe hissed, his head dropping to rest against your shoulder as his cock twitched inside you. “So tight.”
Your fingers dug into the sheets, the thrill and the sensation of being filled to the hilt almost too much. You could feel every part of him, the way he throbbed inside you, the way his body fit perfectly against yours. You felt his breathing against your skin, coming out in uneven and ragged breaths.
He started a slow, steady rhythm, each thrust measured and deep, pulling out almost completely before pushing back in.
His other hand found your breasts, kneading the sensitive flesh through your shirt, sending jolts of pleasure straight to your core.
You couldn’t hold back the mewls that escaped your lips, each movement driving you higher, the tension building again. Rafe’s breath was ragged against your ear, his lips brushing your skin in sloppy, open-mouthed kisses.
He gently bit your earlobe, withdrawing his hips until only the tip of him remained inside you, before slowly pushing back in with deliberate, languid movements. You reached back, tangling your fingers in his hair once again.
“Rafe... harder, please,” you begged, shame thrown out the window, “I need it harder.”
He moaned, the sound vibrating through his chest as he complied, his hips snapping against you with more force, the sound of skin against skin filling the room. His hand slid down from your chest to your clit, circling the sensitive nub in time with his thrusts.
You felt the familiar coil of pleasure tightening, your body tensing as you teetered on the brink.
“Can’t belie—fuck. Can’t believe I get to have you again.”
You curved your back again, meeting his thrusts with equal fervor, your body craving the release that was so so close.
“I c-can’t hold on much longer,” you gasped, your voice barely more than a breathless whimper.
“Then let go,” Rafe growled, his fingers pressing harder against your clit. “Come for me, baby. I want to feel you.”
You groaned, “I want to see you when I do.”
Before he could answer, you pulled away from him, making him groan, but you shut him up as you turned to face him, dragging your shorts and panties out of the way, not looking where you threw them as you quickly lifted your body and settled over his, hands pressed to his naked chest as you rubbed yourself against him.
Rafe's hands gripped your hips firmly as you positioned yourself above him, “You tryn’ to kill me, pretty Maybank?”
You smirked, leaning down to press a quick peck against his lips, “Yeah.”
Without any warning, you lowered yourself onto him, both gasping at the sensation of being joined once again. He filled you completely, stretching you in the most delicious way, his tip touching your cervix.
Your movements were slow at first, savoring all of him, every sensation that rippled from end to end of your body. But soon, the slow burn grew into a raging inferno, and you found yourself moving faster, chasing that peak of pleasure one more time.
“Get this fucking thing off,” He growled, pulling at your shirt. You would’ve found it funny if you weren’t so desperate to feel him.
You sat up, quickly tugging the shirt over your head and tossing it aside. Rafe's eyes darkened with lust as he took in your bare chest, his hands immediately finding your tits, thumbs brushing over your nipples in a way that made you gasp and arch into his touch.
You started to move again, lifting yourself up before sinking back down onto him, each movement sending waves of desire through both of you.
A filthy kiss followed, all spit and tongues tangling messily as if trying to devour each other whole.
The taste of him filled your mouth, cigarettes and toothpaste, his moans mingling with yours.
The kiss was a brutal assault, his teeth nipping at your lips, drawing blood, which only seemed to fuel the frenzied rhythm of your body. Rafe's grip on your hips tightened, guiding your movements, and encouraging you to take him deeper, pounding into you, abs flexing.
You leaned forward, your hands bracing against his sturdy chest, the new angle allowing him to hit even deeper inside you. The room was filled with the sound of your heavy breathing, your cries, and the rhythmic, filthy, slap of skin against skin.
“Fuck, this pussy can’t be real,” Rafe groaned, his eyes locked onto yours, the intensity of his gaze making your heart race. “Ride me harder, baby. Wanna watch you.”
You increased your pace, the friction and fullness driving you closer to the edge with each thrust. His hands moved from your hips to your waist, holding you steady as you moved, his touch grounding you even as you felt like you were about to come apart at the seams. His thumb found your clit again, rubbing it in tight, precise circles that had you crying out his name.
“Oh god, Rafe, I’m s-so close,” you panted, your body trembling with the effort to hold back your release, wanting to savor every second of this moment.
“Come for me, pretty. Wanna to feel you drippin’ all over my cock.”
That was all it took.
With a loud moan, you came, your body convulsing around him, your nails digging into his chest as the phases of your pleasure crashed over you. Rafe watched you, his expression one of pure awe, jaw slack open as his hands never left your body.
As your climax subsided, your breathing ragged and your limbs trembling, he gently kissed your temple, his lips tender. He murmured soothing words and you swore you were on cloud nine.
You felt his heartbeat, steady and strong against your own. His fingers traced lazy circles on your back, calming you, bringing you back to earth.
But as the pleasure subsided, you became acutely aware of Rafe's cock still hard and throbbing inside you. His breath was ragged, his eyes void of any color, and you knew he was on the brink. You lifted yourself slightly, feeling him slip almost out of you before you sank back down, taking him deep again, despite the way your thighs burned, the way your hole ached.
"Rafe," you called, “Need to feel you come inside me."
His grip on you tightened, his eyes briefly closing as a guttural moan escaped his lips. He released you for a moment, only to bring his hand down sharply, delivering a stinging smack to your ass,
"Watch your fucking mouth.”
The sudden impact made you gasp, the pain amplifying your desire.
Rafe's eyes snapped open,"You like that, don't you?" he growled, "Look at you."
You could only nod, breathless and aching for more. His hands returned to your hips, guiding your movements with a renewed urgency. The sting from the slap lingered, a delicious reminder of his dominance, the only place you'd let him take the lead.
You started to move again, your pace slow and deliberate, your movements designed to drive him wild. Each time you sank onto him, you could feel him throbbing, his control slipping with every passing second. His fingers digging into the flesh of your ass as he tried to hold on.
"Please, baby," you whined, "I need to feel your cum."
The pet name did it.
With a growl, he shifted, flipping you onto your back and pinning you beneath him.
The sudden change made you gasp, your legs instinctively wrapping around his ass as he drove into you in a mean mating press. His pace was relentless, like he’d die if he stopped.
The sounds of your “oh’s” mixed with his grunts, only amplified the passion. You could feel the tension coiling inside him, the way his body strained against yours, every muscle taut with anticipation.
"Gonna fill you up,” he grounded out, his voice strained, "So fucking close."
You tightened your legs around him, pulling him deeper, your nails raking down his back, leaving red trails in their wake. "Come for me, baby," you urged, your desire reigniting at the thought of him finding his release, “Need you so bad.”
His eyes snapped open, locking onto yours with a feral intensity. "You want my cum?" he growled, thrusting harder, making you cry out in pleasure. "Beg for it."
"Please, Rafe," you gasped, feeling the pressure building inside you, "Fill me up. I need it. I need you."
With a final, powerful thrust, Rafe's body stiffened, his head dropping to rest against your shoulder as he let out a hoarse cry. You felt the hot rush of his release, the pulsing of his cock as he emptied himself inside you. His entire body trembled, his breath coming in short, ragged gasps as he rode out his orgasm. You could feel him pulsing, the warmth flooding you as he let out a primal growl, his grip on you almost bruising.
And right there, another orgasm ripped through you, your body tightening around him as you cried out his name.
He collapsed onto you, both of you panting and trembling. His weight was comforting, his breath hot against your neck as he pressed soft kisses to your skin, his earlier roughness giving way to a tender aftermath.
You held him close, your hands running soothingly over his back, feeling the ridges of the muscles you had just marked with your nails. Your own body still buzzed with the aftermath of your pleasure.
When he finally lifted his head, his eyes met yours, a look of pure adoration in his gaze that left you speechless. He leaned down, capturing your lips in a tender, lingering kiss.
He cradled your face in his hands. "We’re gonna be okay," his breath felt warm against your lips.
The sincerity in his voice made your chest tighten with emotion.
Tears welled up in your eyes as his lips touched yours again, the faint tender kiss so different to the man you used to know. You tried to hold back, to keep the overwhelming tide at bay, but you broke, and a sob escaped your lips.
He pulled back slightly, concern etched across his pretty features. "Hey," he murmured, his thumb brushing away the tears that spilled down your cheeks. "What’s wrong? Did I hurt you?"
You shook your head, "No, it’s not that," your voice trembled, “I’m scared.”
Rafe's expression softened, thumbs gently caressing your cheeks. "Shh, it's okay," he soothed, "Let it out, baby. I’m right here."
You buried your face in his chest, your tears soaking into his skin. The warmth of his embrace, the rhythm of his heartbeat, and his hold were the only thing keeping you together at this point and if you weren’t feeling so much, you’d feel pathetic for relying so much on someone else.
He held you tightly, his hand stroking your hair as you cried, releasing the pent-up anxiety.
"We—I, I don’t know what I’m doing," you admitted through your tears, your voice muffled against his chest. "I’m really, really scared.”
Rafe kissed the top of your head, his lips lingering, "I know, Maybank," he whispered,"I’m scared too.”
You pulled back slightly, looking up at him through tear-filled eyes. "You are?"
He nodded, his attention never wavering from features.
"Yeah, I am. This...And—don’t know what I’m doing either. But I want it. I want you."
“But it’s wrong.”
“I know, pretty.”
He pulled out slowly, both of you hissing at the sensitivity. Rolling onto his side, he gathered you into his arms, holding you close. You nestled against his chest.
“I’m sorry for jumping out the window,” you murmured, your voice muffled against his skin, “You just...make me so angry.”
He chuckled softly, his fingers running through your hair in soothing strokes. "I shouldn’t have locked you in.”
You closed your eyes, feeling the last of your tears dry against his skin. You knew things wouldn’t be easy, but his reassurance gave you a little strength.
After a while, Rafe shifted slightly, tilting your chin up to meet his gaze.
"We’ll figure this out, Maybank.”
“Promise?”
He hesitated, his brow furrowing slightly.
Promises weren’t something he was used to making, you knew that. But then he nodded.
“Promise.”
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