rafesbabygirlx

[rafesbabygirlx]

I can’t explain what stepbro!Rafe does to me 😭

Also the way you write 🫠🥲

shower sex w stepbro!rafe would be soooo🥺😣

cause his perv ass would sneak into your bathroom and watch you and you literally wouldn’t know he’s there until you step back and bump up against him and feel his hard cock on your ass. “thought I’d join you”

and of course you’d flip but in no time he’s got you up against the wall telling you to be quiet as your screams echo😌

warnings — stepcest, stepbro!rafe being a perv (nothing new), slight mention of sex, shower sex, unprotected sex

rafe carefully shut and locked the bathroom door, thankful the water from the shower and your singing washed out the chances of you hearing him enter. his eyes settled on your silhouette, peeping through the foggy glass door of your shower. the corner of his lip twitched upward, watching you stand under the running water with your eyes closed while you rinse the shampoo from your hair. rafe's tongue swiped across his bottom lip, taking in the sight of the way the water dripped off your body.

he ran his palm against his cock, stroking himself through his shorts, biting back a groan, but it wasn’t enough. he needed to feel your perfect cunt wrapped around him, and he soon found himself peeling his clothes off before opening the shower door, and stepping inside without you noticing.

you wiped the water from your face as you stepped out from under the shower head. a startled gasp spilled from your lips you felt something hard against your ass before a pair of arms wrapped around your waist. he dipped his head down, burying his face into the side of your neck, inhaling the sweet scent of your body wash that lingered on your skin, “thought i’d join you.”

“rafe!” you squealed, trying to wriggle out of his arms, “get out!”

“relax, would you? you wouldn’t have left the door unlocked if that was the case,” his arms tightened around you. your face flushed, knowing he was right as his hand snaked down your waist, finding its way between your legs. the pads of his fingers circled your clit, “i can feel how wet you are f’me already. you sure you want me to leave?” he chuckled.

"n-no..." you whined, your hips bucking against his fingers as he increased the pressure on your sensitive bud. he pushed you against the shower, your face pressed to the cool tile walls, pulling a gasp from you as he sank his thick length into your soaked cunt. the sound of his hips smacking against your ass fill the bathroom.

your moans echo off the tiled walls as he pounds into you relentlessly, "shit, are you trying to get us caught?" he grunts in your ear, his hand reaching around to clamp his palm to your mouth.

[rafesbabygirlx]

Next question -

@/drew..starkeyyyx on tik tok

[rafesbabygirlx]

Me too. I gotta stop being in love with toxic men 😷🫠

𝙱𝚊𝚜𝚎𝚋𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚢𝚎𝚛!𝚁𝚊𝚏𝚎 𝚡 𝚃𝚛𝚘𝚙𝚑𝚢𝚠𝚒𝚏𝚎!𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚂𝙼𝙰𝚄

𝙿𝚊𝚛𝚝 9

𝙼𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝 | 𝙼𝚘𝚘𝚍𝚋𝚘𝚊𝚛𝚍

𝙿𝚛𝚎𝚟𝚒𝚘𝚞𝚜 | 𝙽𝚎𝚡𝚝

𝙲𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚜: 𝙷𝚒𝚐𝚑 𝚜𝚌𝚑𝚘𝚘𝚕 𝚜𝚠𝚎𝚎𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚝𝚜 𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚌𝚎 16 𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚗𝚎𝚍 𝚋𝚊𝚜𝚎𝚋𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚜𝚞𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚛 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚛𝚘𝚙𝚑𝚢 𝚏𝚊𝚜𝚑𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚌𝚘𝚕𝚞𝚖𝚗𝚒𝚜𝚝 𝚠𝚒𝚏𝚎. 𝚃𝚑𝚎𝚢 𝚐𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑 𝚞𝚙𝚜 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚍𝚘𝚠𝚗𝚜 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚢 𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚍 𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚜.

𝚁𝚊𝚏𝚎: 𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚢𝚎𝚍 𝚋𝚊𝚜𝚎𝚋𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚝𝚑𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚑𝚒𝚐𝚑 𝚜𝚌𝚑𝚘𝚘𝚕 𝚜𝚌𝚘𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊 𝚜𝚌𝚑𝚘𝚕𝚊𝚛𝚜𝚑𝚒𝚙 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚌𝚘𝚕𝚕𝚎𝚐𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚊 𝚜𝚒𝚐𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚛𝚝𝚕𝚢 𝚊𝚏𝚝𝚎𝚛.

𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛: 𝙰𝚕𝚠𝚊𝚢𝚜 𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚍 𝚏𝚊𝚜𝚑𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚓𝚘𝚞𝚛𝚗𝚊𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚖. 𝚆𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚊𝚖𝚎 𝚌𝚘𝚕𝚕𝚎𝚐𝚎 𝚊𝚜 𝚁𝚊𝚏𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚔𝚜 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚅𝚘𝚐𝚞𝚎.

Another sad one :( sorry babies

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[rafesbabygirlx]

🤭🤭🤭

6 𝑫𝒂𝒚𝒔 𝒐𝒇 𝑪𝒉𝒓𝒊𝒔𝒕𝒎𝒂𝒔 🎄 𝑹𝒂𝒇𝒆 𝑪𝒂𝒎𝒆𝒓𝒐𝒏

𝙳𝚊𝚢 3 - 𝚂𝚗𝚘𝚠𝚎𝚍 𝙸𝚗 - 𝚁𝚊𝚏𝚎 𝚡 𝙿𝚘𝚐𝚞𝚎!𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛

𝚂𝚞𝚖𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚢: 𝚂𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚍 𝚒𝚗 𝚊 𝚜𝚗𝚘𝚠𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚛𝚖, 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚁𝚊𝚏𝚎 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚕𝚎𝚏𝚝 𝚊𝚕𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚒𝚗 𝚊 𝚍𝚊𝚛𝚔𝚎𝚗𝚎𝚍 𝚌𝚊𝚋𝚒𝚗, 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚛𝚖 𝚑𝚘𝚠𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚘𝚞𝚝𝚜𝚒𝚍𝚎 𝚠𝚑𝚒𝚕𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚏𝚒𝚛𝚎 𝚌𝚛𝚊𝚌𝚔𝚕𝚎𝚜 𝚒𝚗𝚜𝚒𝚍𝚎. 𝚆𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚛𝚝𝚜 𝚊𝚜 𝚠𝚑𝚒𝚜𝚔𝚎𝚢-𝚕𝚊𝚌𝚎𝚍 𝚌𝚘𝚌𝚘𝚊 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚊 𝚍𝚊𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚐𝚊𝚖𝚎 𝚘𝚏 "𝚃𝚛𝚞𝚝𝚑 𝚘𝚛 𝙳𝚊𝚛𝚎" 𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚗𝚜 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚘 𝚊𝚗 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚘𝚡𝚒𝚌𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚖𝚒𝚡 𝚘𝚏 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚝 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚜𝚒𝚘𝚗, 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚒𝚌𝚢 𝚝𝚘𝚞𝚌𝚑𝚎𝚜 𝚖𝚎𝚕𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚘 𝚏𝚒𝚎𝚛𝚢 𝚙𝚊𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚘𝚗. 𝙰𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚗𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚍𝚎𝚎𝚙𝚎𝚗𝚜, 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚛𝚖 𝚘𝚞𝚝𝚜𝚒𝚍𝚎 𝚋𝚎𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚜 𝚊 𝚋𝚊𝚌𝚔𝚍𝚛𝚘𝚙 𝚝𝚘 𝚊𝚗 𝚞𝚗𝚎𝚡𝚙𝚎𝚌𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚗𝚎𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚗𝚎𝚒𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚘𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚜𝚊𝚠 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚐.

𝚆𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜: 𝚘𝚛𝚊𝚕 (𝚖 𝚛𝚎𝚌𝚎𝚒𝚟𝚒𝚗𝚐) 𝚖𝚒𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚊𝚛𝚢, 𝚛𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚎 𝚌𝚘𝚠𝚐𝚒𝚛𝚕, 𝚜𝚙𝚒𝚝 𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚢

𝙰/𝙽- 𝙸 𝚏𝚒𝚗𝚒𝚜𝚑𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚊𝚝 3𝚊𝚖 𝚕𝚊𝚜𝚝 𝚗𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚜𝚘 𝙸'𝚖 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚜𝚞𝚛𝚎 𝚒𝚏 𝚒𝚝 𝚖𝚊𝚔𝚎𝚜 𝚜𝚎𝚗𝚜𝚎 𝚕𝚘𝚕

The wind howled outside, shaking the cabin as snow piled higher against the windows. The storm had come in fast, trapping you and Rafe inside while Sarah, Topper, and Kelce were still out, struggling to make their way back. The thought of being stuck here alone with Rafe Cameron hadn’t been on your list of plans for the weekend.  

Rafe made it abundantly clear he wasn’t thrilled about your presence, brushing off your attempts at conversation with snide comments. You’d only come because Sarah begged you to, not wanting to be the only girl on a trip with her brother and his friends. Now, the storm has forced you into an unexpected standoff with the Kook prince himself. You had known them since you were little. Despite being a Pogue from the cut, your dad played an important role in Cameron Development. He just refused to move from where he and your mom were raised. You’d learn more life lessons on the cut, you’d learn the importance of work, and you’d learn how to take care of yourself. You were more well off than your friends, but just from your location alone, the title and the reputation still stook.

The power had gone out hours ago, leaving the cabin cloaked in shadows. You had spent most of your time alone avoiding each. But since the only light and warmth now came from the flickering fire in the family room, casting golden glow across the room, you two ended up sitting together on the couch. Heavy blankets were draped over both of you as you sat on opposite ends of the couch, nursing mugs of whiskey-laced hot cocoa.  

The silence between you was uneasy, filled only by the crackle of the fire and the relentless wind outside. The tension was thick, though whether it stemmed from genuine animosity or something else entirely, you couldn’t quite tell.  

Rafe glanced at you over the rim of his mug, his expression unreadable. “Looks like it’s just you and me tonight,” he said finally, his tone edged with something you couldn’t place. Looking down at your phone, you noticed Sarah had texted you and Rafe that the group was just going to stay at a motel closer to town. It was impossible for them to make it back to the remote cabin. 

You rolled your eyes, trying to ignore the way his voice sent a shiver down your spine. “Lucky me,” you muttered, taking a sip of your drink. The corner of his mouth twitched, and for a moment, the storm outside seemed to quiet, as if the real storm was brewing between the two of you.  

“Truth or Dare?” Rafe had proposed after a long stretch of silence,, his voice carrying that infuriatingly smug tone he always seemed to use around you. You agreed reluctantly, suspecting he’d use the game to tease you. 

It started out innocent enough. Although it’s truth or dare, all you keep throwing at each other is truth. “What’s your favorite food?” “What’s your favorite color?” 

The fire crackled softly in the quiet cabin, the golden glow of the flames flickering against the walls. Outside, the storm continued to rage, wind howling as snow battered the windows. Rafe stretched his legs out lazily, his eyes fixed on you with a smirk as he swirled the whiskey in his mug.  

“Alright,” he said, breaking the silence, “truth or dare?”  

You raised a brow, sipping your cocoa. “Truth. I’m not about to trust you with a dare.”  

Rafe chuckled, the sound low and almost taunting. “Fair enough. What’s the craziest thing you’ve ever done?”  

You thought for a moment, biting your lip. “Probably sneaking into the country club with Sarah one night to swim in the pool. Security almost caught us.”  

Rafe leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “Not bad for a pogue,” he teased. “Your turn.”  

You smirked. “Truth or dare?”  

“Truth,” he replied easily, his gaze not wavering from yours.  

“What’s the most trouble you’ve ever gotten into?”  

Rafe tilted his head, pretending to think. “Define trouble,” he said with a smirk.  

“Something that could’ve actually gotten you locked up,” you clarified, rolling your eyes.  

“Fine,” he said, his tone growing more serious. “Got into it with some guy at a party. Things got... messy. Cops came, but my dad made it all go away.” He leaned back, his expression unreadable. “Your turn. Truth or dare?”  

“Truth,” you answered quickly, wary of what he might come up with.  

“What’s the kinkiest thing you’ve ever done?” he asked, his smirk returning, but this time it felt heavier, more charged.  

You felt your cheeks heat up, the firelight only making it worse. “Bold question,” you muttered.  

“I’m waiting,” he said, leaning back and giving you a look that was both smug and daring.  

You crossed your arms. “Skinny dipping counts, right?”  

Rafe laughed, shaking his head. “Weak answer.”  

“Alright, your turn,” you said, ignoring his jab. “Truth or dare?”  

“Truth,” he said again, his voice dropping slightly.  

“What would you do right now if no one could stop you?”  

His eyes locked onto yours, the tension thick enough to cut. He leaned forward again, his elbows resting on his knees as he let the question hang in the air. “You really want to know, princess?”  

You nodded, holding your ground despite the flutter in your chest.  

“I’d warm you up, for starters,” he said, his voice low and deliberate, a hint of a smirk playing on his lips, as he reaches for your hand, stroking it gently.. Your heart skipped. His challenge hung in the air, and the storm outside seemed to intensify as if it sensed the shift between you. He began to tug on the hand he was rubbing.  

“Fine,” you said, trying to sound unaffected, though your voice wavered slightly. You moved over to his side of the couch and hesitated for a moment before settling yourself across his lap.  

His hands immediately found your hips, steadying you. “Comfortable?” he asked, his tone laced with mockery, though his grip was firm and grounding.  

You glared at him. “Your turn,” you said quickly. “I dare you to kiss me.”  

“You didn’t ask me truth or dare,” Rafe’s smirk returned, but there was something softer beneath it this time. He leaned in, his breath brushing your cheek before his lips met yours. The kiss started slow, almost tentative, but it deepened quickly, the heat between you burning away any remaining tension.

When he pulled back, his forehead rested against yours, his voice a low rasp. “I dare you to suck my cock.”  

You wasted no time sinking to the floor in front of him. Your hands on each of his thighs, moving up to reach the button of his jeans. You open them and tug his pants down his legs. You sit in between his wide spread legs and palm him through his boxers. You can’t believe how big he feels. You really never pictured him in that way and now your mouth is watering at the thought of it. Before you can do anything else, Rafe grabs your chin and leans over you. 

“Open,” commanding as he runs his thumb over your bottom lip. 

You comply and he spits onto your tongue. “Just making sure you know your place here, sweetheart. Swallow.” He leans back and you move to pull his boxers down.

You take his base in your hand and kiss his tip. Using your lips to smear his precum down his length. He’s already shifting above you, throwing his head back on the couch. He grabs a handful of your hair, squeezing it tightly when you move your head lower taking in all of him. 

“Shit that’s fucking good. Taking in all of me like a good little slut. Keep your eyes on me.” He looks down at you with a hazy look and you stare straight into his eyes as you begin to bob your head. 

As you continue to slowly take him all the way again, he starts to breathe heavily, his chest rising and falling rapidly. His grip on your hair tightens, and he pulls your head back, exposing your neck. He leans forward, his lips brushing against your ear, sending shivers down your spine.

"Fuck," Rafe whispers, his voice husky with desire. "Your mouth feels amazing."

You look up at him, your eyes locked onto his, and whisper, "I'm just getting started."

Rafe's eyes flash with excitement, and he pulls your head back down, his hips thrusting gently against your mouth. You feel his warm breath on your skin as he whispers, "Deeper, please. Take me deeper."

You oblige, moving your lips and tongue in sync with his movements, creating a sensual rhythm. His precum mixes with your saliva, creating a slippery texture that allows your lips to glide effortlessly up and down his length.

"Ah, yeah," Rafe groans, his body tensing. "Just like that. Don't stop."

You feel his muscles coiling with anticipation, as he struggles to maintain control. His hand in your hair pulls you closer, deepening the connection between you. You feel his tip hitting the back of your throat, and you relax, allowing him to slide in further.

Rafe's groans grow louder, and his body starts to tremble, signaling that he's on the edge, teetering between pleasure and release. He pulls you off of him, "I...I don't want to come yet," he whispers, his voice strained. "I want to savor this moment, feel your mouth on me for just a little longer."

You look up at him, your eyes sparkling with amusement, and whisper, "We'll see about that."

You continue to tease Rafe, your lips and tongue working in tandem to drive him closer to the edge. He's panting heavily now, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he struggles to maintain control.

"Please…" he whispers, his voice barely audible. "...J-Just a little longer."

You slow down your movements, taking your time to savor the moment. Rafe's eyes flash with frustration, and he tries to thrust his hips forward, seeking more friction. He knows what he asked but your mouth just feels too good to stop. But you're ready for him, and you hold him back, your hands grasping his hips to keep him in place.

"Patience," you whisper, your breath hot against his skin. "This is what you wanted, just a little more time feeling me."

Rafe groans, his body trembling with anticipation. You can feel his muscles coiling, you can feel the internal battle he’s having with this moment. He wants to give in so bad. 

And then, in a flash of movement, you take him deep, your lips wrapping around his length as you swallow him whole. Rafe's eyes go wide, and he lets out a loud groan, his body shuddering as he loses control. You continue to deep throat him as he squirms beneath you. 

"I'm...I'm coming," he whispers, his voice strained.

You feel his release building, his body tensing as he prepares to let go. And then, in a burst of heat and sensation, he's coming, his length pulsing as he empties himself into your mouth.

You swallow, feeling his warmth spread through you. Rafe's body relaxes, those muscles uncoiling as he collapses back onto the couch. He's panting heavily, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he struggles to catch his breath.

You pull back, your lips releasing his length as you look up at him. Rafe's eyes are closed, his face relaxed in a mask of satisfaction. You smile to yourself, feeling a sense of pride and accomplishment.

"Wow," Rafe whispers, his voice barely audible. "That was...wow."

You lean forward, your lips brushing against his ear. "I'm glad you enjoyed it," you whisper.

Rafe's eyes flicker open, and he looks at you. "I more than enjoyed it," he whispers. "I needed that. I’ve been dying for you to do that."

You smile, feeling a sense of connection with him. "I'm also glad I could finally give it to you," you whisper.

Rafe's gaze holds yours, and for a moment, you just look at each other, the only sound is the heavy breathing and the beating of your hearts. And then, without a word, Rafe reaches out, his arms wrapping around you as he pulls you close.

You feel his warmth, his body heat radiating into you as he holds you tight. You wrap your arms around him, holding him close as you both just breathe.

He takes a deep breath, and then, without warning, he stands up, lifting you with him. You feel a rush of excitement as he spins you around.

You feel his fingers tracing down the sides of your body, sending shivers down it. He reaches the hem of your shirt and lifts it up, pulling it over your head. You feel a rush of cool air on your skin as he discards it, and then his hands are on your breasts, grasping them firmly.

Rafe's fingers squeeze your nipples, sending a jolt of pleasure through you. He leans forward, his lips closing around one of your nipples, sucking gently. Your legs go weak and you feel a moan building in your throat as he teases your nipple, his tongue flicking back and forth.

His hands move to your pants, unbuttoning them and pulling them down. You feel his fingers tracing down your thighs, sending shivers down your legs. He kicks off his own pants, and you feel his cock pressing against your ass.

Rafe spins you around, pulling you down to the couch with him. His hands grasping your hips as he turns you to face away from him. You feel his cock pressing against your entrance, and then he's lifting you up, sinking you down onto his length. You feel a rush of pleasure as he fills you, his cock stretching you wide.

As you settle onto his cock, Rafe's hands move to your hips, grasping them firmly. He starts to move you, lifting you up and down as you ride him reverse cowgirl style. You feel his cock sliding in and out of you, the friction building a fire in your belly.

You start to move on your own, your hips rocking back and forth as you ride Rafe's cock. His hands guide you, helping you find a rhythm that drives you both wild. You feel his cock hitting your g-spot, sending waves of pleasure through you.

As you ride him, Rafe's lips are on your back, his tongue tracing up and down your spine. You feel his breath hot against your skin. His hands are on your breasts, squeezing your nipples and sending jolts of pleasure through you.

You're lost in the sensation, your body moving on its own as you ride Rafe's cock. The room around you fades away, leaving only the two of you, lost in the intensity of the moment. You feel your orgasm building, a fire that's burning out of control.

You lean back on to Rafe’s chest and place a foot on the couch and begin to move your hips up and down. “Touch me,” you desperately plead and Rafe swiftly moves the one hand from your breast and swirls rough circles into your clit.

As soon as that pressure is applied, you're coming, your body shuddering. You feel his cock pulsing inside you, his body tensing as he comes right after you. The two of you are lost in the moment, your bodies entwined as you ride out the waves of pleasure.

You don’t get a second to recover before Rafe is lifting you up and laying you back onto the couch and settling in between your legs. You don’t mind though, you're not ready for this to end either.

He strokes his cock a few times to get hard again and as soon as he does he’s plunging right back into you.

As Rafe begins his harsh thrusts, he leans down and kisses you deeply, his tongue probing your mouth. You feel his warm breath on your skin, and his chest pressing against yours. He pulls back, looking into your eyes, and says, "I love being on top of you, feeling your body underneath me, I fucking own you now."

You smile, feeling a rush of excitement, and reply in between breaths, "You feel so good inside me, fucking me like the dirty little whore I am."

Rafe's eyes widen with desire, he honestly didn’t expect those words to come from you. You feel his cock filling you, stretching you, and you arch your back, moving your hips in sync with his, trying to take him deeper. "You're so tight, so wet," he growls. "I love feeling your cunt grip my cock."

As he moves, Rafe leans down and spits into your mouth again, his saliva mixing with yours. You feel a surge of excitement, and you swallow, tasting the salty sweetness of his spit. Rafe groans, his eyes closing in pleasure, and he says, "You're so fucking sexy. I love fucking you like this, making you mine, making you come all over my cock."

You feel his hips move even faster, his thrusts becoming more intense, and you wrap your legs around him, pulling him closer. Rafe's hands are on your breasts, squeezing and kneading, feeling his fingers pinch your nipples.

 "You like it rough, don't you, baby?" he asks, his voice low and husky. "You like it when I fuck you hard and deep, making you scream my name." You nod stupidly, not able to form a sentence right now.

As he fucks you, Rafe leans down and whispers, "I'm going to come soon, baby. I'm going to fill you up with more of my cum, make you feel like a dirty little slut." You feel his cock swelling, his movements becoming more erratic, and you know he's close. Those words make your back arch and make you come, your pussy clenching around his cock, milking him for every last drop of his seed.

"Oh, fuck yeah," Rafe groans, his voice husky with desire, "I can feel you coming, baby, I can feel your hot little cunt squeezing my cock, begging for my cum."

You look up at him, your eyes locking onto his, and you say, "Come inside me. Please. I want to feel you explode, feel your hot cum filling me up." Rafe's eyes flash with excitement, and he thrusts into you one last time, his body tensing, his cock pulsing with his release.

You feel his cum filling you, warming you, and you smile, feeling satisfied, feeling complete. Rafe collapses on top of you, his chest heaving, his breath hot on your skin. You wrap your arms around him, holding him close, and you whisper, "I love being your dirty little slut."

Rafe's eyes open, and he looks at you, his gaze soft, his expression tender. He says, “I love making you mine." You feel his lips on yours, his kiss gentle, complete opposite of how passionate everything just was. You now realize, this wasn’t something done out of boredom. Rafe likes his sister’s pogue friend.

Tags- @maybankslover @eringaitskill @luissa266 @lolll505 @dayyzlol @calaryssia @eg-dr3amer3 @hotch-meeeeeuppppp @rafestar @writtenbyhollywood @leilanizcals @rafestoothbrush @weluvwbb @itsforeverandalwayz @butterfly-ibuki @percysley @siredbtches @bigenergy777 @aupernatural-teenwolflover @slut4you @skywalker0809 @whytheylosttheirminds @starkeysprincess @rafeyscurtainbangs @cameronsprincess @httpsdrewstarkey @angelicameron @littlelamy @kieeslove @snowtargaryen @etheraltides @starkeysprincess @cooper8224 @hockeybabe87 @xdaughterofpersephonex @leather-n-velvet @mima116 @urbrunettebombshell @pogueprincesa @purplerose291 @frankoceanluvr11 @ivysprophecy @starsmoonn @akobx @rafestify @drwstarkeys

[rafesbabygirlx]

6 𝑫𝒂𝒚𝒔 𝒐𝒇 𝑪𝒉𝒓𝒊𝒔𝒕𝒎𝒂𝒔 🎄 𝑹𝒂𝒇𝒆 𝑪𝒂𝒎𝒆𝒓𝒐𝒏

𝙳𝚊𝚢 3 - 𝚂𝚗𝚘𝚠𝚎𝚍 𝙸𝚗 - 𝚁𝚊𝚏𝚎 𝚡 𝙿𝚘𝚐𝚞𝚎!𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛

𝚂𝚞𝚖𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚢: 𝚂𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚍 𝚒𝚗 𝚊 𝚜𝚗𝚘𝚠𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚛𝚖, 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚁𝚊𝚏𝚎 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚕𝚎𝚏𝚝 𝚊𝚕𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚒𝚗 𝚊 𝚍𝚊𝚛𝚔𝚎𝚗𝚎𝚍 𝚌𝚊𝚋𝚒𝚗, 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚛𝚖 𝚑𝚘𝚠𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚘𝚞𝚝𝚜𝚒𝚍𝚎 𝚠𝚑𝚒𝚕𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚏𝚒𝚛𝚎 𝚌𝚛𝚊𝚌𝚔𝚕𝚎𝚜 𝚒𝚗𝚜𝚒𝚍𝚎. 𝚆𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚛𝚝𝚜 𝚊𝚜 𝚠𝚑𝚒𝚜𝚔𝚎𝚢-𝚕𝚊𝚌𝚎𝚍 𝚌𝚘𝚌𝚘𝚊 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚊 𝚍𝚊𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚐𝚊𝚖𝚎 𝚘𝚏 "𝚃𝚛𝚞𝚝𝚑 𝚘𝚛 𝙳𝚊𝚛𝚎" 𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚗𝚜 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚘 𝚊𝚗 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚘𝚡𝚒𝚌𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚖𝚒𝚡 𝚘𝚏 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚝 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚜𝚒𝚘𝚗, 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚒𝚌𝚢 𝚝𝚘𝚞𝚌𝚑𝚎𝚜 𝚖𝚎𝚕𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚘 𝚏𝚒𝚎𝚛𝚢 𝚙𝚊𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚘𝚗. 𝙰𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚗𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚍𝚎𝚎𝚙𝚎𝚗𝚜, 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚛𝚖 𝚘𝚞𝚝𝚜𝚒𝚍𝚎 𝚋𝚎𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚜 𝚊 𝚋𝚊𝚌𝚔𝚍𝚛𝚘𝚙 𝚝𝚘 𝚊𝚗 𝚞𝚗𝚎𝚡𝚙𝚎𝚌𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚗𝚎𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚗𝚎𝚒𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚘𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚜𝚊𝚠 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚐.

𝚆𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜: 𝚘𝚛𝚊𝚕 (𝚖 𝚛𝚎𝚌𝚎𝚒𝚟𝚒𝚗𝚐) 𝚖𝚒𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚊𝚛𝚢, 𝚛𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚎 𝚌𝚘𝚠𝚐𝚒𝚛𝚕, 𝚜𝚙𝚒𝚝 𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚢

𝙰/𝙽- 𝙸 𝚏𝚒𝚗𝚒𝚜𝚑𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚊𝚝 3𝚊𝚖 𝚕𝚊𝚜𝚝 𝚗𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚜𝚘 𝙸'𝚖 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚜𝚞𝚛𝚎 𝚒𝚏 𝚒𝚝 𝚖𝚊𝚔𝚎𝚜 𝚜𝚎𝚗𝚜𝚎 𝚕𝚘𝚕

The wind howled outside, shaking the cabin as snow piled higher against the windows. The storm had come in fast, trapping you and Rafe inside while Sarah, Topper, and Kelce were still out, struggling to make their way back. The thought of being stuck here alone with Rafe Cameron hadn’t been on your list of plans for the weekend.  

Rafe made it abundantly clear he wasn’t thrilled about your presence, brushing off your attempts at conversation with snide comments. You’d only come because Sarah begged you to, not wanting to be the only girl on a trip with her brother and his friends. Now, the storm has forced you into an unexpected standoff with the Kook prince himself. You had known them since you were little. Despite being a Pogue from the cut, your dad played an important role in Cameron Development. He just refused to move from where he and your mom were raised. You’d learn more life lessons on the cut, you’d learn the importance of work, and you’d learn how to take care of yourself. You were more well off than your friends, but just from your location alone, the title and the reputation still stook.

The power had gone out hours ago, leaving the cabin cloaked in shadows. You had spent most of your time alone avoiding each. But since the only light and warmth now came from the flickering fire in the family room, casting golden glow across the room, you two ended up sitting together on the couch. Heavy blankets were draped over both of you as you sat on opposite ends of the couch, nursing mugs of whiskey-laced hot cocoa.  

The silence between you was uneasy, filled only by the crackle of the fire and the relentless wind outside. The tension was thick, though whether it stemmed from genuine animosity or something else entirely, you couldn’t quite tell.  

Rafe glanced at you over the rim of his mug, his expression unreadable. “Looks like it’s just you and me tonight,” he said finally, his tone edged with something you couldn’t place. Looking down at your phone, you noticed Sarah had texted you and Rafe that the group was just going to stay at a motel closer to town. It was impossible for them to make it back to the remote cabin. 

You rolled your eyes, trying to ignore the way his voice sent a shiver down your spine. “Lucky me,” you muttered, taking a sip of your drink. The corner of his mouth twitched, and for a moment, the storm outside seemed to quiet, as if the real storm was brewing between the two of you.  

“Truth or Dare?” Rafe had proposed after a long stretch of silence,, his voice carrying that infuriatingly smug tone he always seemed to use around you. You agreed reluctantly, suspecting he’d use the game to tease you. 

It started out innocent enough. Although it’s truth or dare, all you keep throwing at each other is truth. “What’s your favorite food?” “What’s your favorite color?” 

The fire crackled softly in the quiet cabin, the golden glow of the flames flickering against the walls. Outside, the storm continued to rage, wind howling as snow battered the windows. Rafe stretched his legs out lazily, his eyes fixed on you with a smirk as he swirled the whiskey in his mug.  

“Alright,” he said, breaking the silence, “truth or dare?”  

You raised a brow, sipping your cocoa. “Truth. I’m not about to trust you with a dare.”  

Rafe chuckled, the sound low and almost taunting. “Fair enough. What’s the craziest thing you’ve ever done?”  

You thought for a moment, biting your lip. “Probably sneaking into the country club with Sarah one night to swim in the pool. Security almost caught us.”  

Rafe leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “Not bad for a pogue,” he teased. “Your turn.”  

You smirked. “Truth or dare?”  

“Truth,” he replied easily, his gaze not wavering from yours.  

“What’s the most trouble you’ve ever gotten into?”  

Rafe tilted his head, pretending to think. “Define trouble,” he said with a smirk.  

“Something that could’ve actually gotten you locked up,” you clarified, rolling your eyes.  

“Fine,” he said, his tone growing more serious. “Got into it with some guy at a party. Things got... messy. Cops came, but my dad made it all go away.” He leaned back, his expression unreadable. “Your turn. Truth or dare?”  

“Truth,” you answered quickly, wary of what he might come up with.  

“What’s the kinkiest thing you’ve ever done?” he asked, his smirk returning, but this time it felt heavier, more charged.  

You felt your cheeks heat up, the firelight only making it worse. “Bold question,” you muttered.  

“I’m waiting,” he said, leaning back and giving you a look that was both smug and daring.  

You crossed your arms. “Skinny dipping counts, right?”  

Rafe laughed, shaking his head. “Weak answer.”  

“Alright, your turn,” you said, ignoring his jab. “Truth or dare?”  

“Truth,” he said again, his voice dropping slightly.  

“What would you do right now if no one could stop you?”  

His eyes locked onto yours, the tension thick enough to cut. He leaned forward again, his elbows resting on his knees as he let the question hang in the air. “You really want to know, princess?”  

You nodded, holding your ground despite the flutter in your chest.  

“I’d warm you up, for starters,” he said, his voice low and deliberate, a hint of a smirk playing on his lips, as he reaches for your hand, stroking it gently.. Your heart skipped. His challenge hung in the air, and the storm outside seemed to intensify as if it sensed the shift between you. He began to tug on the hand he was rubbing.  

“Fine,” you said, trying to sound unaffected, though your voice wavered slightly. You moved over to his side of the couch and hesitated for a moment before settling yourself across his lap.  

His hands immediately found your hips, steadying you. “Comfortable?” he asked, his tone laced with mockery, though his grip was firm and grounding.  

You glared at him. “Your turn,” you said quickly. “I dare you to kiss me.”  

“You didn’t ask me truth or dare,” Rafe’s smirk returned, but there was something softer beneath it this time. He leaned in, his breath brushing your cheek before his lips met yours. The kiss started slow, almost tentative, but it deepened quickly, the heat between you burning away any remaining tension.

When he pulled back, his forehead rested against yours, his voice a low rasp. “I dare you to suck my cock.”  

You wasted no time sinking to the floor in front of him. Your hands on each of his thighs, moving up to reach the button of his jeans. You open them and tug his pants down his legs. You sit in between his wide spread legs and palm him through his boxers. You can’t believe how big he feels. You really never pictured him in that way and now your mouth is watering at the thought of it. Before you can do anything else, Rafe grabs your chin and leans over you. 

“Open,” commanding as he runs his thumb over your bottom lip. 

You comply and he spits onto your tongue. “Just making sure you know your place here, sweetheart. Swallow.” He leans back and you move to pull his boxers down.

You take his base in your hand and kiss his tip. Using your lips to smear his precum down his length. He’s already shifting above you, throwing his head back on the couch. He grabs a handful of your hair, squeezing it tightly when you move your head lower taking in all of him. 

“Shit that’s fucking good. Taking in all of me like a good little slut. Keep your eyes on me.” He looks down at you with a hazy look and you stare straight into his eyes as you begin to bob your head. 

As you continue to slowly take him all the way again, he starts to breathe heavily, his chest rising and falling rapidly. His grip on your hair tightens, and he pulls your head back, exposing your neck. He leans forward, his lips brushing against your ear, sending shivers down your spine.

"Fuck," Rafe whispers, his voice husky with desire. "Your mouth feels amazing."

You look up at him, your eyes locked onto his, and whisper, "I'm just getting started."

Rafe's eyes flash with excitement, and he pulls your head back down, his hips thrusting gently against your mouth. You feel his warm breath on your skin as he whispers, "Deeper, please. Take me deeper."

You oblige, moving your lips and tongue in sync with his movements, creating a sensual rhythm. His precum mixes with your saliva, creating a slippery texture that allows your lips to glide effortlessly up and down his length.

"Ah, yeah," Rafe groans, his body tensing. "Just like that. Don't stop."

You feel his muscles coiling with anticipation, as he struggles to maintain control. His hand in your hair pulls you closer, deepening the connection between you. You feel his tip hitting the back of your throat, and you relax, allowing him to slide in further.

Rafe's groans grow louder, and his body starts to tremble, signaling that he's on the edge, teetering between pleasure and release. He pulls you off of him, "I...I don't want to come yet," he whispers, his voice strained. "I want to savor this moment, feel your mouth on me for just a little longer."

You look up at him, your eyes sparkling with amusement, and whisper, "We'll see about that."

You continue to tease Rafe, your lips and tongue working in tandem to drive him closer to the edge. He's panting heavily now, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he struggles to maintain control.

"Please…" he whispers, his voice barely audible. "...J-Just a little longer."

You slow down your movements, taking your time to savor the moment. Rafe's eyes flash with frustration, and he tries to thrust his hips forward, seeking more friction. He knows what he asked but your mouth just feels too good to stop. But you're ready for him, and you hold him back, your hands grasping his hips to keep him in place.

"Patience," you whisper, your breath hot against his skin. "This is what you wanted, just a little more time feeling me."

Rafe groans, his body trembling with anticipation. You can feel his muscles coiling, you can feel the internal battle he’s having with this moment. He wants to give in so bad. 

And then, in a flash of movement, you take him deep, your lips wrapping around his length as you swallow him whole. Rafe's eyes go wide, and he lets out a loud groan, his body shuddering as he loses control. You continue to deep throat him as he squirms beneath you. 

"I'm...I'm coming," he whispers, his voice strained.

You feel his release building, his body tensing as he prepares to let go. And then, in a burst of heat and sensation, he's coming, his length pulsing as he empties himself into your mouth.

You swallow, feeling his warmth spread through you. Rafe's body relaxes, those muscles uncoiling as he collapses back onto the couch. He's panting heavily, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he struggles to catch his breath.

You pull back, your lips releasing his length as you look up at him. Rafe's eyes are closed, his face relaxed in a mask of satisfaction. You smile to yourself, feeling a sense of pride and accomplishment.

"Wow," Rafe whispers, his voice barely audible. "That was...wow."

You lean forward, your lips brushing against his ear. "I'm glad you enjoyed it," you whisper.

Rafe's eyes flicker open, and he looks at you. "I more than enjoyed it," he whispers. "I needed that. I’ve been dying for you to do that."

You smile, feeling a sense of connection with him. "I'm also glad I could finally give it to you," you whisper.

Rafe's gaze holds yours, and for a moment, you just look at each other, the only sound is the heavy breathing and the beating of your hearts. And then, without a word, Rafe reaches out, his arms wrapping around you as he pulls you close.

You feel his warmth, his body heat radiating into you as he holds you tight. You wrap your arms around him, holding him close as you both just breathe.

He takes a deep breath, and then, without warning, he stands up, lifting you with him. You feel a rush of excitement as he spins you around.

You feel his fingers tracing down the sides of your body, sending shivers down it. He reaches the hem of your shirt and lifts it up, pulling it over your head. You feel a rush of cool air on your skin as he discards it, and then his hands are on your breasts, grasping them firmly.

Rafe's fingers squeeze your nipples, sending a jolt of pleasure through you. He leans forward, his lips closing around one of your nipples, sucking gently. Your legs go weak and you feel a moan building in your throat as he teases your nipple, his tongue flicking back and forth.

His hands move to your pants, unbuttoning them and pulling them down. You feel his fingers tracing down your thighs, sending shivers down your legs. He kicks off his own pants, and you feel his cock pressing against your ass.

Rafe spins you around, pulling you down to the couch with him. His hands grasping your hips as he turns you to face away from him. You feel his cock pressing against your entrance, and then he's lifting you up, sinking you down onto his length. You feel a rush of pleasure as he fills you, his cock stretching you wide.

As you settle onto his cock, Rafe's hands move to your hips, grasping them firmly. He starts to move you, lifting you up and down as you ride him reverse cowgirl style. You feel his cock sliding in and out of you, the friction building a fire in your belly.

You start to move on your own, your hips rocking back and forth as you ride Rafe's cock. His hands guide you, helping you find a rhythm that drives you both wild. You feel his cock hitting your g-spot, sending waves of pleasure through you.

As you ride him, Rafe's lips are on your back, his tongue tracing up and down your spine. You feel his breath hot against your skin. His hands are on your breasts, squeezing your nipples and sending jolts of pleasure through you.

You're lost in the sensation, your body moving on its own as you ride Rafe's cock. The room around you fades away, leaving only the two of you, lost in the intensity of the moment. You feel your orgasm building, a fire that's burning out of control.

You lean back on to Rafe’s chest and place a foot on the couch and begin to move your hips up and down. “Touch me,” you desperately plead and Rafe swiftly moves the one hand from your breast and swirls rough circles into your clit.

As soon as that pressure is applied, you're coming, your body shuddering. You feel his cock pulsing inside you, his body tensing as he comes right after you. The two of you are lost in the moment, your bodies entwined as you ride out the waves of pleasure.

You don’t get a second to recover before Rafe is lifting you up and laying you back onto the couch and settling in between your legs. You don’t mind though, you're not ready for this to end either.

He strokes his cock a few times to get hard again and as soon as he does he’s plunging right back into you.

As Rafe begins his harsh thrusts, he leans down and kisses you deeply, his tongue probing your mouth. You feel his warm breath on your skin, and his chest pressing against yours. He pulls back, looking into your eyes, and says, "I love being on top of you, feeling your body underneath me, I fucking own you now."

You smile, feeling a rush of excitement, and reply in between breaths, "You feel so good inside me, fucking me like the dirty little whore I am."

Rafe's eyes widen with desire, he honestly didn’t expect those words to come from you. You feel his cock filling you, stretching you, and you arch your back, moving your hips in sync with his, trying to take him deeper. "You're so tight, so wet," he growls. "I love feeling your cunt grip my cock."

As he moves, Rafe leans down and spits into your mouth again, his saliva mixing with yours. You feel a surge of excitement, and you swallow, tasting the salty sweetness of his spit. Rafe groans, his eyes closing in pleasure, and he says, "You're so fucking sexy. I love fucking you like this, making you mine, making you come all over my cock."

You feel his hips move even faster, his thrusts becoming more intense, and you wrap your legs around him, pulling him closer. Rafe's hands are on your breasts, squeezing and kneading, feeling his fingers pinch your nipples.

 "You like it rough, don't you, baby?" he asks, his voice low and husky. "You like it when I fuck you hard and deep, making you scream my name." You nod stupidly, not able to form a sentence right now.

As he fucks you, Rafe leans down and whispers, "I'm going to come soon, baby. I'm going to fill you up with more of my cum, make you feel like a dirty little slut." You feel his cock swelling, his movements becoming more erratic, and you know he's close. Those words make your back arch and make you come, your pussy clenching around his cock, milking him for every last drop of his seed.

"Oh, fuck yeah," Rafe groans, his voice husky with desire, "I can feel you coming, baby, I can feel your hot little cunt squeezing my cock, begging for my cum."

You look up at him, your eyes locking onto his, and you say, "Come inside me. Please. I want to feel you explode, feel your hot cum filling me up." Rafe's eyes flash with excitement, and he thrusts into you one last time, his body tensing, his cock pulsing with his release.

You feel his cum filling you, warming you, and you smile, feeling satisfied, feeling complete. Rafe collapses on top of you, his chest heaving, his breath hot on your skin. You wrap your arms around him, holding him close, and you whisper, "I love being your dirty little slut."

Rafe's eyes open, and he looks at you, his gaze soft, his expression tender. He says, “I love making you mine." You feel his lips on yours, his kiss gentle, complete opposite of how passionate everything just was. You now realize, this wasn’t something done out of boredom. Rafe likes his sister’s pogue friend.

Tags- @maybankslover @eringaitskill @luissa266 @lolll505 @dayyzlol @calaryssia @eg-dr3amer3 @hotch-meeeeeuppppp @rafestar @writtenbyhollywood @leilanizcals @rafestoothbrush @weluvwbb @itsforeverandalwayz @butterfly-ibuki @percysley @siredbtches @bigenergy777 @aupernatural-teenwolflover @slut4you @skywalker0809 @whytheylosttheirminds @starkeysprincess @rafeyscurtainbangs @cameronsprincess @httpsdrewstarkey @angelicameron @littlelamy @kieeslove @snowtargaryen @etheraltides @starkeysprincess @cooper8224 @hockeybabe87 @xdaughterofpersephonex @leather-n-velvet @mima116 @urbrunettebombshell @pogueprincesa @purplerose291 @frankoceanluvr11 @ivysprophecy @starsmoonn @akobx @rafestify @drwstarkeys

[rafesbabygirlx]

my heart is flutteringggggg

Am I Okay? Pt. 9

[ masterlist ]

[rafesbabygirlx]

STAWP your reaction pics killlllll me 😭

6 𝑫𝒂𝒚𝒔 𝒐𝒇 𝑪𝒉𝒓𝒊𝒔𝒕𝒎𝒂𝒔 🎄 𝑫𝒓𝒆𝒘 𝑺𝒕𝒂𝒓𝒌𝒆𝒚

𝙳𝚊𝚢 2 - 𝙳𝚎𝚌𝚔 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝙷𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚜 - 𝙳𝚛𝚎𝚠 𝚂𝚝𝚊𝚛𝚔𝚎𝚢 𝚡 𝙶𝙵!𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛

𝚂𝚞𝚖𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚢: 𝙵𝚘𝚛 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚏𝚒𝚛𝚜𝚝 𝙲𝚑𝚛𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚖𝚊𝚜 𝚝𝚘𝚐𝚎𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛, 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝙳𝚛𝚎𝚠 𝚏𝚒𝚗𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛𝚜𝚎𝚕𝚟𝚎𝚜 𝚍𝚎𝚌𝚘𝚛𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚊𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚝𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝, 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚏𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚟𝚎 𝚊𝚝𝚖𝚘𝚜𝚙𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚚𝚞𝚒𝚌𝚔𝚕𝚢 𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚗𝚜 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚍. 𝙰𝚖𝚒𝚍 𝚝𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚕𝚎𝚍 𝚐𝚊𝚛𝚕𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚜 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝙲𝚑𝚛𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚖𝚊𝚜 𝚕𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝𝚜, 𝙳𝚛𝚎𝚠’𝚜 𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚢𝚏𝚞𝚕 𝚝𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚗𝚜 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚘 𝚊 𝚙𝚊𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚊𝚝𝚎 𝚖𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝. 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚛𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚘𝚏 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝’𝚜 𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚙𝚎𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚘𝚗𝚕𝚢 𝚐𝚎𝚝𝚜 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚎 𝚎𝚡𝚌𝚒𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚊𝚋𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝'𝚜 𝚝𝚘 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚎.

𝚆𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜: 𝚝𝚒𝚎𝚍 𝚞𝚙 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛 (𝚊𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚍 𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚜 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚛𝚘𝚊𝚝) 𝚌𝚑𝚘𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚔, 𝚜𝚖𝚞𝚝, 𝚍𝚘𝚐𝚐𝚢, 𝚘𝚛𝚊𝚕 (f receiving)

𝙰/𝙽: 𝚌𝚛𝚊𝚣𝚢 𝚑𝚘𝚠 𝙸 𝚠𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝚂𝚞𝚋!𝚁𝚊𝚏𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝙳𝚘𝚖!𝙳𝚛𝚎𝚠 🤭

The glow of the Christmas lights cast a warm, golden hue across Drew’s apartment, the faint hum of holiday jazz adding to the cozy atmosphere. The room was scattered with boxes of ornaments and decorations, a chaotic attempt to bring festive cheer, though the real spark in the room had nothing to do with tinsel or garlands.  

Drew was rummaging through a box when you stood on your toes, struggling to hang a strand of garland across the curtain rod. “Need some help with that, shorty?” he drawled, his voice laced with playful teasing.  

You turned to him, rolling your eyes with a smirk. “I can handle it, thanks.”  

He sauntered over, his tall frame towering above you, effortlessly taking the garland from your hands. His fingers brushed yours as he adjusted it on the rod, but instead of stepping away, his hands found their way to your waist. His touch lingered, sending a ripple of heat through your body.  

“Hmm,” Drew murmured, leaning closer, his lips dangerously close to your ear. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything as beautiful as you, tangled up in garlands.”  

Your laugh came out breathless, betraying the flutter in your chest. “Are you seriously fuck while we’re decorating for Christmas?”  

He grinned, his lips brushing your jaw. “Oh, I’m dead serious. And I know it’s working.”  

Before you could respond, Drew spun you around, pulling you flush against his chest. His hands slid lower, gripping your hips as his lips hovered over yours. “You’re the best decoration in this whole apartment,” he murmured, his voice deep and full of desire.  

Your witty comeback vanished when Drew grabbed a tangle of Christmas lights from the couch. In one swift move, he had you pinned against the wall, his grin wicked as he held your wrists together, winding the lights around them with deliberate care.  

“Drew,” you gasped, half-protesting, half-laughing as he stepped back to admire his handiwork.  

“Shh,” he said with a smirk, his fingers grazing the exposed skin of your arm. “You’re glowing, baby.”  

The warm light illuminated the mischievous glint in his eyes as he pressed his body against yours. His lips captured yours in a searing kiss, deep and consuming. The new piece of garland you had been holding slipped from your grasp, forgotten, as his hands roamed your body, igniting every nerve ending. Despite you trying to continue decorating, Drew didn’t let up, his lips trailing a path down your neck, his teeth grazing your skin just enough to make you shiver.  

“Drew,” you whimpered, your voice barely audible, as he kissed his way to your collarbone.  

He pulled back, his gaze locking with yours. “Tell me what you want, sweetheart,” he said, his voice dark and commanding.  

“You,” you admitted breathlessly, your cheeks flushing under his intense stare.  

A satisfied smirk tugged at his lips. Unwinding the lights from your wrists, he scooped you up with ease and carried you to the couch. Setting you down gently, his gaze never left yours.  

Straightening, Drew retrieved the lights and the garland you’d dropped, letting it trail between his fingers as he approached. The look in his eyes was pure heat as he leaned down over you. “Let’s finish what we started,” he said, his voice low and seductive, while he draped the lights over the back of the couch.  

The garland brushed against your skin as he draped it around your shoulders, the soft greenery trailing down to rest against your neck. Slowly, deliberately, he wrapped it lightly around, his fingers brushing your pulse point with each pass.  

“You look like a gift just waiting to be unwrapped,” Drew murmured, his lips ghosting over yours.  

Your breath hitched as he leaned in, his hands sliding beneath your sweater. Piece by piece, he undressed you, each layer discarded with unhurried precision until you were bare before him. His eyes darkened as they roamed over you, taking in every inch.  “Perfect,” he whispered, adjusting the garland around your neck before tugging it gently to bring your lips to his.  

The soft glow of the Christmas tree twinkled in the background, but it was nothing compared to the heat radiating between you and Drew. His kisses grew deeper, his hands exploring your body with a reverence that made you feel worshipped. Every moment felt like a celebration, the perfect gift for your first Christmas together. 

Drew’s lips left yours slowly, a lingering kiss that left your chest heaving. His hands, warm and firm, skimmed down your sides as he knelt before you, his blue eyes filled with an intensity that sent shivers cascading over your skin.  

“You have no idea how much I’ve been wanting this,” he murmured, his lips brushing the curve of your collarbone.  

His kisses were deliberate, a slow descent down your body that set every nerve alight. He took his time, worshipping every inch of you—his lips trailing down your chest, his tongue teasing the sensitive peaks of your breasts, before continuing his journey. Your hands instinctively found his hair as his mouth reached your stomach, his tongue swirling over your skin, leaving a trail of heat in its wake.

 “Drew…” you whispered, your voice trembling as he hooked his fingers under the waistband of your panties, sliding them down agonizingly slowly.  

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmured, his voice low and thick with desire. His eyes flicked up to yours as he settled between your thighs, spreading them gently.  

The first press of his mouth to your core made you gasp, your back arching at the sudden burst of pleasure, the garland around your neck tickling your skin as you do. Drew groaned against you, the vibration sending sparks through your body as he explored you with his tongue.  

“Drew… oh my God,” you whimpered, your hands tightening in his hair as he pulled you closer, his mouth relentless.  

He licked and sucked with precision, his tongue finding the spots that made your hips buck against him. When his lips wrapped around your clit, sucking gently, you couldn’t hold back the moan that escaped you.  

“Let me hear you, baby,” he said against your skin, his voice muffled but filled with hunger.  

Your head fell back against the couch, your chest rising and falling rapidly as the pressure in your core built to a breaking point. Drew’s tongue flicked and swirled, his hands gripping your thighs to keep you steady as your body trembled under his touch.  

“I’m close,” you breathed, your voice high and desperate, your nails scraping against his scalp.  

He didn’t let up, his movements growing faster, more precise, until you shattered beneath him. A cry tore from your lips as your climax washed over you, your thighs squeezing around his head as wave after wave of pleasure consumed you.  

Drew continued his ministrations, lapping up every bit of your release until your body sagged against the couch, your breathing uneven. Slowly, he pulled back, his lips glistening as he looked up at you, his grin wicked.  

“You taste like heaven,” he said, his voice rough with want.  

Before you could recover, Drew stood, his hands gripping your waist as he guided you to your hands and knees on the couch, hanging the upper half of your body off the back. His body pressed against yours from behind, the hard line of his arousal unmistakable against your skin.  

“You ready for me, baby?” he murmured, his lips brushing the shell of your ear as his hands slid down to grip your hips.  

“Yes,” you whispered, your voice trembling with anticipation, your body already aching for him again.  

Drew leaned over you, his chest pressing against your back as he kissed the side of your neck, his hands roaming over your body. “Good,” he said, his voice low and commanding. “Because I’m not done with you yet.”  

Drew positioned himself behind you, his strong hands steadying your hips. One hand traced the curve of your back while the other reached for the garland still loosely draped around your neck. He wrapped it in his fingers, tugging gently until your head tilted back, exposing your throat to him.  

“You look so perfect like this,” he murmured, his voice dark and dripping with desire. His lips brushed the shell of your ear as he aligned himself at your entrance, teasing you with the head of his length.  

“Please,” you gasped, your voice breathless, need coursing through every inch of you.  

Without another word, he pushed in with a sharp thrust, bottoming out in one fluid motion. The sudden fullness made you cry out, your fingers clutching the couch cushions for support.  

“Fuck, baby,” Drew groaned, his grip on the garland tightening just enough to hold your head back, your neck arched in submission. “You feel so good around me.”  

He didn’t give you time to adjust, pulling out and slamming back in with a force that had your body jolting forward. His pace was relentless, each thrust deep and punishing as he gripped your hips tightly, keeping you exactly where he wanted you.  

“Baby!” you shouted, your voice breaking as he hit the perfect spot over and over again.  

“That’s it,” he growled, his lips brushing against your shoulder. “Take it, baby. Just like that.”  

The garland around your neck added a delicious tension as he used it to pull you back against him, his movements rough and commanding. Your body arched further, the combination of his grip and the rhythm of his hips driving you to the edge faster than you thought possible.  

“You’re so fucking tight,” Drew muttered, his voice strained with pleasure as he pounded into you, the sound of skin against skin filling the room.  

Your hands scrambled for purchase, your body trembling as the pleasure built to an almost unbearable intensity. “Drew, I’m close,” you whimpered, your voice high and desperate.  

“Come for me,” he commanded, his tone low and demanding as his thrusts grew harder, deeper. “I want to feel you fall apart.”  

The combination of his words, the pressure on your neck, and the overwhelming sensation of him inside you sent you spiraling. Your climax tore through you, a cry ripping from your lips as your body shook with the force of your release.  

Drew didn’t slow down, his pace unrelenting as he chased his own release. “You’re so fucking perfect,” he groaned, his voice rough as his grip on your hips tightened.  

With a few final thrusts, he buried himself deep inside you, his groan loud and guttural as he spilled into you. His body tensed against yours, the garland slipping from his grip as he pressed his forehead to your back, his breathing ragged.  

The two of you stayed there for a moment, tangled together in the aftermath, the Christmas lights casting a warm glow over your entwined bodies. Drew pressed a soft kiss to your shoulder, his hands sliding up your sides to hold you close.  

You could get used to Christmas with him.

Tags- @maybankslover @eringaitskill @luissa266 @lolll505 @dayyzlol @calaryssia @eg-dr3amer3 @hotch-meeeeeuppppp @rafestar @writtenbyhollywood @leilanizcals @rafestoothbrush @weluvwbb @itsforeverandalwayz @butterfly-ibuki @percysley @siredbtches @bigenergy777 @aupernatural-teenwolflover @slut4you @rafegf-real @skywalker0809 @whytheylosttheirminds @starkeysprincess @rafeyscurtainbangs @cameronsprincess @itneverendshere @zya8tracks @httpsdrewstarkey @angelicameron @littlelamy @kieeslove @snowtargaryen @nemesyaaa @etheraltides @cooper8224 @hockeybabe87 @xdaughterofpersephonex @leather-n-velvet @mima116 @urbrunettebombshell @pogueprincesa @purplerose291 @frankoceanluvr11 @ivysprophecy @starsmoonn @akobx @rafestify @drwstarkeys

[rafesbabygirlx]

Got me crying over here

I love you, I’m sorry

A letter from reader to Rafe

Content: Angst, like PURE sad, based on the song I love you, I’m sorry by Gracie Abrams (may or may not be accurate)

A/N: about that cliffhanger and happy ending, I changed my mind… also ignore any writing mistakes if there’s any and this was kinda rushed so I hope it still turns out good

Masterlist

dividers from @anitalenia

Rafe,

It is Saturday night. I should be out doing something, partying or whatever to enjoy myself, yet here i am, pen in hand, finding myself writing to you again. I know this letter will never reach you- it’ll end up crumpled at the bottom of my drawer or burned to ashes. Still, I can’t seem to stop myself.

It has been exactly two august ago since everything fell apart. I remember the way I laid it all out, raw, I wanted to be real, hoping that honesty would mend us. We weren’t perfect. Hell, we were far from it. We fought like fire and gasoline, burning everything we touched. Jealousy leads us to mistrust each other but even then, I didn’t think it would end the way it did. I never thought that fight would be the last..the final, devastating blow before you ghosted me and blocked me everywhere.

I swear it wasn’t my intention to break up with you, I thought by exposing the cracks, we could patch them together. Instead, the truth just ended up pushing you away. When you drove off in your Benz and left me standing at my gate, it felt like everything had stopped. The time, the world, my heart…everything froze. I couldn’t breathe. I wanted to scream, I wanted to stop you, beg you to stay, to tell you that we could still save us but you didn’t look back, and i was too late.

Now, i watch you from a distance as you become successful, helping your dad doing business, running Cameron’s development like you were born to do it. I heard your name whispered in admiration at the club where I work, how you charm people the way you trained for. And you know what? I’m so so proud of you Rafe. I always knew you had it in you. I’ll be rooting for you always, even from the shadows.

Maybe two summers from now we’ll be talking again at some point, exchange smiles, our lives untangled and we’re cool again. I can picture you’ll be in your family’s jet, travelling, and me, on my boat moving on with our own lives. By then, i hope..im actually ready to move on. I know you’ve already moved on- I mean, why wouldn’t you? Still, there’s part of me wish that you wouldn’t yet, and maybe, just maybe, you would take me back.

But that’s just selfish isn’t it? I was selfish when we were together too. I made everything about me, i was inconsiderate, I turn something small into raging battles. I didn’t listen, didn’t see you for who you were. I’m ashamed of the person I was, of the mistakes I made. After everything i did, I’m surprised you haven’t send someone to kill me yet.

Lately I find myself sitting on the porch, watching sunsets like we used to, with a glass of something strong in my hand. I laugh at myself, at the crash I made, because what else can I do? It’s a twisted kind of coping—laughing at my own heartbreak. It doesn’t feel real and it’s really hard to let go but i guess that’s just the way life goes.

I know i was a dick, Rafe. I had too many flaws to count but as sick as it sounds, I loved you first. You’ll always be my first love. You were the best and the worst thing that ever happened to me, a storm that left me shattered but alive. Your love had impact me deeply, it is carved in my soul. No matter where we are, i want you to know that I’ll carry the past and the weight of my mistakes with me. Trust me, it will always, haunt me.

I regret every second for not treating you well, for not being the person you needed. Lastly, i want you to know that I still, truly, deeply, love you, I’m sorry.

*Ding* you heard the bell rings. You rush downstairs to answer the door.

“Pizza delivery”, says the delivery boy standing in front of you. You almost forgot you ordered one, an hour ago. You take your prepaid alfredo chicken pizza and thank him. It was Rafe’s favourite pizza, you’re not sure if it’s still his favourite though. After shutting the door, you walk to your kitchen.

Just two seconds later, *ding* the bell rings again. Did the delivery boy forget anything? You thought.

You open the door, “yes-“ you pause. You couldn’t believe it, standing right in front of you,

“Topper?”

“Topper what are you doing here?” you ask, your voice laced with confusion.

He then steps aside and reveals a man behind him, lying on the steps of your porch- a man whose silhouette you’d recognize anywhere. “Rafe,” you whisper.

“Shit I’m sorry to bother you but this dumbass got into an accident for driving while he’s high,” Topper blurts out, panickly.

Your brow furrowing and your confusion deepens. You walk closer to Rafe and spot the blood dripping from his head, “Accident? What? Then why do you bring him here instead of the hospital?” You ask, your voice sharp, slicing through the chaos of the moment.

“He won’t let me. He insisted I bring him here to see you,” Topper explains.

“Y/n,” Rafe speaks up, his voice low and strained.

Your heart skips a beat. It’s like the universe has stopped spinning again. This is the first time you hear him calling your name after two whole years.

“Hey Rafe, you’re bleeding,” you say, your voice mix with feelings.

“I’m fine,” he says, giving a soft, disarming smile while trying to sit up.

You instruct Topper to go find some cloth to stop the bleeding. As he dissapears, you sit on your knees facing to Rafe, “Rafe, what happened? Why are you here?” you ask, still have no clue of what’s going on here.

“I wanted to see you,” he replies, putting on that damn smile again, the one that’s always managed to unravel you. “I miss you, y/n.”

Your face goes pale, your eyes widens, the words hang in the hair, heavy and unexpected. “Rafe, you’re drunk,” you accuse, trying to make sense of what’s happening right now.

“No, I’m not, i swear I’m very conscious right now,” he insists, his voice firm. You’re still not sure if he’s telling the truth or not. “I really miss you, y/n,” he continues, his voice low but still clear for you to hear it.

Your heart aches, torn between disbelief and the undeniable pull of his words. “How hard did you hit your head? God, you’re still bleeding. We need to see a doctor,” you say, trying to stand up, but he grabs your hand, pulling you back down.

“Stop it, I’m fine i swear…this is nothing,” he says waving off the concern. Just then, Topper returns with a towel in his hand. He hands the towel to you and says, “dude, are you sure you’re okay? When i saw your car there were smokes everywhere. Looks like you hit that tree pretty hard,” his voice fill with concern.

“I’m fine Top, just go. I need to talk to y/n,” Rafe says with a dismissive wave. Topper hesitates, he looks at you for confirmation as if you’re the one in charge here. You nod at him, signalling an approval, “s’okay Top i can handle this.”

“Okay, just call me if anything happens,” he says. “Thank you,” you mutter softly to Topper as he’s leaving towards his car.

With Topper gone, you shift your focus back to Rafe. You take the towel and start dabbing on the blood on his forehead, “we still need to get this stitched up,” you say. Rafe then grabs your wrist, his grip firm but not forceful, “look at me,” he demands.

You look at him straight in the eyes, drowning in his blue eyes. It’s overwhelming- staring at the man that you love but no longer yours.

“I do mean what i said, i miss you y/n and i wanted to see you,” he says, his tone steady and sure.

“But why now?” You ask, your voice breaking under the weight of the question.

“Sar..Sarah told me tonight that you’ve been writing letters about me. She found them stashed under your bed,” he says, hesitantly.

Your stomach drops and you shake your head in disbelief, “God…i knew it there was something wrong. She was acting so weird when she left this morning,” you mutter.

“So it’s true? You’ve been writing about me?”

Your face is turning red, you’re struggling to find the words. “I- yes…I’ve been writing letters. Pretending like I’m gonna send it to you but i never do,” you stutter.

“Why didn’t you just send them?” He presses, his voice low, almost pleading.

“You know why Rafe…you’ve moved on. You blocked me few months after we broke up. You’re thriving now with your job, you got your whole life together, and I- I was the reason why we broke up. I can’t just crawl my way back into your life like nothing happened,” you shatter, your voice breaking as you’re struggling to control your tears.

Rafe shakes his head. He brushes his thumb over your knuckles and kisses it. “You’re wrong y/n, you’re absolutely wrong. I’ve been doing nothing over the past two years except than trying to forget about you. That’s why I’ve been doing all these jobs, thinking it could distract me, but no,” he shakes his head again. “Nothing could make me stop thinking about you.”

His confession leaves you breathless, your tears streaming down your face as he continues. “About the blocking and disappearing, I’m really sorry, I was a coward. The truth is, that day i came to your house to apologize. Then, as I stood outside, i saw you were laughing with jj through your window. I knew you guys were not together cause after jj left, I may or may not have confronted him…” he then mouthed sorry. “But then, I remember the way you looked so happy when you’re with him. At that time, I knew I had to let you go cause you deserve someone better and you deserve to be happy so that’s why I blocked you..as if that makes any difference.”

You idiot,” you scoff. “I never wanted anyone else, only you Rafe, only you. You’re the only one who could truly make me happy.”

His eyes glisten, his smile soft and hesitant. “Please forgive me y/n, I swear I’m a better person now and I love- I love you, so much. I still do.”

You reach up, caress his cheek and pull him in for a kiss. “I love you too Rafe,” you whisper. He cups your face and returns the kiss. The kiss is passionate, slow and tender. His lip is so soft and only god knows how much you miss this. The world fades around you, leaving only the two of you, two broken pieces finding their way back to each other.

You pull away from his face and let out a giggle. “Why are you laughing?” He asks, can’t help but let out a soft giggle too.

“Before you came I was actually writing another letter for you,” you admit, a shy smile appears on your face.

“Oh really? Tell me about it baby,” he smirks. Your smile widens at the sound of the nickname that rolls out from his mouth. “Mm I miss that. You, calling me baby. Anyways, it’s in my room, wanna come in?” You ask.

He shakes his head, pulling you closer as he leans back against the stairs railing. “Hmm in a bit sweetheart, you can tell me here while we stargaze. I missed your porch- and mostly you, of course,” he replies with a faint smile.

So you do. You talk to him about the letter while your head rest on his shoulder and your fingers intertwined. “Lastly I wrote, I love you, I’m sorry,” you say, explaining the last content of the letter. But then, you realise he has gone quiet. His stillness unsettling. You glance up to him, “Rafe?” He’s not responding. You check his pulse but there is none. Panic sets in as you shake him, calling his name.

“Rafe”

“Rafe, wake up”

“Wake up!”

“Wake up!”

“Y/n”

“Y/n”

“Y/n, wake up”

You gasp, your heart is pounding like a drum. You’re sweating all over your body as reality crashes down. It was a nightmare.

“Hey..baby you okay?” You turn your head to your right and realise it’s Rafe. He’s okay, he’s alive and he’s sitting on the bed next to you. Relief floods through you like a tidal wave.

“Is it the nightmare again?” He asks. You nod, signalling him that he’s right.

“It’s okay baby I got you. Here, come back to sleep,” he says, gently pulling you into his arms. You smile and cuddle him, clinging to the illusion of safety his embrace provides. You close your eyes again trying to fall back to sleep till your alarm suddenly rings.

You wake up with a tear running down your cheek. You hit the snooze button and realise that was a dream and this time, it’s the true reality. You look to the other side of your bed, it’s empty. It always has been for quite a while now. The truth is, that night after Rafe collapsed, you called for an ambulance. On the way to the hospital, they try everything to make his heart beat again, but nothing works. It was too late. He had lost too many blood before that you weren’t aware of and that same night, Rafe had died in your arms.

It’s been 3 years since the tragic. You keep having the same dream almost every night. Part of you is grateful that you and Rafe had ended in good terms but another part of you knows that the truth is you’ll never get the chance to redeem yourself and be a better partner. There’s nothing remaining other than the memories that will haunt you forever.

Rafe, if you’re hearing this, I love you, I’m sorry.

Like and reblog if you want to kys after reading this😇☺️

[rafesbabygirlx]

𝙱𝚊𝚜𝚎𝚋𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚢𝚎𝚛!𝚁𝚊𝚏𝚎 𝚡 𝚃𝚛𝚘𝚙𝚑𝚢𝚠𝚒𝚏𝚎!𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚂𝙼𝙰𝚄

𝙿𝚊𝚛𝚝 9

𝙼𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝 | 𝙼𝚘𝚘𝚍𝚋𝚘𝚊𝚛𝚍

𝙿𝚛𝚎𝚟𝚒𝚘𝚞𝚜 | 𝙽𝚎𝚡𝚝

𝙲𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚜: 𝙷𝚒𝚐𝚑 𝚜𝚌𝚑𝚘𝚘𝚕 𝚜𝚠𝚎𝚎𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚝𝚜 𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚌𝚎 16 𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚗𝚎𝚍 𝚋𝚊𝚜𝚎𝚋𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚜𝚞𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚛 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚛𝚘𝚙𝚑𝚢 𝚏𝚊𝚜𝚑𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚌𝚘𝚕𝚞𝚖𝚗𝚒𝚜𝚝 𝚠𝚒𝚏𝚎. 𝚃𝚑𝚎𝚢 𝚐𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑 𝚞𝚙𝚜 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚍𝚘𝚠𝚗𝚜 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚢 𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚍 𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚜.

𝚁𝚊𝚏𝚎: 𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚢𝚎𝚍 𝚋𝚊𝚜𝚎𝚋𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚝𝚑𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚑𝚒𝚐𝚑 𝚜𝚌𝚑𝚘𝚘𝚕 𝚜𝚌𝚘𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊 𝚜𝚌𝚑𝚘𝚕𝚊𝚛𝚜𝚑𝚒𝚙 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚌𝚘𝚕𝚕𝚎𝚐𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚊 𝚜𝚒𝚐𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚛𝚝𝚕𝚢 𝚊𝚏𝚝𝚎𝚛.

𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛: 𝙰𝚕𝚠𝚊𝚢𝚜 𝚕𝚘���𝚎𝚍 𝚏𝚊𝚜𝚑𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚓𝚘𝚞𝚛𝚗𝚊𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚖. 𝚆𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚊𝚖𝚎 𝚌𝚘𝚕𝚕𝚎𝚐𝚎 𝚊𝚜 𝚁𝚊𝚏𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚔𝚜 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚅𝚘𝚐𝚞𝚎.

Another sad one :( sorry babies

Taglist- @rafestoothbrush @weluvwbb @itsforeverandalwayz @butterfly-ibuki @megiiite @percysley @siredbtches @bigenergy777 @aupernatural-teenwolflover @slut4you @rafegf-real @skywalker0809 @kieeslove @snowtargaryen @zya8tracks @angelicameron @maybankslover @whytheylosttheirminds @nemesyaaa @etheraltides @starkeysprincess @itneverendshere @sugarcoatedstarkey @cameronsprincess @cooper8224 @hockeybabe87 @xdaughterofpersephonex @leather-n-velvet @mima116 @urbrunettebombshell @pogueprincesa @purplerose291 @frankoceanluvr11 @ivysprophecy @starsmoonn @akobx @rafestify @rafescokewhore @httpsdrewstarkey @cameronsprincess @marleymarleymarleymarley @littlelamy

[rafesbabygirlx]

Sub!Rafe supremacy 🏆✨

6 𝑫𝒂𝒚𝒔 𝒐𝒇 𝑪𝒉𝒓𝒊𝒔𝒕𝒎𝒂𝒔 🎄 𝑹𝒂𝒇𝒆 𝑪𝒂𝒎𝒆𝒓𝒐𝒏

𝙳𝚊𝚢 1 - 𝙽𝚊𝚞𝚐𝚑𝚝𝚢 𝙻𝚒𝚜𝚝 - 𝚂𝚞𝚋!𝚁𝚊𝚏𝚎 𝚡 𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛

𝚂𝚞𝚖𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚢: 𝚁𝚊𝚏𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚐𝚎𝚝 𝚊𝚠𝚊𝚢 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚋𝚎𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚘𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚗𝚊𝚞𝚐𝚑𝚝𝚢 𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝, 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞’𝚛𝚎 𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚖𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚜𝚞𝚛𝚎 𝚑𝚎 𝚙𝚊𝚢𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚙𝚛𝚒𝚌𝚎. 𝙸𝚗 𝚊 𝚗𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚏𝚒𝚕𝚕𝚎𝚍 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚝𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚜𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚢𝚏𝚞𝚕 𝚙𝚘𝚠𝚎𝚛 𝚜𝚑𝚒𝚏𝚝𝚜, 𝚢𝚘𝚞’𝚕𝚕 𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚠 𝚑𝚒𝚖 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚋𝚎𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚋𝚊𝚍 𝚌𝚊𝚗 𝚋𝚎 𝚒𝚝𝚜 𝚘𝚠𝚗 𝚛𝚎𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚍.

𝚆𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜: 𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚌𝚞𝚏𝚏 𝚞𝚜𝚎, 𝚠𝚑𝚒𝚙 𝚞𝚜𝚎, 𝚜𝚖𝚞𝚝, 𝚏𝚊𝚌𝚎 𝚛𝚒𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚛𝚒𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚜𝚞𝚋 𝚁𝚊𝚏𝚎

𝙼𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝

Rafe leaned against his kitchen counter, scrolling idly on his phone, when a firm knock echoed through his apartment. Curious, he swung the door open—and froze.  

There you stood, framed in the doorway, a vision in a sleek, velvet Santa corset that hugged your figure, paired with thigh-high boots that clicked confidently against the floor as you stepped inside. A playful smirk curled your lips, and over your shoulder, you carried a crimson sack adorned with jingling bells.  

“Well, well,” you said, your voice dripping with amusement. “Rafe Cameron. You’ve been very bad this year.”  

He leaned against the doorframe, crossing his arms with a grin. “Bad? Me? You must have the wrong guy.”  

“Nice try.” You pulled a scroll from the sack and unrolled it dramatically. “Let’s see here—late-night pranks, stealing the last slice of cake, and oh, this one’s my favorite: orchestrating the mistletoe ambush. Sound familiar?”  

His grin widened. “So, what happens now? You write a strongly worded letter to Santa?”  

“No.” You took a deliberate step closer, pulling a pair of fuzzy red handcuffs from the sack. “I’m here to make sure you get what you deserve.”  

Before he could protest, you snapped the cuffs around his wrists, tugging them gently behind his back. Rafe let out a low laugh, the sound reverberating in the quiet room.  

“This is adorable,” he teased. “You think you’re in charge now?”  

“Oh, I know I am.” Reaching into the sack again, you retrieved a peppermint-scented whip. The faint aroma filled the air as you traced the leather lightly over his chest, your gaze locking with his.  

His smirk faltered, just for a moment, before returning. “And what’s next? You interrogate me with Christmas carols?”  

You leaned in, your voice a sultry whisper. “Only if you don’t behave.”  

The tension crackled between you like the fire burning in the hearth behind him. The soft pop and hiss of the flames provided the perfect soundtrack to your game. The cool peppermint oil you dabbed onto your fingertips sent shivers through him as you traced it along his collarbone, the sharp scent mingling with the warm notes of pine and cinnamon from the room.  

“Explain your misdeeds, Rafe,” you said, your lips brushing against his ear. “And maybe, just maybe, I’ll go easy on you.”  

His voice was low, filled with challenge. “What if I have no regrets?”  

You laughed softly, shaking your head as you leaned in closer. “Then I guess we’ll have to keep going until you do.”  

Before he could respond, you captured his lips in a searing kiss. His hands flexed against the cuffs, testing the restraints, but they held firm. When the kiss broke, his gaze was darker, his smirk more dangerous.  

“This is cute,” he said, his voice a low rumble. “But let’s see how long you can hold the upper hand.”  

“Oh, Rafe,” you replied, brushing the whip lightly across his shoulder. “You’re not in a position to make demands.”  

Rafe leaned harder against the counter, his blue eyes narrowing as a slow, amused smirk tugged at the corner of his lips. The glint of challenge in his gaze told you he wasn’t about to let you win that easily, even with his hands restrained.  

“You’ve got my attention,” he said, voice smooth and teasing as he leaned his weight back, testing the cuffs just enough to make the chain jingle softly. “But you’re playing a dangerous game, sweetheart.”  

You tilted your head, feigning innocence as you traced the handle of the peppermint-scented whip up the center of his chest, watching his shoulders tense beneath his thin t-shirt. “Dangerous? I thought I was just spreading some Christmas cheer,” you replied, your voice syrupy and sweet.  

“That’s what we’re calling this now?” Rafe shot back, his cocky grin still firmly in place, though his breathing had deepened just slightly under your careful ministrations. “You breaking into my apartment in a—” his eyes swept over your velvet corset and thigh-high boots, lingering longer than necessary, “—festive little number and slapping cuffs on me? Santa would not approve.”  

“Santa doesn’t need to know what I do, I’m here to make sure those on the naughty list are punished” you murmured, leaning in close until your lips hovered just a breath away from his. The scent of peppermint oil still lingered in the air, sharp and intoxicating, and you could practically feel the heat radiating from him. “Besides,” you continued, your voice dropping to a sultry whisper, “Santa‘a not in charge of this particular bad boy. I am.”  

Rafe exhaled a soft laugh, though his voice was lower now, tinged with something heavier. “That right? I’d be careful if I were you. Bad boys bite back.”  

“Oh, I’m counting on it.”  

The whip trailed lower, grazing just above the waistband of his jeans. Rafe shifted, his muscles flexing beneath the taut fabric of his shirt as he regarded you with a look that was equal parts playful and dark. There was something addicting about the way he stared at you—challenging you to keep going, daring you to see just how far you’d push him.  

“You’re enjoying this way too much,” he muttered, but the amused edge in his voice betrayed him.  

“Maybe I am,” you purred, brushing your lips along his jawline before pulling back with a playful grin. “But that’s not your concern, is it? You’re supposed to be reflecting on all those things I listed.”  

Rafe cocked a brow, lips curling into a devilish smirk as he tilted his head slightly. “Let’s see… the cake was worth it, the pranks were legendary, and the mistletoe ambush? You didn’t seem to mind that one.”  

Your laugh rang out as you gave him a teasing swat with the whip across his thigh—just enough to make him tense but not enough to wipe the grin from his face. “Careful, Cameron. You’re not exactly pleading your case here.”  

He rolled his shoulders, pushing off the counter slightly despite the restraints. “Maybe I don’t want to plead. Maybe I’m more interested in what happens next.”  

You stared him down for a beat, the heat in the room thickening like the glow of the fire crackling in the hearth in the living room. It was a dance—the way he pushed, the way you pulled back just enough to keep him guessing. Slowly, you unhooked the whip from where it hung on your fingers, letting it drop to the floor with a faint thud.  

“Then I guess we skip the misdeeds, for now,” you murmured, stepping closer until you were chest to chest, your fingers sliding under the edge of his shirt to trace the firm lines of his stomach. Rafe inhaled sharply, his gaze flickering to yours, darker now. “But if you don’t behave,” you added softly, tugging on the cuff chain just enough to remind him of his position, “I’ll have to find another way to punish you.”  

His smile widened, though there was a hint of challenge in his tone as he replied, “You really think you can handle me?”  

“Oh, I know I can.” You leaned in, pressing a lingering kiss to the corner of his mouth before pulling back with a smirk of your own. “Now be a good boy, Rafe.”  

For the first time, Rafe didn’t have a comeback. His eyes followed you as you stepped back with a slow, deliberate confidence, the bells on your crimson sack jingling softly with every movement. The air between you buzzed like a live wire, a tension thick enough to taste.  

“Game on,” he muttered under his breath, more to himself than to you, as you disappeared around the corner.  

Rafe tilted his head back, letting out a low chuckle that echoed in the otherwise quiet kitchen, his pulse still racing. If you thought you’d won this round, you were in for a surprise—Rafe Cameron didn’t go down without a fight. 

You stride back into the kitchen, the soft jingle of bells you untied from the sack now around your boots the only sound in the room. Rafe's gaze snaps to you, and his expression shifts from smug confidence to stunned silence. His mouth parts slightly as his eyes rake over you, taking in every inch of your bare form save for the thigh-high boots that click against the floor. You hold his stare, the whip dangling loosely from your fingers, having picked it back up, exuding power with every deliberate step.  

You move him from the counter, taking his place. Without breaking eye contact, you lift the whip, running the tassels slowly, seductively, down your body. The teasing motion makes his breath hitch, his jaw tightening as he fights to maintain composure. When the whip trails lower, the tip grazing over your clit, your soft moans echo in the silence, sending him over the edge. Rafe instinctively moves closer, his desire unrestrained.  

“Uh-uh,” you chide, your voice sharp yet laced with amusement. The crack of the whip against his thigh is quick, precise, and commanding, earning a low grunt from him. “You don’t move unless I say so.”  

He retreats slightly, his defiance flickering as he clenches his fists, but you’re not about to let him off that easily. In one fluid motion, you grab his arm, pulling him toward you with force that surprises him, motioning him to his knees before you.  

“Simon says,” you purr, tilting his chin upward with the handle of the whip, your smirk wicked and daring. “Tongue out.”  

His compliance is immediate, his lips parting as his tongue slips out in obedient surrender, his gaze locked on yours, blazing with a mix of challenge and submission. The tension crackles between you, and you savor the control, knowing you’ve completely unraveled him. Rafe's breathing grows heavier as he kneels before you, his gaze locked on yours, dark and smoldering. The tension in the air is palpable.

"Good boy," you purr, running the whip’s tassels across his face, letting them linger just long enough to tease. His eyes are still on you, blazing with a mixture of defiance and submission, a combination that only fuels the fire building in your core.

You lean forward slightly, still perched on the counter, your movements slow and deliberate as you trace his jawline with the tip of your finger. “See? You can behave when you want to,” you murmur, a wicked grin tugging at your lips.

Rafe’s hands flex behind his back, his muscles straining against the temptation to reach for you. He’s teetering on the edge of control, and you can see it in the way his chest rises and falls, in the way his tongue stays perfectly still, waiting for your command.

“You like being told what to do, don’t you?” you ask, tilting your head as you slide the whip’s handle under his chin, lifting his face slightly. His response is a low, guttural sound that sends a shiver down your spine.

“Words, Rafe,” you chide, your voice dripping with authority.

His tongue retracts just enough to let him speak. “Only when it’s you,” he rasps, his voice thick with desire.

The admission makes your heart race, but you keep your composure, leaning back against the counter with an air of confidence. “Smart answer,” you reply, your tone light but edged with satisfaction. “Maybe you deserve a reward.”

Rafe’s eyes flicker with hope, his body tensing in anticipation, but you’re not about to make it that easy for him. You lean forward, your voice a sultry whisper as you say, “Simon says… don’t move a muscle.”

He stays perfectly still, sticking his tongue back out. His obedience is both surprising and intoxicating. You trace the whip’s tassels down his chest, letting them skim over his abdomen before pulling them back up with a sharp flick. The motion draws a low growl from him, his restraint beginning to crack under your control.

“Sweet boy,” you praise again, watching the way his pupils dilate at the words. You lean down until your lips are just inches from his ear and add, “But don’t think for a second you’re in charge tonight.”

Rafe’s response is a slow, deliberate grin, his eyes dark with unspoken promises that send a shiver down your spine. Without hesitation, you step closer, tangling your fingers in his hair and tugging firmly, guiding his head toward you. His lips part, his breath warm against your skin as you lower yourself onto his face, and in an instant, you lay your pussy on his flattened tongue, feeling it as it explores every inch of you.

The initial contact makes your body jolt, your movements instinctively faltering as a rush of pleasure courses through you. You feel the curve of a smile form on his face, the subtle vibration of his amusement only heightening the sensation.  

“You enjoying this as much as I am?” you ask breathlessly, your gaze meeting his smoldering eyes. He nods slightly in response, the motion teasing you further as he doubles down on his efforts.  

Your rhythm builds, each grind of your hips sending waves of heat through you. “Flick your tongue, baby,” you command, your voice cracking with need. The instant he complies, the tip of his tongue swirling at your entrance, a loud moan escapes your lips. You feel the wetness dripping down, slickening his cheeks and chin as he moans into you, the vibrations pushing you closer to the edge.  

You brace yourself against the counter, your knuckles turning white as you struggle to maintain control. But Rafe knows exactly what he’s doing—each flick, swirl, and shift of his tongue driving you higher, faster. The fire in your stomach burns fiercely, igniting with an intensity you can’t suppress. Slowing your movements, you try to hold on a moment longer, grinding against him in a desperate attempt to draw out the pleasure. You’re supposed to be in control. You can't give in that easily.   

Then, he shifts his head just slightly, hitting the perfect spot and his nose rocking against your clit, your resolve crumbles. A shudder wracks through you as your pace quickens involuntarily, your climax crashing over you with devastating force. You cry out, gripping the counter to steady yourself as waves of pleasure leave you trembling in his grasp.  

As the aftershocks ripple through you, you try to lift yourself away, but the hunger in his eyes stops you. You move back down slightly, his mouth resuming its work as he laps up every last trace of your release. You melt under his touch, the world narrowing to the warmth of his lips and the unrelenting focus in his gaze. He knows how to get you even when you don’t want him too.  

You help him up to his feet, moving to the living room and unlocking the cuffs. “Get naked, baby.” 

He complies without hesitation, his hands moving swiftly to shed his clothing until every barrier between you is gone. His body is a masterpiece in the soft glow of the dimly lit room, each line and curve illuminated like a work of art. Yet his focus remains entirely on you, his piercing gaze locked with yours, a mix of obedience and raw anticipation evident in his posture as he stands still, awaiting your command.  

With a smirk, you step toward him, the clink of the cuffs in your hand drawing his attention. “Hands,” you instruct, your voice soft but firm. He raises them obediently, and you secure the cuffs around his wrists, this time in front of him. His lips twitch upward in subtle recognition of the shift—knowing you’re granting him just enough freedom for what you have planned.  

You guide him to the couch, pushing him gently until he sinks down onto the cushions, the plush fabric contrasting with the tension in his body. He looks up at you, eyes dark with want, but he doesn’t move, his cuffed hands resting in his lap, waiting for permission.  

“Good boy,” you murmur, straddling his waist, your thighs framing his hips as you settle into his lap. His sharp intake of breath at the contact sends a thrill through you, his skin warm against yours. He goes to brush his fingers along your stomach. 

You push his hands down and  lean in close, brushing your lips over his ear as you whisper, “I’m in control, Rafe, remember? You don’t touch unless I say. Understood?”  

“Yes,” he replies, his voice low and husky, the word almost a growl.  

Satisfied, you trail your hands down his chest, your nails grazing lightly against his skin, earning a sharp inhale from him. His restrained hands twitch, but he doesn’t lift them, his compliance making you grin. You grind your hips slowly up and down his length, teasing him as your bodies connect, the friction igniting a fire between you.  

“You’re doing so well,” you purr, placing your hands on his shoulders for balance as you continue to move. His jaw tightens, his head tipping back slightly, exposing the curve of his throat as he fights the urge to take control.  

Leaning back, you meet his gaze, your movements deliberate and tantalizingly slow. “Tell me what you want, Rafe,” you tease, your voice laced with mock innocence.  

“You,” he rasps, his voice strained. “I want all of you.”  

You smile wickedly, leaning in so close that your breath mingles with his, the tension crackling between you. His eyes dart to your lips just before you nip at his bottom lip, eliciting a low growl from deep in his chest. You pull back just enough to meet his darkened gaze, a teasing smirk playing on your lips.  

“Then you’re going to have to earn it,” you purr, your voice dripping with challenge, each word deliberate and tantalizing.  

Rafe’s jaw tightens, his lips parting slightly as if to respond, but you cut him off with a finger pressed lightly against his mouth. “No talking. Just listening,” you command softly, your eyes glinting with authority.  

He nods, his compliance stirring something primal in you. Moving with purpose, you take his cuffed wrists in your hands, guiding them up to rest on the back of the couch. His muscles flex under your touch, but he holds steady, his breaths coming heavier as you climb onto his lap, straddling his waist.  

“Good boy,” you murmur, leaning forward to trail your lips along the sharp edge of his jawline. He shudders beneath you, his body instinctively leaning into yours. 

You reach out, running your hands down his chest, feeling every taut line of his torso. “You want to touch me, don’t you?” you ask, your voice a teasing whisper against his ear.  

“Yes,” he replies, his voice rough, barely above a growl.  

You sit up, breaking contact with him, scratching your nails lightly on his neck, watching the way his body responds, the way he moves into your touch, the way his hips shift beneath you trying to feel you again. “Not yet,” you say firmly, smirking at the soft groan of frustration he lets out.  

“I’m starting to think you enjoy torturing me,” he says, his voice low and filled with a mix of amusement and desperation.  

You laugh softly, your hands sliding down his arms until your fingers meet his cuffed wrists. “It’s not torture,” you reply, leaning closer so your lips are just a breath away from his. “It’s discipline.”  

Before he can reply, you press your lips to his, your body pressing firmly against his. His hands flex in the cuffs, desperate to touch you, but you keep him in place, controlling every movement, every sensation.  

You lean into him, lips ghosting over his cheek and then trailing a path down his neck. His scent, musky and intoxicating, fills your senses as your fingers continue their feigned innocence, brushing “accidentally” over his length. Each fleeting touch makes him flinch, his body tensing beneath you. His breathing is ragged now, his chest rising and falling as he struggles to maintain control.  

“Do you want it, baby?” you whisper into his ear, your voice smooth and dripping with seduction.  

“Yes,” Rafe replies immediately, the desperation in his voice making you smile.  

“How bad?” you purr, pulling back just enough to see his flushed face.  

“Bad,” he groans, his voice thick and raw with need.  

You tilt your head, pretending to consider. “Hm, you’ve got to convince me, sweet boy.”  

He breaks. “I need you so fucking bad,” he blurts out, his voice cracking as tears well in his eyes. “I need you to sit on my cock and fuck the shit out of me already. It hurts—I fucking need you.” The words tumble out of him, uninhibited, his desperation painted clearly on his face as a single tear escapes and slides down his cheek.  

Your heart clenches at the sight, and you soften for just a moment, cupping his face in your hands. Gently, you wipe away his tears with your thumbs, your gaze locking with his. “Okay, okay,” you soothe, your voice a mix of teasing and genuine affection. “I’ll give you what you need.”  

His eyes burn with gratitude and unrestrained hunger as you move back closer to him, your boots jingling softly with every move. The sound only heightens the tension, each chime a reminder of the game you’ve played all night. You pull him to sit back up, your body pressing against his in all the right ways.  

Without wasting another second, you position yourself, taking hold of his length and guiding him to your entrance. Slowly, deliberately, you sink down onto him, a gasp escaping your lips as he fills you completely. Rafe throws his head back, a guttural groan escaping his throat as his hands, still cuffed, flex uselessly in front of him.  

You pause for a moment, adjusting, letting the sensation of him inside you consume you. His eyes find yours, a mix of awe and raw need etched across his face. Then, with a wicked grin, you lift yourself and slam back down, earning a deep moan from him that reverberates through the room.  

“Fuck, you feel so good,” he growls, his voice rough with pleasure.  

You don’t respond, too focused on your movements. Rising and falling, you set a relentless rhythm, the bells on your boots creating a hypnotic jingle with each bounce. Your hands grip his shoulders for balance, and when that’s not enough, you reach for his neck, steadying yourself as you ride him harder, faster.  

Rafe’s hips buck beneath you, trying to meet your movements, but the cuffs keep him from taking control. “You’re killing me, baby,” he groans, his voice strained.  

“You’re mine tonight,” you breathe, leaning forward so your lips are just a whisper away from his. “And you don’t do anything unless I let you.”  

The tension between you builds, each thrust sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body. Your nails dig into his neck as you throw your head back, moaning his name. The sounds of your passion fill the room, blending with the soft chime of the bells and the steady rhythm of your bodies moving together.  

Rafe’s eyes never leave you, his gaze full of adoration and desperation. “Please, baby,” he murmurs, his voice breaking. “Let me—”  

“Not yet,” you cut him off, your movements only growing more determined. “You’ll take it until I say you’ve had enough.”

You feel the fire in your core intensifying, each thrust bringing you closer to the edge. The look in Rafe’s eyes—pure, unadulterated lust mixed with helpless devotion—only adds fuel to the fire. His chest heaves beneath you, his muscles taut as he strains against the cuffs, desperate to touch you, to take control, but completely at your mercy.  

“Fuck, you’re so big baby,” you gasp, your voice shaky as the pleasure overtakes you. Your hands grip his neck tighter for balance as your rhythm grows erratic, each bounce sending shockwaves through your body.  

Rafe groans deeply, his head falling back against the couch as his hips try to meet your movements. “You’re gonna kill me, baby,” he growls, his voice thick with need. “Let me touch you—please, I can’t—”  

“No,” you pant, cutting him off as you lean forward, your lips brushing against his ear. “This is about me and you trying to get yourself on my nice list.”  

The heat in your body reaches its peak, your movements becoming frenzied as you chase the release building within you. But it’s not enough—you need more. You slow just slightly and meet Rafe’s eyes, your breath hitching as you command, “Rub my clit, Rafe. Now.”  

His eyes widen, and a flicker of relief crosses his face as you guide his cuffed hands to your center. The moment his fingers connect with you, you shiver, his touch electric against your sensitive skin. He moves in slow, deliberate circles, the pressure perfect, and your body responds instantly.  

“Just like that,” you moan, your head falling back as your hips grind against his hand. The combined sensation of his cock inside you and his fingers expertly working your clit pushes you dangerously close to the edge.  

“Oh, fuck,” you cry out, your voice trembling as the fire in your stomach ignites into a full-blown inferno. Your walls clench around him, your body trembling as wave after wave of pleasure crashes over you. Your moans fill the room, loud and unabashed, your nails digging into his shoulders as you ride out the high.  

Rafe watches you, completely mesmerized, his own control hanging by a thread. The way your body moves, the way your face twists in pleasure—it’s enough to drive him insane.  

“God, you’re so fucking perfect,” he groans, his voice low and raw. “Fuck, I’m gonna cum.”

You slow down your movements, still riding out your high but preventing him from his. One last form of dominance as you drag out his pleasure. Grinding down onto him is painful movements.

“I need you to move,” he pleads.

“Tell me why you deserve a reward?” You giggle, mocking him slightly.

“Fuck- I’ll be so good to you. You can have all the pieces of cake. No more scaring you before bed. Do whatever you fucking want to me, just let me fucking come!” Tears form in his eyes again.

As you come down from your high, your body still shaking slightly, you glance down at him with a wicked grin. “You’ve convinced me, you’ve been so good, baby,” you murmur, leaning forward to press a soft kiss to his lips. “Now it’s your turn.”  

His eyes darken with hunger, and he lets out a relieved moan as you start moving again. This time, it’s for him, your hips rolling in a way that has him trembling beneath you.  

“Fuck, I’m so close,” he groans, his voice breaking as his hips jerk uncontrollably.  

“Come for me, Rafe,” you whisper, your voice soft but commanding. “I want to feel you lose control.”  

That’s all it takes. His head falls back, his mouth opening in a silent cry as he reaches his peak. His body tenses, his hips bucking up into you as he spills inside you, the cuffs clinking faintly as his hands flex uselessly.  

You slow your movements again, guiding him through his release, your hands moving to cup his face. His eyes flutter open, meeting yours with a look of pure adoration and exhaustion.  

“Fuck,” he breathes, a shaky laugh escaping his lips. “You’re unreal.”  

You smile softly, brushing a damp strand of hair from his forehead. “I told you, Rafe. You don’t get anything unless I say so.”  

“Then remind me to never get on your bad side,” he chuckles, his voice still thick with satisfaction.  

“I think you liked it though,” you reply through a smirk.

You press a gentle kiss to his lips, the intensity of the moment giving way to something softer. You unlock the cuffs for a final time and you both savor the quiet aftermath, your bodies tangled together on the couch, the only light coming from his small Christmas tree in the corner of his living room.

Tags- @maybankslover @eringaitskill @luissa266 @lolll505 @dayyzlol @calaryssia @eg-dr3amer3 @hotch-meeeeeuppppp @rafestar @writtenbyhollywood @leilanizcals @rafestoothbrush @weluvwbb @itsforeverandalwayz @butterfly-ibuki @percysley @siredbtches @bigenergy777 @aupernatural-teenwolflover @slut4you @rafegf-real @skywalker0809 @whytheylosttheirminds @starkeysprincess @rafeyscurtainbangs @cameronsprincess @itneverendshere @zya8tracks @httpsdrewstarkey @angelicameron @littlelamy @kieeslove @snowtargaryen @nemesyaaa @etheraltides @starkeysprincess @cooper8224 @hockeybabe87 @rafeyscurtainbangs @rafescokewhore @drewsephrry @rafeswif3

[rafesbabygirlx]

6 𝑫𝒂𝒚𝒔 𝒐𝒇 𝑪𝒉𝒓𝒊𝒔𝒕𝒎𝒂𝒔 🎄 𝑫𝒓𝒆𝒘 𝑺𝒕𝒂𝒓𝒌𝒆𝒚

𝙳𝚊𝚢 2 - 𝙳𝚎𝚌𝚔 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝙷𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚜 - 𝙳𝚛𝚎𝚠 𝚂𝚝𝚊𝚛𝚔𝚎𝚢 𝚡 𝙶𝙵!𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛

𝚂𝚞𝚖𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚢: 𝙵𝚘𝚛 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚏𝚒𝚛𝚜𝚝 𝙲𝚑𝚛𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚖𝚊𝚜 𝚝𝚘𝚐𝚎𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛, 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝙳𝚛𝚎𝚠 𝚏𝚒𝚗𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛𝚜𝚎𝚕𝚟𝚎𝚜 𝚍𝚎𝚌𝚘𝚛𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚊𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚝𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝, 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚏𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚟𝚎 𝚊𝚝𝚖𝚘𝚜𝚙𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚚𝚞𝚒𝚌𝚔𝚕𝚢 𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚗𝚜 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚍. 𝙰𝚖𝚒𝚍 𝚝𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚕𝚎𝚍 𝚐𝚊𝚛𝚕𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚜 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝙲𝚑𝚛𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚖𝚊𝚜 𝚕𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝𝚜, 𝙳𝚛𝚎𝚠’𝚜 𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚢𝚏𝚞𝚕 𝚝𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚗𝚜 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚘 𝚊 𝚙𝚊𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚊𝚝𝚎 𝚖𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝. 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚛𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚘𝚏 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝’𝚜 𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚙𝚎𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚘𝚗𝚕𝚢 𝚐𝚎𝚝𝚜 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚎 𝚎𝚡𝚌𝚒𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚊𝚋𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝'𝚜 𝚝𝚘 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚎.

𝚆𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜: 𝚝𝚒𝚎𝚍 𝚞𝚙 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛 (𝚊𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚍 𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚜 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚛𝚘𝚊𝚝) 𝚌𝚑𝚘𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚔, 𝚜𝚖𝚞𝚝, 𝚍𝚘𝚐𝚐𝚢, 𝚘𝚛𝚊𝚕 (f receiving)

𝙰/𝙽: 𝚌𝚛𝚊𝚣𝚢 𝚑𝚘𝚠 𝙸 𝚠𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝚂𝚞𝚋!𝚁𝚊𝚏𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝙳𝚘𝚖!𝙳𝚛𝚎𝚠 🤭

The glow of the Christmas lights cast a warm, golden hue across Drew’s apartment, the faint hum of holiday jazz adding to the cozy atmosphere. The room was scattered with boxes of ornaments and decorations, a chaotic attempt to bring festive cheer, though the real spark in the room had nothing to do with tinsel or garlands.  

Drew was rummaging through a box when you stood on your toes, struggling to hang a strand of garland across the curtain rod. “Need some help with that, shorty?” he drawled, his voice laced with playful teasing.  

You turned to him, rolling your eyes with a smirk. “I can handle it, thanks.”  

He sauntered over, his tall frame towering above you, effortlessly taking the garland from your hands. His fingers brushed yours as he adjusted it on the rod, but instead of stepping away, his hands found their way to your waist. His touch lingered, sending a ripple of heat through your body.  

“Hmm,” Drew murmured, leaning closer, his lips dangerously close to your ear. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything as beautiful as you, tangled up in garlands.”  

Your laugh came out breathless, betraying the flutter in your chest. “Are you seriously fuck while we’re decorating for Christmas?”  

He grinned, his lips brushing your jaw. “Oh, I’m dead serious. And I know it’s working.”  

Before you could respond, Drew spun you around, pulling you flush against his chest. His hands slid lower, gripping your hips as his lips hovered over yours. “You’re the best decoration in this whole apartment,” he murmured, his voice deep and full of desire.  

Your witty comeback vanished when Drew grabbed a tangle of Christmas lights from the couch. In one swift move, he had you pinned against the wall, his grin wicked as he held your wrists together, winding the lights around them with deliberate care.  

“Drew,” you gasped, half-protesting, half-laughing as he stepped back to admire his handiwork.  

“Shh,” he said with a smirk, his fingers grazing the exposed skin of your arm. “You’re glowing, baby.”  

The warm light illuminated the mischievous glint in his eyes as he pressed his body against yours. His lips captured yours in a searing kiss, deep and consuming. The new piece of garland you had been holding slipped from your grasp, forgotten, as his hands roamed your body, igniting every nerve ending. Despite you trying to continue decorating, Drew didn’t let up, his lips trailing a path down your neck, his teeth grazing your skin just enough to make you shiver.  

“Drew,” you whimpered, your voice barely audible, as he kissed his way to your collarbone.  

He pulled back, his gaze locking with yours. “Tell me what you want, sweetheart,” he said, his voice dark and commanding.  

“You,” you admitted breathlessly, your cheeks flushing under his intense stare.  

A satisfied smirk tugged at his lips. Unwinding the lights from your wrists, he scooped you up with ease and carried you to the couch. Setting you down gently, his gaze never left yours.  

Straightening, Drew retrieved the lights and the garland you’d dropped, letting it trail between his fingers as he approached. The look in his eyes was pure heat as he leaned down over you. “Let’s finish what we started,” he said, his voice low and seductive, while he draped the lights over the back of the couch.  

The garland brushed against your skin as he draped it around your shoulders, the soft greenery trailing down to rest against your neck. Slowly, deliberately, he wrapped it lightly around, his fingers brushing your pulse point with each pass.  

“You look like a gift just waiting to be unwrapped,” Drew murmured, his lips ghosting over yours.  

Your breath hitched as he leaned in, his hands sliding beneath your sweater. Piece by piece, he undressed you, each layer discarded with unhurried precision until you were bare before him. His eyes darkened as they roamed over you, taking in every inch.  “Perfect,” he whispered, adjusting the garland around your neck before tugging it gently to bring your lips to his.  

The soft glow of the Christmas tree twinkled in the background, but it was nothing compared to the heat radiating between you and Drew. His kisses grew deeper, his hands exploring your body with a reverence that made you feel worshipped. Every moment felt like a celebration, the perfect gift for your first Christmas together. 

Drew’s lips left yours slowly, a lingering kiss that left your chest heaving. His hands, warm and firm, skimmed down your sides as he knelt before you, his blue eyes filled with an intensity that sent shivers cascading over your skin.  

“You have no idea how much I’ve been wanting this,” he murmured, his lips brushing the curve of your collarbone.  

His kisses were deliberate, a slow descent down your body that set every nerve alight. He took his time, worshipping every inch of you—his lips trailing down your chest, his tongue teasing the sensitive peaks of your breasts, before continuing his journey. Your hands instinctively found his hair as his mouth reached your stomach, his tongue swirling over your skin, leaving a trail of heat in its wake.

 “Drew…” you whispered, your voice trembling as he hooked his fingers under the waistband of your panties, sliding them down agonizingly slowly.  

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmured, his voice low and thick with desire. His eyes flicked up to yours as he settled between your thighs, spreading them gently.  

The first press of his mouth to your core made you gasp, your back arching at the sudden burst of pleasure, the garland around your neck tickling your skin as you do. Drew groaned against you, the vibration sending sparks through your body as he explored you with his tongue.  

“Drew… oh my God,” you whimpered, your hands tightening in his hair as he pulled you closer, his mouth relentless.  

He licked and sucked with precision, his tongue finding the spots that made your hips buck against him. When his lips wrapped around your clit, sucking gently, you couldn’t hold back the moan that escaped you.  

“Let me hear you, baby,” he said against your skin, his voice muffled but filled with hunger.  

Your head fell back against the couch, your chest rising and falling rapidly as the pressure in your core built to a breaking point. Drew’s tongue flicked and swirled, his hands gripping your thighs to keep you steady as your body trembled under his touch.  

“I’m close,” you breathed, your voice high and desperate, your nails scraping against his scalp.  

He didn’t let up, his movements growing faster, more precise, until you shattered beneath him. A cry tore from your lips as your climax washed over you, your thighs squeezing around his head as wave after wave of pleasure consumed you.  

Drew continued his ministrations, lapping up every bit of your release until your body sagged against the couch, your breathing uneven. Slowly, he pulled back, his lips glistening as he looked up at you, his grin wicked.  

“You taste like heaven,” he said, his voice rough with want.  

Before you could recover, Drew stood, his hands gripping your waist as he guided you to your hands and knees on the couch, hanging the upper half of your body off the back. His body pressed against yours from behind, the hard line of his arousal unmistakable against your skin.  

“You ready for me, baby?” he murmured, his lips brushing the shell of your ear as his hands slid down to grip your hips.  

“Yes,” you whispered, your voice trembling with anticipation, your body already aching for him again.  

Drew leaned over you, his chest pressing against your back as he kissed the side of your neck, his hands roaming over your body. “Good,” he said, his voice low and commanding. “Because I’m not done with you yet.”  

Drew positioned himself behind you, his strong hands steadying your hips. One hand traced the curve of your back while the other reached for the garland still loosely draped around your neck. He wrapped it in his fingers, tugging gently until your head tilted back, exposing your throat to him.  

“You look so perfect like this,” he murmured, his voice dark and dripping with desire. His lips brushed the shell of your ear as he aligned himself at your entrance, teasing you with the head of his length.  

“Please,” you gasped, your voice breathless, need coursing through every inch of you.  

Without another word, he pushed in with a sharp thrust, bottoming out in one fluid motion. The sudden fullness made you cry out, your fingers clutching the couch cushions for support.  

“Fuck, baby,” Drew groaned, his grip on the garland tightening just enough to hold your head back, your neck arched in submission. “You feel so good around me.”  

He didn’t give you time to adjust, pulling out and slamming back in with a force that had your body jolting forward. His pace was relentless, each thrust deep and punishing as he gripped your hips tightly, keeping you exactly where he wanted you.  

“Baby!” you shouted, your voice breaking as he hit the perfect spot over and over again.  

“That’s it,” he growled, his lips brushing against your shoulder. “Take it, baby. Just like that.”  

The garland around your neck added a delicious tension as he used it to pull you back against him, his movements rough and commanding. Your body arched further, the combination of his grip and the rhythm of his hips driving you to the edge faster than you thought possible.  

“You’re so fucking tight,” Drew muttered, his voice strained with pleasure as he pounded into you, the sound of skin against skin filling the room.  

Your hands scrambled for purchase, your body trembling as the pleasure built to an almost unbearable intensity. “Drew, I’m close,” you whimpered, your voice high and desperate.  

“Come for me,” he commanded, his tone low and demanding as his thrusts grew harder, deeper. “I want to feel you fall apart.”  

The combination of his words, the pressure on your neck, and the overwhelming sensation of him inside you sent you spiraling. Your climax tore through you, a cry ripping from your lips as your body shook with the force of your release.  

Drew didn’t slow down, his pace unrelenting as he chased his own release. “You’re so fucking perfect,” he groaned, his voice rough as his grip on your hips tightened.  

With a few final thrusts, he buried himself deep inside you, his groan loud and guttural as he spilled into you. His body tensed against yours, the garland slipping from his grip as he pressed his forehead to your back, his breathing ragged.  

The two of you stayed there for a moment, tangled together in the aftermath, the Christmas lights casting a warm glow over your entwined bodies. Drew pressed a soft kiss to your shoulder, his hands sliding up your sides to hold you close.  

You could get used to Christmas with him.

Tags- @maybankslover @eringaitskill @luissa266 @lolll505 @dayyzlol @calaryssia @eg-dr3amer3 @hotch-meeeeeuppppp @rafestar @writtenbyhollywood @leilanizcals @rafestoothbrush @weluvwbb @itsforeverandalwayz @butterfly-ibuki @percysley @siredbtches @bigenergy777 @aupernatural-teenwolflover @slut4you @rafegf-real @skywalker0809 @whytheylosttheirminds @starkeysprincess @rafeyscurtainbangs @cameronsprincess @itneverendshere @zya8tracks @httpsdrewstarkey @angelicameron @littlelamy @kieeslove @snowtargaryen @nemesyaaa @etheraltides @cooper8224 @hockeybabe87 @xdaughterofpersephonex @leather-n-velvet @mima116 @urbrunettebombshell @pogueprincesa @purplerose291 @frankoceanluvr11 @ivysprophecy @starsmoonn @akobx @rafestify @drwstarkeys

[rafesbabygirlx]

Would you like if I posted my 6 Days of Christmas for Rafe and Drew and Baseballplayer!Rafe SMAU together???

I was going to hold off on the smau and let my Christmas stories shine but I’m having serious withdrawals from it rn 😭

Some tags for thoughts- @maybankslover @rafestoothbrush @percysley @siredbtches @bigenergy777 @rafegf-real @whytheylosttheirminds @cameronsprincess @httpsdrewstarkey @angelicameron @littlelamy @kieeslove @frankoceanluvr11 @ivysprophecy @zya8tracks

[rafesbabygirlx]

Me reading this…

I in fact did love this 🥵🥲

ᰔᩚ Day Three of Slutmas// Naughty or Nice— R.C

Rafe has to punish you after you act bratty at a Christmas party.

CW: smut! 18+ only! mean!rafe, brat taming, spanking, anal, mirror sex, rafe fishhooks his fingers in your mouth, ends with sweet!rafe.

slutmas masterlist

🎄❤️

“Rafe, ‘m sorry!” You cry out, fighting against the grip he has on your upper arm.

Rafe stops in his tracks, slowly turning to face you. You stop fighting, standing still, swallowing harshly as you meet his darkened over eyes.

“You’re… You’re sorry?! You just— Fuck! Babe, you just fucking embarrassed me! In front of all our friends! Why the fuck did you think it was okay to fucking act out like that? I mean… Jesus, I thought we were past that little bratty act you played when we first met, but I guess you still need to be taught a fucking lesson.”

You open your mouth to speak but Rafe throws his free hand up in the air, letting you know he didn’t want to hear anymore excuses from you. You knew you fucked up, you knew popping off at him and testing at his patience by disobeying him was a mistake, but you were sick of him treating you like a child he could control.

Rafe gets you out to his truck, opening the passenger door and tossing you inside before slamming it shut. The doors lock automatically, and you’re too afraid to attempt escaping. Rafe didn’t scare you, but you knew when he was angry like this, it was best not to push him any further.

The drive back to Tannyhill is uncomfortably silent, and the second you’re in the driveway, your hands grow clammy, shaking as you lace and unlace them together. Rafe throws the truck in park, shutting off the engine and letting out a deep breath. He places both hands on the steering wheel, gripping it so tightly his knuckles turn white as his head hangs between his arms.

“Out.” He demands, not once looking up.

You quickly obey, opening your door and hopping out of the truck. You silently stand outside the car, watching as he gathers himself before he too exits the truck. He rounds the vehicle, reaching you in seconds and gripping your upper arm again, making you cry out from the way his fingers dig into the underside of your arm.

“Rafe! Please… I promise I’ll be-”

Rafe stops at the front door, his keys fisted into his other hand. He grits his teeth, his jaw clenched as he rolls his neck. “Just… Stop fucking talking, alright? You’ve said and done enough.”

Quickly unlocking the door, he tosses you past the threshold, slamming it shut behind him. He turns to face you, his pretty eyes darkened over, his anger evident in the way his nostrils flare and his jaw ticks. He lets out a slow, calm breath. “Upstairs. Now.” He demands, and the tone of his voice leaves no room for arguing.

You slowly let your head fall, playing with your fingers as you silently make your way up the stairs. Rafe’s heavy breathing can be heard behind you, followed by the loud thump of his feet hitting the stairs with each step he takes. You reach your bedroom door, your sweaty palm reaching out and grasping the handle.

Swallowing the knot in your throat you push the door open, making your way into the dark bedroom and slowly stripping yourself of your dress— the least you could do is make this easier, the less Rafe has to ask of you, the better.

Rafe strolls in behind you, leaving the door wide open as he makes his way toward you. He wraps his arms around your waist, his ringed fingers splaying against your stomach, sending a chill through your body. He buries his face in your neck, inhaling your scent as he runs his nose up the length of your neck. “Such a good girl, already stripped f’me…” He runs his hands up your sides, reaching your chest and cupping at your breasts harshly, pulling a sharp breath from you. “Unfortunately for you, that’s not enough. You embarrassed me, baby… You showed your ass and acted like a fuckin’ brat tonight… So… You know what I have to do.”

You softly nod your head. “I know… ‘M sorry Ra- ahh!”

Your words die, a scream escaping you when he grips your upper arm, his grip bruising as he digs his fingers into your skin. He drags you across the room, forcing you to stop in front of the dresser that sits against the back wall of the room, a large mirror sat on top of it. He pushes you forward, forcing your body to bend over the cold wood. Your fingers grip at the sides, knuckles turning white from how hard you were holding on.

The sound of fabric ripping has you gasping, Rafe pulling your underwear clean off your body and tossing the shredded fabric onto the floor. Goosebumps line your arms and legs as the cool air in the room hits your soaked core and you press your thighs together. Rafe harshly slaps the backs of your thighs, making your head fall forward, a cry of pain and pleasure falling from your parted lips.

“Open your legs, baby, you know how this works.”

You slowly spread your legs, lowering your face down onto the dresser, the cool surface sending chills through your body. Rafe pushes off the dresser, putting some space between the two of you. You hear him open the closet door, the unmistakable sound of his belt being pulled from a hanger fills your ears. You lift your head, meeting Rafe’s eyes in the reflection. He smirks at you as he wraps the leather belt around his hands, slowly making his way toward you.

He steps behind you, slowly unwrapping the belt from his hand and bringing it down, dragging it across your ass. You suck in a sharp breath, body tensing as he continues to drag the leather belt across your skin. Goosebumps prickle across your arms, opening your mouth to speak but only a shrill scream escapes as Rafe lifts the belt, bringing it down to connect with your skin, a loud crack echoing through the room.

“That’s one. Gonna need you to count each one, baby. If you miss one, we start over.”

Tears fill your eyes and you swallow over the knot clogging your throat, mumbling a weak “Yes sir.”

“Good girl.” Rafe rasps, doubling the belt over and snapping it twice before he runs it over the red, sensitive spot on your ass.

Slap! The leather meets your skin again, on the left side this time, and you allow the tears to spill over. “T-Two..” you choke out.

Rafe continues his actions, slapping the leather belt against your ass before soothingly rubbing at the skin. By the time he’s done, your ass is red, raw and sore. Mascara stains your cheeks and your eyes burn, nostrils clogged from how hard you’d been crying.

Tossing the belt to the ground below, Rafe drops to his knees, his hands softly rubbing at your ass, making you hiss in a breath at the sting of his hands on your sore skin. His tongue darts out, licking at the deep red, welted marks left by his belt, his lips leaving soft kisses on the skin before he mumbles, “Look so perfect with your ass marked by my belt…” He places another soft kiss to your sore skin before he rises to his full height, towering behind you.

He wraps a hand in your hair, pulling your tear and mascara stained face off the dresser and forcing your bloodshot eyes on him through the mirror. “Do you think that was enough punishment, baby?”

You swallow thickly, knowing that he doesn’t believe it was. Rafe really believes in getting his point across, and ten slaps to your ass with his belt isn’t enough, so you slowly shake your head ‘no’.

He smiles widely, his eyes shining as he brings his bottom lip between his teeth. “Right answer, such a good girl, aren’t you baby?”

“Y-Yes… Your good girl, Rafe.” You stutter out, giving him your own weak smile.

Rafe releases your hair, letting your head fall forward. You loosen your hold on the dresser, allowing your muscles to relax for a moment as you listen to him remove his clothes behind you. You force your head up, meeting Rafe’s intense gaze through the reflection of the mirror once more, your eyes flitting down and staring at his long, thick cock.

Rafe smirks at you, spitting into the palm of his right hand before he tightly grips his cock, stroking himself as he slowly walks toward you again. The weight of his body presses into your backside, and you inhale sharply through your nose. Rafe continues to stroke his dick, coating his length with his spit before his left hand makes purchase on your hip.

“Relax, or this’ll hurt more than it needs to, baby.” Rafe rasps, pressing the swollen tip of his dick into your tight hole.

A whimper escapes you when his thick head disappears inside you, a low groan leaving Rafe as he places his right hand on your other hip, keeping you still as he slams his hips forward, burying himself inside you.

“Fuck! Rafe, s-so good! You’re so b-big… It hurts…” You whimper, tears spilling down your cheeks as Rafe keeps his hips flush against your ass. He lets out a low grunt, slowly pulling himself out and slamming forward again. Your hips slam against the dresser with each brutal thrust of Rafe’s hips, choked out sobs escaping you as he pounds himself into your ass.

“Takin’ my cock so good baby, my little slut loves when I fuck her ass doesn’t she? I think that’s why you misbehave…” He trails off, running his hands up your sides until he reaches your face. He hooks his index and middle fingers of both hands into the sides of your mouth, pulling tightly, forcing your mouth wide open and forcing your head up, putting your eyes on his through the mirror. “You misbehave because you love being punished… Don’t you, baby? You love when I shove my cock in this tight little ass, you love your ass being spanked raw.”

You try and choke out a response, but the way Rafe’s fingers were hooking into your mouth only had drool running down the sides of your lips. Rafe chuckled darkly, “Awww poor thing, can’t even fucking talk when I got you fish hooked like this. Turned you into a babbling, drooling mess.”

Rafe smirks, a low groan escaping him when he feels your tight ass squeezing at his dick. He pulls his right hand from your mouth, spitting down into his palm and landing a harsh slap against your sensitive skin before he begins pistoning his hips at a brutal pace, the lewd sounds of skin slapping skin bouncing off your bedroom walls.

“That’s it… That’s my girl, I feel your ass squeezing my cock… You gonna cum f’me? You gonna cum just from having your ass fucked, baby?”

More hot tears spill down your cheeks, your mind hazy as you slowly nod your head the best you can. You feel your pussy clenching around nothing while your ass tightens around Rafe’s cock. His thrusts become choppy, hips stuttering as his dick swells inside your ass. You cry out his name as a warm feeling takes over your body. You cum harder than you think you ever have before, and Rafe’s right behind you, dropping his left hand from your mouth and burying his face into the crook of your neck. His teeth sink into your shoulder as he cums inside your ass in long, slow spurts.

Once he comes down from his high, he’s kissing softly at your shoulder, kissing over the teeth marks he’d left in your smooth skin. He slowly pulls his cock from your ass, gently peeling your fingers off the sides of the dresser and lifting you into his arms. He carries you into the bathroom, placing a loving kiss on the top of your head as he whispers, “You know I love you, right? Please don’t make me have to do that again anytime soon… I hate hurting you.”

🎄❤️

tagging some moots: @nemesyaaa @rafeyscurtainbangs @starkeysbabygirl @rafesthroatbaby @starkeysprincess @oceandriveab @rafesbabygirlx @littlelamy @httpsdrewstarkey @drewsephrry @cameronwillow @bloodibambiidoll

[rafesbabygirlx]

Day 1 ♥️

Drew fic tomorrow 👀

6 𝑫𝒂𝒚𝒔 𝒐𝒇 𝑪𝒉𝒓𝒊𝒔𝒕𝒎𝒂𝒔 🎄 𝑹𝒂𝒇𝒆 𝑪𝒂𝒎𝒆𝒓𝒐𝒏

𝙳𝚊𝚢 1 - 𝙽𝚊𝚞𝚐𝚑𝚝𝚢 𝙻𝚒𝚜𝚝 - 𝚂𝚞𝚋!𝚁𝚊𝚏𝚎 𝚡 𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛

𝚂𝚞𝚖𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚢: 𝚁𝚊𝚏𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚐𝚎𝚝 𝚊𝚠𝚊𝚢 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚋𝚎𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚘𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚗𝚊𝚞𝚐𝚑𝚝𝚢 𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝, 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞’𝚛𝚎 𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚖𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚜𝚞𝚛𝚎 𝚑𝚎 𝚙𝚊𝚢𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚙𝚛𝚒𝚌𝚎. 𝙸𝚗 𝚊 𝚗𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚏𝚒𝚕𝚕𝚎𝚍 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚝𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚜𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚢𝚏𝚞𝚕 𝚙𝚘𝚠𝚎𝚛 𝚜𝚑𝚒𝚏𝚝𝚜, 𝚢𝚘𝚞’𝚕𝚕 𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚠 𝚑𝚒𝚖 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚋𝚎𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚋𝚊𝚍 𝚌𝚊𝚗 𝚋𝚎 𝚒𝚝𝚜 𝚘𝚠𝚗 𝚛𝚎𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚍.

𝚆𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜: 𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚌𝚞𝚏𝚏 𝚞𝚜𝚎, 𝚠𝚑𝚒𝚙 𝚞𝚜𝚎, 𝚜𝚖𝚞𝚝, 𝚏𝚊𝚌𝚎 𝚛𝚒𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚛𝚒𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚜𝚞𝚋 𝚁𝚊𝚏𝚎

𝙼𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝

Rafe leaned against his kitchen counter, scrolling idly on his phone, when a firm knock echoed through his apartment. Curious, he swung the door open—and froze.  

There you stood, framed in the doorway, a vision in a sleek, velvet Santa corset that hugged your figure, paired with thigh-high boots that clicked confidently against the floor as you stepped inside. A playful smirk curled your lips, and over your shoulder, you carried a crimson sack adorned with jingling bells.  

“Well, well,” you said, your voice dripping with amusement. “Rafe Cameron. You’ve been very bad this year.”  

He leaned against the doorframe, crossing his arms with a grin. “Bad? Me? You must have the wrong guy.”  

“Nice try.” You pulled a scroll from the sack and unrolled it dramatically. “Let’s see here—late-night pranks, stealing the last slice of cake, and oh, this one’s my favorite: orchestrating the mistletoe ambush. Sound familiar?”  

His grin widened. “So, what happens now? You write a strongly worded letter to Santa?”  

“No.” You took a deliberate step closer, pulling a pair of fuzzy red handcuffs from the sack. “I’m here to make sure you get what you deserve.”  

Before he could protest, you snapped the cuffs around his wrists, tugging them gently behind his back. Rafe let out a low laugh, the sound reverberating in the quiet room.  

“This is adorable,” he teased. “You think you’re in charge now?”  

“Oh, I know I am.” Reaching into the sack again, you retrieved a peppermint-scented whip. The faint aroma filled the air as you traced the leather lightly over his chest, your gaze locking with his.  

His smirk faltered, just for a moment, before returning. “And what’s next? You interrogate me with Christmas carols?”  

You leaned in, your voice a sultry whisper. “Only if you don’t behave.”  

The tension crackled between you like the fire burning in the hearth behind him. The soft pop and hiss of the flames provided the perfect soundtrack to your game. The cool peppermint oil you dabbed onto your fingertips sent shivers through him as you traced it along his collarbone, the sharp scent mingling with the warm notes of pine and cinnamon from the room.  

“Explain your misdeeds, Rafe,” you said, your lips brushing against his ear. “And maybe, just maybe, I’ll go easy on you.”  

His voice was low, filled with challenge. “What if I have no regrets?”  

You laughed softly, shaking your head as you leaned in closer. “Then I guess we’ll have to keep going until you do.”  

Before he could respond, you captured his lips in a searing kiss. His hands flexed against the cuffs, testing the restraints, but they held firm. When the kiss broke, his gaze was darker, his smirk more dangerous.  

“This is cute,” he said, his voice a low rumble. “But let’s see how long you can hold the upper hand.”  

“Oh, Rafe,” you replied, brushing the whip lightly across his shoulder. “You’re not in a position to make demands.”  

Rafe leaned harder against the counter, his blue eyes narrowing as a slow, amused smirk tugged at the corner of his lips. The glint of challenge in his gaze told you he wasn’t about to let you win that easily, even with his hands restrained.  

“You’ve got my attention,” he said, voice smooth and teasing as he leaned his weight back, testing the cuffs just enough to make the chain jingle softly. “But you’re playing a dangerous game, sweetheart.”  

You tilted your head, feigning innocence as you traced the handle of the peppermint-scented whip up the center of his chest, watching his shoulders tense beneath his thin t-shirt. “Dangerous? I thought I was just spreading some Christmas cheer,” you replied, your voice syrupy and sweet.  

“That’s what we’re calling this now?” Rafe shot back, his cocky grin still firmly in place, though his breathing had deepened just slightly under your careful ministrations. “You breaking into my apartment in a—” his eyes swept over your velvet corset and thigh-high boots, lingering longer than necessary, “—festive little number and slapping cuffs on me? Santa would not approve.”  

“Santa doesn’t need to know what I do, I’m here to make sure those on the naughty list are punished” you murmured, leaning in close until your lips hovered just a breath away from his. The scent of peppermint oil still lingered in the air, sharp and intoxicating, and you could practically feel the heat radiating from him. “Besides,” you continued, your voice dropping to a sultry whisper, “Santa‘a not in charge of this particular bad boy. I am.”  

Rafe exhaled a soft laugh, though his voice was lower now, tinged with something heavier. “That right? I’d be careful if I were you. Bad boys bite back.”  

“Oh, I’m counting on it.”  

The whip trailed lower, grazing just above the waistband of his jeans. Rafe shifted, his muscles flexing beneath the taut fabric of his shirt as he regarded you with a look that was equal parts playful and dark. There was something addicting about the way he stared at you—challenging you to keep going, daring you to see just how far you’d push him.  

“You’re enjoying this way too much,” he muttered, but the amused edge in his voice betrayed him.  

“Maybe I am,” you purred, brushing your lips along his jawline before pulling back with a playful grin. “But that’s not your concern, is it? You’re supposed to be reflecting on all those things I listed.”  

Rafe cocked a brow, lips curling into a devilish smirk as he tilted his head slightly. “Let’s see… the cake was worth it, the pranks were legendary, and the mistletoe ambush? You didn’t seem to mind that one.”  

Your laugh rang out as you gave him a teasing swat with the whip across his thigh—just enough to make him tense but not enough to wipe the grin from his face. “Careful, Cameron. You’re not exactly pleading your case here.”  

He rolled his shoulders, pushing off the counter slightly despite the restraints. “Maybe I don’t want to plead. Maybe I’m more interested in what happens next.”  

You stared him down for a beat, the heat in the room thickening like the glow of the fire crackling in the hearth in the living room. It was a dance—the way he pushed, the way you pulled back just enough to keep him guessing. Slowly, you unhooked the whip from where it hung on your fingers, letting it drop to the floor with a faint thud.  

“Then I guess we skip the misdeeds, for now,” you murmured, stepping closer until you were chest to chest, your fingers sliding under the edge of his shirt to trace the firm lines of his stomach. Rafe inhaled sharply, his gaze flickering to yours, darker now. “But if you don’t behave,” you added softly, tugging on the cuff chain just enough to remind him of his position, “I’ll have to find another way to punish you.”  

His smile widened, though there was a hint of challenge in his tone as he replied, “You really think you can handle me?”  

“Oh, I know I can.” You leaned in, pressing a lingering kiss to the corner of his mouth before pulling back with a smirk of your own. “Now be a good boy, Rafe.”  

For the first time, Rafe didn’t have a comeback. His eyes followed you as you stepped back with a slow, deliberate confidence, the bells on your crimson sack jingling softly with every movement. The air between you buzzed like a live wire, a tension thick enough to taste.  

“Game on,” he muttered under his breath, more to himself than to you, as you disappeared around the corner.  

Rafe tilted his head back, letting out a low chuckle that echoed in the otherwise quiet kitchen, his pulse still racing. If you thought you’d won this round, you were in for a surprise—Rafe Cameron didn’t go down without a fight. 

You stride back into the kitchen, the soft jingle of bells you untied from the sack now around your boots the only sound in the room. Rafe's gaze snaps to you, and his expression shifts from smug confidence to stunned silence. His mouth parts slightly as his eyes rake over you, taking in every inch of your bare form save for the thigh-high boots that click against the floor. You hold his stare, the whip dangling loosely from your fingers, having picked it back up, exuding power with every deliberate step.  

You move him from the counter, taking his place. Without breaking eye contact, you lift the whip, running the tassels slowly, seductively, down your body. The teasing motion makes his breath hitch, his jaw tightening as he fights to maintain composure. When the whip trails lower, the tip grazing over your clit, your soft moans echo in the silence, sending him over the edge. Rafe instinctively moves closer, his desire unrestrained.  

“Uh-uh,” you chide, your voice sharp yet laced with amusement. The crack of the whip against his thigh is quick, precise, and commanding, earning a low grunt from him. “You don’t move unless I say so.”  

He retreats slightly, his defiance flickering as he clenches his fists, but you’re not about to let him off that easily. In one fluid motion, you grab his arm, pulling him toward you with force that surprises him, motioning him to his knees before you.  

“Simon says,” you purr, tilting his chin upward with the handle of the whip, your smirk wicked and daring. “Tongue out.”  

His compliance is immediate, his lips parting as his tongue slips out in obedient surrender, his gaze locked on yours, blazing with a mix of challenge and submission. The tension crackles between you, and you savor the control, knowing you’ve completely unraveled him. Rafe's breathing grows heavier as he kneels before you, his gaze locked on yours, dark and smoldering. The tension in the air is palpable.

"Good boy," you purr, running the whip’s tassels across his face, letting them linger just long enough to tease. His eyes are still on you, blazing with a mixture of defiance and submission, a combination that only fuels the fire building in your core.

You lean forward slightly, still perched on the counter, your movements slow and deliberate as you trace his jawline with the tip of your finger. “See? You can behave when you want to,” you murmur, a wicked grin tugging at your lips.

Rafe’s hands flex behind his back, his muscles straining against the temptation to reach for you. He’s teetering on the edge of control, and you can see it in the way his chest rises and falls, in the way his tongue stays perfectly still, waiting for your command.

“You like being told what to do, don’t you?” you ask, tilting your head as you slide the whip’s handle under his chin, lifting his face slightly. His response is a low, guttural sound that sends a shiver down your spine.

“Words, Rafe,” you chide, your voice dripping with authority.

His tongue retracts just enough to let him speak. “Only when it’s you,” he rasps, his voice thick with desire.

The admission makes your heart race, but you keep your composure, leaning back against the counter with an air of confidence. “Smart answer,” you reply, your tone light but edged with satisfaction. “Maybe you deserve a reward.”

Rafe’s eyes flicker with hope, his body tensing in anticipation, but you’re not about to make it that easy for him. You lean forward, your voice a sultry whisper as you say, “Simon says… don’t move a muscle.”

He stays perfectly still, sticking his tongue back out. His obedience is both surprising and intoxicating. You trace the whip’s tassels down his chest, letting them skim over his abdomen before pulling them back up with a sharp flick. The motion draws a low growl from him, his restraint beginning to crack under your control.

“Sweet boy,” you praise again, watching the way his pupils dilate at the words. You lean down until your lips are just inches from his ear and add, “But don’t think for a second you’re in charge tonight.”

Rafe’s response is a slow, deliberate grin, his eyes dark with unspoken promises that send a shiver down your spine. Without hesitation, you step closer, tangling your fingers in his hair and tugging firmly, guiding his head toward you. His lips part, his breath warm against your skin as you lower yourself onto his face, and in an instant, you lay your pussy on his flattened tongue, feeling it as it explores every inch of you.

The initial contact makes your body jolt, your movements instinctively faltering as a rush of pleasure courses through you. You feel the curve of a smile form on his face, the subtle vibration of his amusement only heightening the sensation.  

“You enjoying this as much as I am?” you ask breathlessly, your gaze meeting his smoldering eyes. He nods slightly in response, the motion teasing you further as he doubles down on his efforts.  

Your rhythm builds, each grind of your hips sending waves of heat through you. “Flick your tongue, baby,” you command, your voice cracking with need. The instant he complies, the tip of his tongue swirling at your entrance, a loud moan escapes your lips. You feel the wetness dripping down, slickening his cheeks and chin as he moans into you, the vibrations pushing you closer to the edge.  

You brace yourself against the counter, your knuckles turning white as you struggle to maintain control. But Rafe knows exactly what he’s doing—each flick, swirl, and shift of his tongue driving you higher, faster. The fire in your stomach burns fiercely, igniting with an intensity you can’t suppress. Slowing your movements, you try to hold on a moment longer, grinding against him in a desperate attempt to draw out the pleasure. You’re supposed to be in control. You can't give in that easily.   

Then, he shifts his head just slightly, hitting the perfect spot and his nose rocking against your clit, your resolve crumbles. A shudder wracks through you as your pace quickens involuntarily, your climax crashing over you with devastating force. You cry out, gripping the counter to steady yourself as waves of pleasure leave you trembling in his grasp.  

As the aftershocks ripple through you, you try to lift yourself away, but the hunger in his eyes stops you. You move back down slightly, his mouth resuming its work as he laps up every last trace of your release. You melt under his touch, the world narrowing to the warmth of his lips and the unrelenting focus in his gaze. He knows how to get you even when you don’t want him too.  

You help him up to his feet, moving to the living room and unlocking the cuffs. “Get naked, baby.” 

He complies without hesitation, his hands moving swiftly to shed his clothing until every barrier between you is gone. His body is a masterpiece in the soft glow of the dimly lit room, each line and curve illuminated like a work of art. Yet his focus remains entirely on you, his piercing gaze locked with yours, a mix of obedience and raw anticipation evident in his posture as he stands still, awaiting your command.  

With a smirk, you step toward him, the clink of the cuffs in your hand drawing his attention. “Hands,” you instruct, your voice soft but firm. He raises them obediently, and you secure the cuffs around his wrists, this time in front of him. His lips twitch upward in subtle recognition of the shift—knowing you’re granting him just enough freedom for what you have planned.  

You guide him to the couch, pushing him gently until he sinks down onto the cushions, the plush fabric contrasting with the tension in his body. He looks up at you, eyes dark with want, but he doesn’t move, his cuffed hands resting in his lap, waiting for permission.  

“Good boy,” you murmur, straddling his waist, your thighs framing his hips as you settle into his lap. His sharp intake of breath at the contact sends a thrill through you, his skin warm against yours. He goes to brush his fingers along your stomach. 

You push his hands down and  lean in close, brushing your lips over his ear as you whisper, “I’m in control, Rafe, remember? You don’t touch unless I say. Understood?”  

“Yes,” he replies, his voice low and husky, the word almost a growl.  

Satisfied, you trail your hands down his chest, your nails grazing lightly against his skin, earning a sharp inhale from him. His restrained hands twitch, but he doesn’t lift them, his compliance making you grin. You grind your hips slowly up and down his length, teasing him as your bodies connect, the friction igniting a fire between you.  

“You’re doing so well,” you purr, placing your hands on his shoulders for balance as you continue to move. His jaw tightens, his head tipping back slightly, exposing the curve of his throat as he fights the urge to take control.  

Leaning back, you meet his gaze, your movements deliberate and tantalizingly slow. “Tell me what you want, Rafe,” you tease, your voice laced with mock innocence.  

“You,” he rasps, his voice strained. “I want all of you.”  

You smile wickedly, leaning in so close that your breath mingles with his, the tension crackling between you. His eyes dart to your lips just before you nip at his bottom lip, eliciting a low growl from deep in his chest. You pull back just enough to meet his darkened gaze, a teasing smirk playing on your lips.  

“Then you’re going to have to earn it,” you purr, your voice dripping with challenge, each word deliberate and tantalizing.  

Rafe’s jaw tightens, his lips parting slightly as if to respond, but you cut him off with a finger pressed lightly against his mouth. “No talking. Just listening,” you command softly, your eyes glinting with authority.  

He nods, his compliance stirring something primal in you. Moving with purpose, you take his cuffed wrists in your hands, guiding them up to rest on the back of the couch. His muscles flex under your touch, but he holds steady, his breaths coming heavier as you climb onto his lap, straddling his waist.  

“Good boy,” you murmur, leaning forward to trail your lips along the sharp edge of his jawline. He shudders beneath you, his body instinctively leaning into yours. 

You reach out, running your hands down his chest, feeling every taut line of his torso. “You want to touch me, don’t you?” you ask, your voice a teasing whisper against his ear.  

“Yes,” he replies, his voice rough, barely above a growl.  

You sit up, breaking contact with him, scratching your nails lightly on his neck, watching the way his body responds, the way he moves into your touch, the way his hips shift beneath you trying to feel you again. “Not yet,” you say firmly, smirking at the soft groan of frustration he lets out.  

“I’m starting to think you enjoy torturing me,” he says, his voice low and filled with a mix of amusement and desperation.  

You laugh softly, your hands sliding down his arms until your fingers meet his cuffed wrists. “It’s not torture,” you reply, leaning closer so your lips are just a breath away from his. “It’s discipline.”  

Before he can reply, you press your lips to his, your body pressing firmly against his. His hands flex in the cuffs, desperate to touch you, but you keep him in place, controlling every movement, every sensation.  

You lean into him, lips ghosting over his cheek and then trailing a path down his neck. His scent, musky and intoxicating, fills your senses as your fingers continue their feigned innocence, brushing “accidentally” over his length. Each fleeting touch makes him flinch, his body tensing beneath you. His breathing is ragged now, his chest rising and falling as he struggles to maintain control.  

“Do you want it, baby?” you whisper into his ear, your voice smooth and dripping with seduction.  

“Yes,” Rafe replies immediately, the desperation in his voice making you smile.  

“How bad?” you purr, pulling back just enough to see his flushed face.  

“Bad,” he groans, his voice thick and raw with need.  

You tilt your head, pretending to consider. “Hm, you’ve got to convince me, sweet boy.”  

He breaks. “I need you so fucking bad,” he blurts out, his voice cracking as tears well in his eyes. “I need you to sit on my cock and fuck the shit out of me already. It hurts—I fucking need you.” The words tumble out of him, uninhibited, his desperation painted clearly on his face as a single tear escapes and slides down his cheek.  

Your heart clenches at the sight, and you soften for just a moment, cupping his face in your hands. Gently, you wipe away his tears with your thumbs, your gaze locking with his. “Okay, okay,” you soothe, your voice a mix of teasing and genuine affection. “I’ll give you what you need.”  

His eyes burn with gratitude and unrestrained hunger as you move back closer to him, your boots jingling softly with every move. The sound only heightens the tension, each chime a reminder of the game you’ve played all night. You pull him to sit back up, your body pressing against his in all the right ways.  

Without wasting another second, you position yourself, taking hold of his length and guiding him to your entrance. Slowly, deliberately, you sink down onto him, a gasp escaping your lips as he fills you completely. Rafe throws his head back, a guttural groan escaping his throat as his hands, still cuffed, flex uselessly in front of him.  

You pause for a moment, adjusting, letting the sensation of him inside you consume you. His eyes find yours, a mix of awe and raw need etched across his face. Then, with a wicked grin, you lift yourself and slam back down, earning a deep moan from him that reverberates through the room.  

“Fuck, you feel so good,” he growls, his voice rough with pleasure.  

You don’t respond, too focused on your movements. Rising and falling, you set a relentless rhythm, the bells on your boots creating a hypnotic jingle with each bounce. Your hands grip his shoulders for balance, and when that’s not enough, you reach for his neck, steadying yourself as you ride him harder, faster.  

Rafe’s hips buck beneath you, trying to meet your movements, but the cuffs keep him from taking control. “You’re killing me, baby,” he groans, his voice strained.  

“You’re mine tonight,” you breathe, leaning forward so your lips are just a whisper away from his. “And you don’t do anything unless I let you.”  

The tension between you builds, each thrust sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body. Your nails dig into his neck as you throw your head back, moaning his name. The sounds of your passion fill the room, blending with the soft chime of the bells and the steady rhythm of your bodies moving together.  

Rafe’s eyes never leave you, his gaze full of adoration and desperation. “Please, baby,” he murmurs, his voice breaking. “Let me—”  

“Not yet,” you cut him off, your movements only growing more determined. “You’ll take it until I say you’ve had enough.”

You feel the fire in your core intensifying, each thrust bringing you closer to the edge. The look in Rafe’s eyes—pure, unadulterated lust mixed with helpless devotion—only adds fuel to the fire. His chest heaves beneath you, his muscles taut as he strains against the cuffs, desperate to touch you, to take control, but completely at your mercy.  

“Fuck, you’re so big baby,” you gasp, your voice shaky as the pleasure overtakes you. Your hands grip his neck tighter for balance as your rhythm grows erratic, each bounce sending shockwaves through your body.  

Rafe groans deeply, his head falling back against the couch as his hips try to meet your movements. “You’re gonna kill me, baby,” he growls, his voice thick with need. “Let me touch you—please, I can’t—”  

“No,” you pant, cutting him off as you lean forward, your lips brushing against his ear. “This is about me and you trying to get yourself on my nice list.”  

The heat in your body reaches its peak, your movements becoming frenzied as you chase the release building within you. But it’s not enough—you need more. You slow just slightly and meet Rafe’s eyes, your breath hitching as you command, “Rub my clit, Rafe. Now.”  

His eyes widen, and a flicker of relief crosses his face as you guide his cuffed hands to your center. The moment his fingers connect with you, you shiver, his touch electric against your sensitive skin. He moves in slow, deliberate circles, the pressure perfect, and your body responds instantly.  

“Just like that,” you moan, your head falling back as your hips grind against his hand. The combined sensation of his cock inside you and his fingers expertly working your clit pushes you dangerously close to the edge.  

“Oh, fuck,” you cry out, your voice trembling as the fire in your stomach ignites into a full-blown inferno. Your walls clench around him, your body trembling as wave after wave of pleasure crashes over you. Your moans fill the room, loud and unabashed, your nails digging into his shoulders as you ride out the high.  

Rafe watches you, completely mesmerized, his own control hanging by a thread. The way your body moves, the way your face twists in pleasure—it’s enough to drive him insane.  

“God, you’re so fucking perfect,” he groans, his voice low and raw. “Fuck, I’m gonna cum.”

You slow down your movements, still riding out your high but preventing him from his. One last form of dominance as you drag out his pleasure. Grinding down onto him is painful movements.

“I need you to move,” he pleads.

“Tell me why you deserve a reward?” You giggle, mocking him slightly.

“Fuck- I’ll be so good to you. You can have all the pieces of cake. No more scaring you before bed. Do whatever you fucking want to me, just let me fucking come!” Tears form in his eyes again.

As you come down from your high, your body still shaking slightly, you glance down at him with a wicked grin. “You’ve convinced me, you’ve been so good, baby,” you murmur, leaning forward to press a soft kiss to his lips. “Now it’s your turn.”  

His eyes darken with hunger, and he lets out a relieved moan as you start moving again. This time, it’s for him, your hips rolling in a way that has him trembling beneath you.  

“Fuck, I’m so close,” he groans, his voice breaking as his hips jerk uncontrollably.  

“Come for me, Rafe,” you whisper, your voice soft but commanding. “I want to feel you lose control.”  

That’s all it takes. His head falls back, his mouth opening in a silent cry as he reaches his peak. His body tenses, his hips bucking up into you as he spills inside you, the cuffs clinking faintly as his hands flex uselessly.  

You slow your movements again, guiding him through his release, your hands moving to cup his face. His eyes flutter open, meeting yours with a look of pure adoration and exhaustion.  

“Fuck,” he breathes, a shaky laugh escaping his lips. “You’re unreal.”  

You smile softly, brushing a damp strand of hair from his forehead. “I told you, Rafe. You don’t get anything unless I say so.”  

“Then remind me to never get on your bad side,” he chuckles, his voice still thick with satisfaction.  

“I think you liked it though,” you reply through a smirk.

You press a gentle kiss to his lips, the intensity of the moment giving way to something softer. You unlock the cuffs for a final time and you both savor the quiet aftermath, your bodies tangled together on the couch, the only light coming from his small Christmas tree in the corner of his living room.

Tags- @maybankslover @eringaitskill @luissa266 @lolll505 @dayyzlol @calaryssia @eg-dr3amer3 @hotch-meeeeeuppppp @rafestar @writtenbyhollywood @leilanizcals @rafestoothbrush @weluvwbb @itsforeverandalwayz @butterfly-ibuki @percysley @siredbtches @bigenergy777 @aupernatural-teenwolflover @slut4you @rafegf-real @skywalker0809 @whytheylosttheirminds @starkeysprincess @rafeyscurtainbangs @cameronsprincess @itneverendshere @zya8tracks @httpsdrewstarkey @angelicameron @littlelamy @kieeslove @snowtargaryen @nemesyaaa @etheraltides @starkeysprincess @cooper8224 @hockeybabe87 @rafeyscurtainbangs @rafescokewhore @drewsephrry @rafeswif3

[rafesbabygirlx]

Starting off strong 🤭

6 𝑫𝒂𝒚𝒔 𝒐𝒇 𝑪𝒉𝒓𝒊𝒔𝒕𝒎𝒂𝒔 🎄 𝑹𝒂𝒇𝒆 𝑪𝒂𝒎𝒆𝒓𝒐𝒏

𝙳𝚊𝚢 1 - 𝙽𝚊𝚞𝚐𝚑𝚝𝚢 𝙻𝚒𝚜𝚝 - 𝚂𝚞𝚋!𝚁𝚊𝚏𝚎 𝚡 𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛

𝚂𝚞𝚖𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚢: 𝚁𝚊𝚏𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚐𝚎𝚝 𝚊𝚠𝚊𝚢 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚋𝚎𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚘𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚗𝚊𝚞𝚐𝚑𝚝𝚢 𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝, 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞’𝚛𝚎 𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚖𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚜𝚞𝚛𝚎 𝚑𝚎 𝚙𝚊𝚢𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚙𝚛𝚒𝚌𝚎. 𝙸𝚗 𝚊 𝚗𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚏𝚒𝚕𝚕𝚎𝚍 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚝𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚜𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚢𝚏𝚞𝚕 𝚙𝚘𝚠𝚎𝚛 𝚜𝚑𝚒𝚏𝚝𝚜, 𝚢𝚘𝚞’𝚕𝚕 𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚠 𝚑𝚒𝚖 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚋𝚎𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚋𝚊𝚍 𝚌𝚊𝚗 𝚋𝚎 𝚒𝚝𝚜 𝚘𝚠𝚗 𝚛𝚎𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚍.

𝚆𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜: 𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚌𝚞𝚏𝚏 𝚞𝚜𝚎, 𝚠𝚑𝚒𝚙 𝚞𝚜𝚎, 𝚜𝚖𝚞𝚝, 𝚏𝚊𝚌𝚎 𝚛𝚒𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚛𝚒𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚜𝚞𝚋 𝚁𝚊𝚏𝚎

𝙼𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝

Rafe leaned against his kitchen counter, scrolling idly on his phone, when a firm knock echoed through his apartment. Curious, he swung the door open—and froze.  

There you stood, framed in the doorway, a vision in a sleek, velvet Santa corset that hugged your figure, paired with thigh-high boots that clicked confidently against the floor as you stepped inside. A playful smirk curled your lips, and over your shoulder, you carried a crimson sack adorned with jingling bells.  

“Well, well,” you said, your voice dripping with amusement. “Rafe Cameron. You’ve been very bad this year.”  

He leaned against the doorframe, crossing his arms with a grin. “Bad? Me? You must have the wrong guy.”  

“Nice try.” You pulled a scroll from the sack and unrolled it dramatically. “Let’s see here—late-night pranks, stealing the last slice of cake, and oh, this one’s my favorite: orchestrating the mistletoe ambush. Sound familiar?”  

His grin widened. “So, what happens now? You write a strongly worded letter to Santa?”  

“No.” You took a deliberate step closer, pulling a pair of fuzzy red handcuffs from the sack. “I’m here to make sure you get what you deserve.”  

Before he could protest, you snapped the cuffs around his wrists, tugging them gently behind his back. Rafe let out a low laugh, the sound reverberating in the quiet room.  

“This is adorable,” he teased. “You think you’re in charge now?”  

“Oh, I know I am.” Reaching into the sack again, you retrieved a peppermint-scented whip. The faint aroma filled the air as you traced the leather lightly over his chest, your gaze locking with his.  

His smirk faltered, just for a moment, before returning. “And what’s next? You interrogate me with Christmas carols?”  

You leaned in, your voice a sultry whisper. “Only if you don’t behave.”  

The tension crackled between you like the fire burning in the hearth behind him. The soft pop and hiss of the flames provided the perfect soundtrack to your game. The cool peppermint oil you dabbed onto your fingertips sent shivers through him as you traced it along his collarbone, the sharp scent mingling with the warm notes of pine and cinnamon from the room.  

“Explain your misdeeds, Rafe,” you said, your lips brushing against his ear. “And maybe, just maybe, I’ll go easy on you.”  

His voice was low, filled with challenge. “What if I have no regrets?”  

You laughed softly, shaking your head as you leaned in closer. “Then I guess we’ll have to keep going until you do.”  

Before he could respond, you captured his lips in a searing kiss. His hands flexed against the cuffs, testing the restraints, but they held firm. When the kiss broke, his gaze was darker, his smirk more dangerous.  

“This is cute,” he said, his voice a low rumble. “But let’s see how long you can hold the upper hand.”  

“Oh, Rafe,” you replied, brushing the whip lightly across his shoulder. “You’re not in a position to make demands.”  

Rafe leaned harder against the counter, his blue eyes narrowing as a slow, amused smirk tugged at the corner of his lips. The glint of challenge in his gaze told you he wasn’t about to let you win that easily, even with his hands restrained.  

“You’ve got my attention,” he said, voice smooth and teasing as he leaned his weight back, testing the cuffs just enough to make the chain jingle softly. “But you’re playing a dangerous game, sweetheart.”  

You tilted your head, feigning innocence as you traced the handle of the peppermint-scented whip up the center of his chest, watching his shoulders tense beneath his thin t-shirt. “Dangerous? I thought I was just spreading some Christmas cheer,” you replied, your voice syrupy and sweet.  

“That’s what we’re calling this now?” Rafe shot back, his cocky grin still firmly in place, though his breathing had deepened just slightly under your careful ministrations. “You breaking into my apartment in a—” his eyes swept over your velvet corset and thigh-high boots, lingering longer than necessary, “—festive little number and slapping cuffs on me? Santa would not approve.”  

“Santa doesn’t need to know what I do, I’m here to make sure those on the naughty list are punished” you murmured, leaning in close until your lips hovered just a breath away from his. The scent of peppermint oil still lingered in the air, sharp and intoxicating, and you could practically feel the heat radiating from him. “Besides,” you continued, your voice dropping to a sultry whisper, “Santa‘a not in charge of this particular bad boy. I am.”  

Rafe exhaled a soft laugh, though his voice was lower now, tinged with something heavier. “That right? I’d be careful if I were you. Bad boys bite back.”  

“Oh, I’m counting on it.”  

The whip trailed lower, grazing just above the waistband of his jeans. Rafe shifted, his muscles flexing beneath the taut fabric of his shirt as he regarded you with a look that was equal parts playful and dark. There was something addicting about the way he stared at you—challenging you to keep going, daring you to see just how far you’d push him.  

“You’re enjoying this way too much,” he muttered, but the amused edge in his voice betrayed him.  

“Maybe I am,” you purred, brushing your lips along his jawline before pulling back with a playful grin. “But that’s not your concern, is it? You’re supposed to be reflecting on all those things I listed.”  

Rafe cocked a brow, lips curling into a devilish smirk as he tilted his head slightly. “Let’s see… the cake was worth it, the pranks were legendary, and the mistletoe ambush? You didn’t seem to mind that one.”  

Your laugh rang out as you gave him a teasing swat with the whip across his thigh—just enough to make him tense but not enough to wipe the grin from his face. “Careful, Cameron. You’re not exactly pleading your case here.”  

He rolled his shoulders, pushing off the counter slightly despite the restraints. “Maybe I don’t want to plead. Maybe I’m more interested in what happens next.”  

You stared him down for a beat, the heat in the room thickening like the glow of the fire crackling in the hearth in the living room. It was a dance—the way he pushed, the way you pulled back just enough to keep him guessing. Slowly, you unhooked the whip from where it hung on your fingers, letting it drop to the floor with a faint thud.  

“Then I guess we skip the misdeeds, for now,” you murmured, stepping closer until you were chest to chest, your fingers sliding under the edge of his shirt to trace the firm lines of his stomach. Rafe inhaled sharply, his gaze flickering to yours, darker now. “But if you don’t behave,” you added softly, tugging on the cuff chain just enough to remind him of his position, “I’ll have to find another way to punish you.”  

His smile widened, though there was a hint of challenge in his tone as he replied, “You really think you can handle me?”  

“Oh, I know I can.” You leaned in, pressing a lingering kiss to the corner of his mouth before pulling back with a smirk of your own. “Now be a good boy, Rafe.”  

For the first time, Rafe didn’t have a comeback. His eyes followed you as you stepped back with a slow, deliberate confidence, the bells on your crimson sack jingling softly with every movement. The air between you buzzed like a live wire, a tension thick enough to taste.  

“Game on,” he muttered under his breath, more to himself than to you, as you disappeared around the corner.  

Rafe tilted his head back, letting out a low chuckle that echoed in the otherwise quiet kitchen, his pulse still racing. If you thought you’d won this round, you were in for a surprise—Rafe Cameron didn’t go down without a fight. 

You stride back into the kitchen, the soft jingle of bells you untied from the sack now around your boots the only sound in the room. Rafe's gaze snaps to you, and his expression shifts from smug confidence to stunned silence. His mouth parts slightly as his eyes rake over you, taking in every inch of your bare form save for the thigh-high boots that click against the floor. You hold his stare, the whip dangling loosely from your fingers, having picked it back up, exuding power with every deliberate step.  

You move him from the counter, taking his place. Without breaking eye contact, you lift the whip, running the tassels slowly, seductively, down your body. The teasing motion makes his breath hitch, his jaw tightening as he fights to maintain composure. When the whip trails lower, the tip grazing over your clit, your soft moans echo in the silence, sending him over the edge. Rafe instinctively moves closer, his desire unrestrained.  

“Uh-uh,” you chide, your voice sharp yet laced with amusement. The crack of the whip against his thigh is quick, precise, and commanding, earning a low grunt from him. “You don’t move unless I say so.”  

He retreats slightly, his defiance flickering as he clenches his fists, but you’re not about to let him off that easily. In one fluid motion, you grab his arm, pulling him toward you with force that surprises him, motioning him to his knees before you.  

“Simon says,” you purr, tilting his chin upward with the handle of the whip, your smirk wicked and daring. “Tongue out.”  

His compliance is immediate, his lips parting as his tongue slips out in obedient surrender, his gaze locked on yours, blazing with a mix of challenge and submission. The tension crackles between you, and you savor the control, knowing you’ve completely unraveled him. Rafe's breathing grows heavier as he kneels before you, his gaze locked on yours, dark and smoldering. The tension in the air is palpable.

"Good boy," you purr, running the whip’s tassels across his face, letting them linger just long enough to tease. His eyes are still on you, blazing with a mixture of defiance and submission, a combination that only fuels the fire building in your core.

You lean forward slightly, still perched on the counter, your movements slow and deliberate as you trace his jawline with the tip of your finger. “See? You can behave when you want to,” you murmur, a wicked grin tugging at your lips.

Rafe’s hands flex behind his back, his muscles straining against the temptation to reach for you. He’s teetering on the edge of control, and you can see it in the way his chest rises and falls, in the way his tongue stays perfectly still, waiting for your command.

“You like being told what to do, don’t you?” you ask, tilting your head as you slide the whip’s handle under his chin, lifting his face slightly. His response is a low, guttural sound that sends a shiver down your spine.

“Words, Rafe,” you chide, your voice dripping with authority.

His tongue retracts just enough to let him speak. “Only when it’s you,” he rasps, his voice thick with desire.

The admission makes your heart race, but you keep your composure, leaning back against the counter with an air of confidence. “Smart answer,” you reply, your tone light but edged with satisfaction. “Maybe you deserve a reward.”

Rafe’s eyes flicker with hope, his body tensing in anticipation, but you’re not about to make it that easy for him. You lean forward, your voice a sultry whisper as you say, “Simon says… don’t move a muscle.”

He stays perfectly still, sticking his tongue back out. His obedience is both surprising and intoxicating. You trace the whip’s tassels down his chest, letting them skim over his abdomen before pulling them back up with a sharp flick. The motion draws a low growl from him, his restraint beginning to crack under your control.

“Sweet boy,” you praise again, watching the way his pupils dilate at the words. You lean down until your lips are just inches from his ear and add, “But don’t think for a second you’re in charge tonight.”

Rafe’s response is a slow, deliberate grin, his eyes dark with unspoken promises that send a shiver down your spine. Without hesitation, you step closer, tangling your fingers in his hair and tugging firmly, guiding his head toward you. His lips part, his breath warm against your skin as you lower yourself onto his face, and in an instant, you lay your pussy on his flattened tongue, feeling it as it explores every inch of you.

The initial contact makes your body jolt, your movements instinctively faltering as a rush of pleasure courses through you. You feel the curve of a smile form on his face, the subtle vibration of his amusement only heightening the sensation.  

“You enjoying this as much as I am?” you ask breathlessly, your gaze meeting his smoldering eyes. He nods slightly in response, the motion teasing you further as he doubles down on his efforts.  

Your rhythm builds, each grind of your hips sending waves of heat through you. “Flick your tongue, baby,” you command, your voice cracking with need. The instant he complies, the tip of his tongue swirling at your entrance, a loud moan escapes your lips. You feel the wetness dripping down, slickening his cheeks and chin as he moans into you, the vibrations pushing you closer to the edge.  

You brace yourself against the counter, your knuckles turning white as you struggle to maintain control. But Rafe knows exactly what he’s doing—each flick, swirl, and shift of his tongue driving you higher, faster. The fire in your stomach burns fiercely, igniting with an intensity you can’t suppress. Slowing your movements, you try to hold on a moment longer, grinding against him in a desperate attempt to draw out the pleasure. You’re supposed to be in control. You can't give in that easily.   

Then, he shifts his head just slightly, hitting the perfect spot and his nose rocking against your clit, your resolve crumbles. A shudder wracks through you as your pace quickens involuntarily, your climax crashing over you with devastating force. You cry out, gripping the counter to steady yourself as waves of pleasure leave you trembling in his grasp.  

As the aftershocks ripple through you, you try to lift yourself away, but the hunger in his eyes stops you. You move back down slightly, his mouth resuming its work as he laps up every last trace of your release. You melt under his touch, the world narrowing to the warmth of his lips and the unrelenting focus in his gaze. He knows how to get you even when you don’t want him too.  

You help him up to his feet, moving to the living room and unlocking the cuffs. “Get naked, baby.” 

He complies without hesitation, his hands moving swiftly to shed his clothing until every barrier between you is gone. His body is a masterpiece in the soft glow of the dimly lit room, each line and curve illuminated like a work of art. Yet his focus remains entirely on you, his piercing gaze locked with yours, a mix of obedience and raw anticipation evident in his posture as he stands still, awaiting your command.  

With a smirk, you step toward him, the clink of the cuffs in your hand drawing his attention. “Hands,” you instruct, your voice soft but firm. He raises them obediently, and you secure the cuffs around his wrists, this time in front of him. His lips twitch upward in subtle recognition of the shift—knowing you’re granting him just enough freedom for what you have planned.  

You guide him to the couch, pushing him gently until he sinks down onto the cushions, the plush fabric contrasting with the tension in his body. He looks up at you, eyes dark with want, but he doesn’t move, his cuffed hands resting in his lap, waiting for permission.  

“Good boy,” you murmur, straddling his waist, your thighs framing his hips as you settle into his lap. His sharp intake of breath at the contact sends a thrill through you, his skin warm against yours. He goes to brush his fingers along your stomach. 

You push his hands down and  lean in close, brushing your lips over his ear as you whisper, “I’m in control, Rafe, remember? You don’t touch unless I say. Understood?”  

“Yes,” he replies, his voice low and husky, the word almost a growl.  

Satisfied, you trail your hands down his chest, your nails grazing lightly against his skin, earning a sharp inhale from him. His restrained hands twitch, but he doesn’t lift them, his compliance making you grin. You grind your hips slowly up and down his length, teasing him as your bodies connect, the friction igniting a fire between you.  

“You’re doing so well,” you purr, placing your hands on his shoulders for balance as you continue to move. His jaw tightens, his head tipping back slightly, exposing the curve of his throat as he fights the urge to take control.  

Leaning back, you meet his gaze, your movements deliberate and tantalizingly slow. “Tell me what you want, Rafe,” you tease, your voice laced with mock innocence.  

“You,” he rasps, his voice strained. “I want all of you.”  

You smile wickedly, leaning in so close that your breath mingles with his, the tension crackling between you. His eyes dart to your lips just before you nip at his bottom lip, eliciting a low growl from deep in his chest. You pull back just enough to meet his darkened gaze, a teasing smirk playing on your lips.  

“Then you’re going to have to earn it,” you purr, your voice dripping with challenge, each word deliberate and tantalizing.  

Rafe’s jaw tightens, his lips parting slightly as if to respond, but you cut him off with a finger pressed lightly against his mouth. “No talking. Just listening,” you command softly, your eyes glinting with authority.  

He nods, his compliance stirring something primal in you. Moving with purpose, you take his cuffed wrists in your hands, guiding them up to rest on the back of the couch. His muscles flex under your touch, but he holds steady, his breaths coming heavier as you climb onto his lap, straddling his waist.  

“Good boy,” you murmur, leaning forward to trail your lips along the sharp edge of his jawline. He shudders beneath you, his body instinctively leaning into yours. 

You reach out, running your hands down his chest, feeling every taut line of his torso. “You want to touch me, don’t you?” you ask, your voice a teasing whisper against his ear.  

“Yes,” he replies, his voice rough, barely above a growl.  

You sit up, breaking contact with him, scratching your nails lightly on his neck, watching the way his body responds, the way he moves into your touch, the way his hips shift beneath you trying to feel you again. “Not yet,” you say firmly, smirking at the soft groan of frustration he lets out.  

“I’m starting to think you enjoy torturing me,” he says, his voice low and filled with a mix of amusement and desperation.  

You laugh softly, your hands sliding down his arms until your fingers meet his cuffed wrists. “It’s not torture,” you reply, leaning closer so your lips are just a breath away from his. “It’s discipline.”  

Before he can reply, you press your lips to his, your body pressing firmly against his. His hands flex in the cuffs, desperate to touch you, but you keep him in place, controlling every movement, every sensation.  

You lean into him, lips ghosting over his cheek and then trailing a path down his neck. His scent, musky and intoxicating, fills your senses as your fingers continue their feigned innocence, brushing “accidentally” over his length. Each fleeting touch makes him flinch, his body tensing beneath you. His breathing is ragged now, his chest rising and falling as he struggles to maintain control.  

“Do you want it, baby?” you whisper into his ear, your voice smooth and dripping with seduction.  

“Yes,” Rafe replies immediately, the desperation in his voice making you smile.  

“How bad?” you purr, pulling back just enough to see his flushed face.  

“Bad,” he groans, his voice thick and raw with need.  

You tilt your head, pretending to consider. “Hm, you’ve got to convince me, sweet boy.”  

He breaks. “I need you so fucking bad,” he blurts out, his voice cracking as tears well in his eyes. “I need you to sit on my cock and fuck the shit out of me already. It hurts—I fucking need you.” The words tumble out of him, uninhibited, his desperation painted clearly on his face as a single tear escapes and slides down his cheek.  

Your heart clenches at the sight, and you soften for just a moment, cupping his face in your hands. Gently, you wipe away his tears with your thumbs, your gaze locking with his. “Okay, okay,” you soothe, your voice a mix of teasing and genuine affection. “I’ll give you what you need.”  

His eyes burn with gratitude and unrestrained hunger as you move back closer to him, your boots jingling softly with every move. The sound only heightens the tension, each chime a reminder of the game you’ve played all night. You pull him to sit back up, your body pressing against his in all the right ways.  

Without wasting another second, you position yourself, taking hold of his length and guiding him to your entrance. Slowly, deliberately, you sink down onto him, a gasp escaping your lips as he fills you completely. Rafe throws his head back, a guttural groan escaping his throat as his hands, still cuffed, flex uselessly in front of him.  

You pause for a moment, adjusting, letting the sensation of him inside you consume you. His eyes find yours, a mix of awe and raw need etched across his face. Then, with a wicked grin, you lift yourself and slam back down, earning a deep moan from him that reverberates through the room.  

“Fuck, you feel so good,” he growls, his voice rough with pleasure.  

You don’t respond, too focused on your movements. Rising and falling, you set a relentless rhythm, the bells on your boots creating a hypnotic jingle with each bounce. Your hands grip his shoulders for balance, and when that’s not enough, you reach for his neck, steadying yourself as you ride him harder, faster.  

Rafe’s hips buck beneath you, trying to meet your movements, but the cuffs keep him from taking control. “You’re killing me, baby,” he groans, his voice strained.  

“You’re mine tonight,” you breathe, leaning forward so your lips are just a whisper away from his. “And you don’t do anything unless I let you.”  

The tension between you builds, each thrust sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body. Your nails dig into his neck as you throw your head back, moaning his name. The sounds of your passion fill the room, blending with the soft chime of the bells and the steady rhythm of your bodies moving together.  

Rafe’s eyes never leave you, his gaze full of adoration and desperation. “Please, baby,” he murmurs, his voice breaking. “Let me—”  

“Not yet,” you cut him off, your movements only growing more determined. “You’ll take it until I say you’ve had enough.”

You feel the fire in your core intensifying, each thrust bringing you closer to the edge. The look in Rafe’s eyes—pure, unadulterated lust mixed with helpless devotion—only adds fuel to the fire. His chest heaves beneath you, his muscles taut as he strains against the cuffs, desperate to touch you, to take control, but completely at your mercy.  

“Fuck, you’re so big baby,” you gasp, your voice shaky as the pleasure overtakes you. Your hands grip his neck tighter for balance as your rhythm grows erratic, each bounce sending shockwaves through your body.  

Rafe groans deeply, his head falling back against the couch as his hips try to meet your movements. “You’re gonna kill me, baby,” he growls, his voice thick with need. “Let me touch you—please, I can’t—”  

“No,” you pant, cutting him off as you lean forward, your lips brushing against his ear. “This is about me and you trying to get yourself on my nice list.”  

The heat in your body reaches its peak, your movements becoming frenzied as you chase the release building within you. But it’s not enough—you need more. You slow just slightly and meet Rafe’s eyes, your breath hitching as you command, “Rub my clit, Rafe. Now.”  

His eyes widen, and a flicker of relief crosses his face as you guide his cuffed hands to your center. The moment his fingers connect with you, you shiver, his touch electric against your sensitive skin. He moves in slow, deliberate circles, the pressure perfect, and your body responds instantly.  

“Just like that,” you moan, your head falling back as your hips grind against his hand. The combined sensation of his cock inside you and his fingers expertly working your clit pushes you dangerously close to the edge.  

“Oh, fuck,” you cry out, your voice trembling as the fire in your stomach ignites into a full-blown inferno. Your walls clench around him, your body trembling as wave after wave of pleasure crashes over you. Your moans fill the room, loud and unabashed, your nails digging into his shoulders as you ride out the high.  

Rafe watches you, completely mesmerized, his own control hanging by a thread. The way your body moves, the way your face twists in pleasure—it’s enough to drive him insane.  

“God, you’re so fucking perfect,” he groans, his voice low and raw. “Fuck, I’m gonna cum.”

You slow down your movements, still riding out your high but preventing him from his. One last form of dominance as you drag out his pleasure. Grinding down onto him is painful movements.

“I need you to move,” he pleads.

“Tell me why you deserve a reward?” You giggle, mocking him slightly.

“Fuck- I’ll be so good to you. You can have all the pieces of cake. No more scaring you before bed. Do whatever you fucking want to me, just let me fucking come!” Tears form in his eyes again.

As you come down from your high, your body still shaking slightly, you glance down at him with a wicked grin. “You’ve convinced me, you’ve been so good, baby,” you murmur, leaning forward to press a soft kiss to his lips. “Now it’s your turn.”  

His eyes darken with hunger, and he lets out a relieved moan as you start moving again. This time, it’s for him, your hips rolling in a way that has him trembling beneath you.  

“Fuck, I’m so close,” he groans, his voice breaking as his hips jerk uncontrollably.  

“Come for me, Rafe,” you whisper, your voice soft but commanding. “I want to feel you lose control.”  

That’s all it takes. His head falls back, his mouth opening in a silent cry as he reaches his peak. His body tenses, his hips bucking up into you as he spills inside you, the cuffs clinking faintly as his hands flex uselessly.  

You slow your movements again, guiding him through his release, your hands moving to cup his face. His eyes flutter open, meeting yours with a look of pure adoration and exhaustion.  

“Fuck,” he breathes, a shaky laugh escaping his lips. “You’re unreal.”  

You smile softly, brushing a damp strand of hair from his forehead. “I told you, Rafe. You don’t get anything unless I say so.”  

“Then remind me to never get on your bad side,” he chuckles, his voice still thick with satisfaction.  

“I think you liked it though,” you reply through a smirk.

You press a gentle kiss to his lips, the intensity of the moment giving way to something softer. You unlock the cuffs for a final time and you both savor the quiet aftermath, your bodies tangled together on the couch, the only light coming from his small Christmas tree in the corner of his living room.

Tags- @maybankslover @eringaitskill @luissa266 @lolll505 @dayyzlol @calaryssia @eg-dr3amer3 @hotch-meeeeeuppppp @rafestar @writtenbyhollywood @leilanizcals @rafestoothbrush @weluvwbb @itsforeverandalwayz @butterfly-ibuki @percysley @siredbtches @bigenergy777 @aupernatural-teenwolflover @slut4you @rafegf-real @skywalker0809 @whytheylosttheirminds @starkeysprincess @rafeyscurtainbangs @cameronsprincess @itneverendshere @zya8tracks @httpsdrewstarkey @angelicameron @littlelamy @kieeslove @snowtargaryen @nemesyaaa @etheraltides @starkeysprincess @cooper8224 @hockeybabe87 @xdaughterofpersephonex @leather-n-velvet @mima116 @urbrunettebombshell @pogueprincesa @purplerose291 @frankoceanluvr11 @ivysprophecy @starsmoonn @akobx @rafestify @drwstarkeys

[rafesbabygirlx]

Omg 😭😭😂

Thank you so much 🫠

6 𝑫𝒂𝒚𝒔 𝒐𝒇 𝑪𝒉𝒓𝒊𝒔𝒕𝒎𝒂𝒔 🎄 𝑹𝒂𝒇𝒆 𝑪𝒂𝒎𝒆𝒓𝒐𝒏

𝙳𝚊𝚢 1 - 𝙽𝚊𝚞𝚐𝚑𝚝𝚢 𝙻𝚒𝚜𝚝 - 𝚂𝚞𝚋!𝚁𝚊𝚏𝚎 𝚡 𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛

𝚂𝚞𝚖𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚢: 𝚁𝚊𝚏𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚐𝚎𝚝 𝚊𝚠𝚊𝚢 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚋𝚎𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚘𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚗𝚊𝚞𝚐𝚑𝚝𝚢 𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝, 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞’𝚛𝚎 𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚖𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚜𝚞𝚛𝚎 𝚑𝚎 𝚙𝚊𝚢𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚙𝚛𝚒𝚌𝚎. 𝙸𝚗 𝚊 𝚗𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚏𝚒𝚕𝚕𝚎𝚍 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚝𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚜𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚢𝚏𝚞𝚕 𝚙𝚘𝚠𝚎𝚛 𝚜𝚑𝚒𝚏𝚝𝚜, 𝚢𝚘𝚞’𝚕𝚕 𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚠 𝚑𝚒𝚖 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚋𝚎𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚋𝚊𝚍 𝚌𝚊𝚗 𝚋𝚎 𝚒𝚝𝚜 𝚘𝚠𝚗 𝚛𝚎𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚍.

𝚆𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜: 𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚌𝚞𝚏𝚏 𝚞𝚜𝚎, 𝚠𝚑𝚒𝚙 𝚞𝚜𝚎, 𝚜𝚖𝚞𝚝, 𝚏𝚊𝚌𝚎 𝚛𝚒𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚛𝚒𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚜𝚞𝚋 𝚁𝚊𝚏𝚎

𝙼𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝

Rafe leaned against his kitchen counter, scrolling idly on his phone, when a firm knock echoed through his apartment. Curious, he swung the door open—and froze.  

There you stood, framed in the doorway, a vision in a sleek, velvet Santa corset that hugged your figure, paired with thigh-high boots that clicked confidently against the floor as you stepped inside. A playful smirk curled your lips, and over your shoulder, you carried a crimson sack adorned with jingling bells.  

“Well, well,” you said, your voice dripping with amusement. “Rafe Cameron. You’ve been very bad this year.”  

He leaned against the doorframe, crossing his arms with a grin. “Bad? Me? You must have the wrong guy.”  

“Nice try.” You pulled a scroll from the sack and unrolled it dramatically. “Let’s see here—late-night pranks, stealing the last slice of cake, and oh, this one’s my favorite: orchestrating the mistletoe ambush. Sound familiar?”  

His grin widened. “So, what happens now? You write a strongly worded letter to Santa?”  

“No.” You took a deliberate step closer, pulling a pair of fuzzy red handcuffs from the sack. “I’m here to make sure you get what you deserve.”  

Before he could protest, you snapped the cuffs around his wrists, tugging them gently behind his back. Rafe let out a low laugh, the sound reverberating in the quiet room.  

“This is adorable,” he teased. “You think you’re in charge now?”  

“Oh, I know I am.” Reaching into the sack again, you retrieved a peppermint-scented whip. The faint aroma filled the air as you traced the leather lightly over his chest, your gaze locking with his.  

His smirk faltered, just for a moment, before returning. “And what’s next? You interrogate me with Christmas carols?”  

You leaned in, your voice a sultry whisper. “Only if you don’t behave.”  

The tension crackled between you like the fire burning in the hearth behind him. The soft pop and hiss of the flames provided the perfect soundtrack to your game. The cool peppermint oil you dabbed onto your fingertips sent shivers through him as you traced it along his collarbone, the sharp scent mingling with the warm notes of pine and cinnamon from the room.  

“Explain your misdeeds, Rafe,” you said, your lips brushing against his ear. “And maybe, just maybe, I’ll go easy on you.”  

His voice was low, filled with challenge. “What if I have no regrets?”  

You laughed softly, shaking your head as you leaned in closer. “Then I guess we’ll have to keep going until you do.”  

Before he could respond, you captured his lips in a searing kiss. His hands flexed against the cuffs, testing the restraints, but they held firm. When the kiss broke, his gaze was darker, his smirk more dangerous.  

“This is cute,” he said, his voice a low rumble. “But let’s see how long you can hold the upper hand.”  

“Oh, Rafe,” you replied, brushing the whip lightly across his shoulder. “You’re not in a position to make demands.”  

Rafe leaned harder against the counter, his blue eyes narrowing as a slow, amused smirk tugged at the corner of his lips. The glint of challenge in his gaze told you he wasn’t about to let you win that easily, even with his hands restrained.  

“You’ve got my attention,” he said, voice smooth and teasing as he leaned his weight back, testing the cuffs just enough to make the chain jingle softly. “But you’re playing a dangerous game, sweetheart.”  

You tilted your head, feigning innocence as you traced the handle of the peppermint-scented whip up the center of his chest, watching his shoulders tense beneath his thin t-shirt. “Dangerous? I thought I was just spreading some Christmas cheer,” you replied, your voice syrupy and sweet.  

“That’s what we’re calling this now?” Rafe shot back, his cocky grin still firmly in place, though his breathing had deepened just slightly under your careful ministrations. “You breaking into my apartment in a—” his eyes swept over your velvet corset and thigh-high boots, lingering longer than necessary, “—festive little number and slapping cuffs on me? Santa would not approve.”  

“Santa doesn’t need to know what I do, I’m here to make sure those on the naughty list are punished” you murmured, leaning in close until your lips hovered just a breath away from his. The scent of peppermint oil still lingered in the air, sharp and intoxicating, and you could practically feel the heat radiating from him. “Besides,” you continued, your voice dropping to a sultry whisper, “Santa‘a not in charge of this particular bad boy. I am.”  

Rafe exhaled a soft laugh, though his voice was lower now, tinged with something heavier. “That right? I’d be careful if I were you. Bad boys bite back.”  

“Oh, I’m counting on it.”  

The whip trailed lower, grazing just above the waistband of his jeans. Rafe shifted, his muscles flexing beneath the taut fabric of his shirt as he regarded you with a look that was equal parts playful and dark. There was something addicting about the way he stared at you—challenging you to keep going, daring you to see just how far you’d push him.  

“You’re enjoying this way too much,” he muttered, but the amused edge in his voice betrayed him.  

“Maybe I am,” you purred, brushing your lips along his jawline before pulling back with a playful grin. “But that’s not your concern, is it? You’re supposed to be reflecting on all those things I listed.”  

Rafe cocked a brow, lips curling into a devilish smirk as he tilted his head slightly. “Let’s see… the cake was worth it, the pranks were legendary, and the mistletoe ambush? You didn’t seem to mind that one.”  

Your laugh rang out as you gave him a teasing swat with the whip across his thigh—just enough to make him tense but not enough to wipe the grin from his face. “Careful, Cameron. You’re not exactly pleading your case here.”  

He rolled his shoulders, pushing off the counter slightly despite the restraints. “Maybe I don’t want to plead. Maybe I’m more interested in what happens next.”  

You stared him down for a beat, the heat in the room thickening like the glow of the fire crackling in the hearth in the living room. It was a dance—the way he pushed, the way you pulled back just enough to keep him guessing. Slowly, you unhooked the whip from where it hung on your fingers, letting it drop to the floor with a faint thud.  

“Then I guess we skip the misdeeds, for now,” you murmured, stepping closer until you were chest to chest, your fingers sliding under the edge of his shirt to trace the firm lines of his stomach. Rafe inhaled sharply, his gaze flickering to yours, darker now. “But if you don’t behave,” you added softly, tugging on the cuff chain just enough to remind him of his position, “I’ll have to find another way to punish you.”  

His smile widened, though there was a hint of challenge in his tone as he replied, “You really think you can handle me?”  

“Oh, I know I can.” You leaned in, pressing a lingering kiss to the corner of his mouth before pulling back with a smirk of your own. “Now be a good boy, Rafe.”  

For the first time, Rafe didn’t have a comeback. His eyes followed you as you stepped back with a slow, deliberate confidence, the bells on your crimson sack jingling softly with every movement. The air between you buzzed like a live wire, a tension thick enough to taste.  

“Game on,” he muttered under his breath, more to himself than to you, as you disappeared around the corner.  

Rafe tilted his head back, letting out a low chuckle that echoed in the otherwise quiet kitchen, his pulse still racing. If you thought you’d won this round, you were in for a surprise—Rafe Cameron didn’t go down without a fight. 

You stride back into the kitchen, the soft jingle of bells you untied from the sack now around your boots the only sound in the room. Rafe's gaze snaps to you, and his expression shifts from smug confidence to stunned silence. His mouth parts slightly as his eyes rake over you, taking in every inch of your bare form save for the thigh-high boots that click against the floor. You hold his stare, the whip dangling loosely from your fingers, having picked it back up, exuding power with every deliberate step.  

You move him from the counter, taking his place. Without breaking eye contact, you lift the whip, running the tassels slowly, seductively, down your body. The teasing motion makes his breath hitch, his jaw tightening as he fights to maintain composure. When the whip trails lower, the tip grazing over your clit, your soft moans echo in the silence, sending him over the edge. Rafe instinctively moves closer, his desire unrestrained.  

“Uh-uh,” you chide, your voice sharp yet laced with amusement. The crack of the whip against his thigh is quick, precise, and commanding, earning a low grunt from him. “You don’t move unless I say so.”  

He retreats slightly, his defiance flickering as he clenches his fists, but you’re not about to let him off that easily. In one fluid motion, you grab his arm, pulling him toward you with force that surprises him, motioning him to his knees before you.  

“Simon says,” you purr, tilting his chin upward with the handle of the whip, your smirk wicked and daring. “Tongue out.”  

His compliance is immediate, his lips parting as his tongue slips out in obedient surrender, his gaze locked on yours, blazing with a mix of challenge and submission. The tension crackles between you, and you savor the control, knowing you’ve completely unraveled him. Rafe's breathing grows heavier as he kneels before you, his gaze locked on yours, dark and smoldering. The tension in the air is palpable.

"Good boy," you purr, running the whip’s tassels across his face, letting them linger just long enough to tease. His eyes are still on you, blazing with a mixture of defiance and submission, a combination that only fuels the fire building in your core.

You lean forward slightly, still perched on the counter, your movements slow and deliberate as you trace his jawline with the tip of your finger. “See? You can behave when you want to,” you murmur, a wicked grin tugging at your lips.

Rafe’s hands flex behind his back, his muscles straining against the temptation to reach for you. He’s teetering on the edge of control, and you can see it in the way his chest rises and falls, in the way his tongue stays perfectly still, waiting for your command.

“You like being told what to do, don’t you?” you ask, tilting your head as you slide the whip’s handle under his chin, lifting his face slightly. His response is a low, guttural sound that sends a shiver down your spine.

“Words, Rafe,” you chide, your voice dripping with authority.

His tongue retracts just enough to let him speak. “Only when it’s you,” he rasps, his voice thick with desire.

The admission makes your heart race, but you keep your composure, leaning back against the counter with an air of confidence. “Smart answer,” you reply, your tone light but edged with satisfaction. “Maybe you deserve a reward.”

Rafe’s eyes flicker with hope, his body tensing in anticipation, but you’re not about to make it that easy for him. You lean forward, your voice a sultry whisper as you say, “Simon says… don’t move a muscle.”

He stays perfectly still, sticking his tongue back out. His obedience is both surprising and intoxicating. You trace the whip’s tassels down his chest, letting them skim over his abdomen before pulling them back up with a sharp flick. The motion draws a low growl from him, his restraint beginning to crack under your control.

“Sweet boy,” you praise again, watching the way his pupils dilate at the words. You lean down until your lips are just inches from his ear and add, “But don’t think for a second you’re in charge tonight.”

Rafe’s response is a slow, deliberate grin, his eyes dark with unspoken promises that send a shiver down your spine. Without hesitation, you step closer, tangling your fingers in his hair and tugging firmly, guiding his head toward you. His lips part, his breath warm against your skin as you lower yourself onto his face, and in an instant, you lay your pussy on his flattened tongue, feeling it as it explores every inch of you.

The initial contact makes your body jolt, your movements instinctively faltering as a rush of pleasure courses through you. You feel the curve of a smile form on his face, the subtle vibration of his amusement only heightening the sensation.  

“You enjoying this as much as I am?” you ask breathlessly, your gaze meeting his smoldering eyes. He nods slightly in response, the motion teasing you further as he doubles down on his efforts.  

Your rhythm builds, each grind of your hips sending waves of heat through you. “Flick your tongue, baby,” you command, your voice cracking with need. The instant he complies, the tip of his tongue swirling at your entrance, a loud moan escapes your lips. You feel the wetness dripping down, slickening his cheeks and chin as he moans into you, the vibrations pushing you closer to the edge.  

You brace yourself against the counter, your knuckles turning white as you struggle to maintain control. But Rafe knows exactly what he’s doing—each flick, swirl, and shift of his tongue driving you higher, faster. The fire in your stomach burns fiercely, igniting with an intensity you can’t suppress. Slowing your movements, you try to hold on a moment longer, grinding against him in a desperate attempt to draw out the pleasure. You’re supposed to be in control. You can't give in that easily.   

Then, he shifts his head just slightly, hitting the perfect spot and his nose rocking against your clit, your resolve crumbles. A shudder wracks through you as your pace quickens involuntarily, your climax crashing over you with devastating force. You cry out, gripping the counter to steady yourself as waves of pleasure leave you trembling in his grasp.  

As the aftershocks ripple through you, you try to lift yourself away, but the hunger in his eyes stops you. You move back down slightly, his mouth resuming its work as he laps up every last trace of your release. You melt under his touch, the world narrowing to the warmth of his lips and the unrelenting focus in his gaze. He knows how to get you even when you don’t want him too.  

You help him up to his feet, moving to the living room and unlocking the cuffs. “Get naked, baby.” 

He complies without hesitation, his hands moving swiftly to shed his clothing until every barrier between you is gone. His body is a masterpiece in the soft glow of the dimly lit room, each line and curve illuminated like a work of art. Yet his focus remains entirely on you, his piercing gaze locked with yours, a mix of obedience and raw anticipation evident in his posture as he stands still, awaiting your command.  

With a smirk, you step toward him, the clink of the cuffs in your hand drawing his attention. “Hands,” you instruct, your voice soft but firm. He raises them obediently, and you secure the cuffs around his wrists, this time in front of him. His lips twitch upward in subtle recognition of the shift—knowing you’re granting him just enough freedom for what you have planned.  

You guide him to the couch, pushing him gently until he sinks down onto the cushions, the plush fabric contrasting with the tension in his body. He looks up at you, eyes dark with want, but he doesn’t move, his cuffed hands resting in his lap, waiting for permission.  

“Good boy,” you murmur, straddling his waist, your thighs framing his hips as you settle into his lap. His sharp intake of breath at the contact sends a thrill through you, his skin warm against yours. He goes to brush his fingers along your stomach. 

You push his hands down and  lean in close, brushing your lips over his ear as you whisper, “I’m in control, Rafe, remember? You don’t touch unless I say. Understood?”  

“Yes,” he replies, his voice low and husky, the word almost a growl.  

Satisfied, you trail your hands down his chest, your nails grazing lightly against his skin, earning a sharp inhale from him. His restrained hands twitch, but he doesn’t lift them, his compliance making you grin. You grind your hips slowly up and down his length, teasing him as your bodies connect, the friction igniting a fire between you.  

“You’re doing so well,” you purr, placing your hands on his shoulders for balance as you continue to move. His jaw tightens, his head tipping back slightly, exposing the curve of his throat as he fights the urge to take control.  

Leaning back, you meet his gaze, your movements deliberate and tantalizingly slow. “Tell me what you want, Rafe,” you tease, your voice laced with mock innocence.  

“You,” he rasps, his voice strained. “I want all of you.”  

You smile wickedly, leaning in so close that your breath mingles with his, the tension crackling between you. His eyes dart to your lips just before you nip at his bottom lip, eliciting a low growl from deep in his chest. You pull back just enough to meet his darkened gaze, a teasing smirk playing on your lips.  

“Then you’re going to have to earn it,” you purr, your voice dripping with challenge, each word deliberate and tantalizing.  

Rafe’s jaw tightens, his lips parting slightly as if to respond, but you cut him off with a finger pressed lightly against his mouth. “No talking. Just listening,” you command softly, your eyes glinting with authority.  

He nods, his compliance stirring something primal in you. Moving with purpose, you take his cuffed wrists in your hands, guiding them up to rest on the back of the couch. His muscles flex under your touch, but he holds steady, his breaths coming heavier as you climb onto his lap, straddling his waist.  

“Good boy,” you murmur, leaning forward to trail your lips along the sharp edge of his jawline. He shudders beneath you, his body instinctively leaning into yours. 

You reach out, running your hands down his chest, feeling every taut line of his torso. “You want to touch me, don’t you?” you ask, your voice a teasing whisper against his ear.  

“Yes,” he replies, his voice rough, barely above a growl.  

You sit up, breaking contact with him, scratching your nails lightly on his neck, watching the way his body responds, the way he moves into your touch, the way his hips shift beneath you trying to feel you again. “Not yet,” you say firmly, smirking at the soft groan of frustration he lets out.  

“I’m starting to think you enjoy torturing me,” he says, his voice low and filled with a mix of amusement and desperation.  

You laugh softly, your hands sliding down his arms until your fingers meet his cuffed wrists. “It’s not torture,” you reply, leaning closer so your lips are just a breath away from his. “It’s discipline.”  

Before he can reply, you press your lips to his, your body pressing firmly against his. His hands flex in the cuffs, desperate to touch you, but you keep him in place, controlling every movement, every sensation.  

You lean into him, lips ghosting over his cheek and then trailing a path down his neck. His scent, musky and intoxicating, fills your senses as your fingers continue their feigned innocence, brushing “accidentally” over his length. Each fleeting touch makes him flinch, his body tensing beneath you. His breathing is ragged now, his chest rising and falling as he struggles to maintain control.  

“Do you want it, baby?” you whisper into his ear, your voice smooth and dripping with seduction.  

“Yes,” Rafe replies immediately, the desperation in his voice making you smile.  

“How bad?” you purr, pulling back just enough to see his flushed face.  

“Bad,” he groans, his voice thick and raw with need.  

You tilt your head, pretending to consider. “Hm, you’ve got to convince me, sweet boy.”  

He breaks. “I need you so fucking bad,” he blurts out, his voice cracking as tears well in his eyes. “I need you to sit on my cock and fuck the shit out of me already. It hurts—I fucking need you.” The words tumble out of him, uninhibited, his desperation painted clearly on his face as a single tear escapes and slides down his cheek.  

Your heart clenches at the sight, and you soften for just a moment, cupping his face in your hands. Gently, you wipe away his tears with your thumbs, your gaze locking with his. “Okay, okay,” you soothe, your voice a mix of teasing and genuine affection. “I’ll give you what you need.”  

His eyes burn with gratitude and unrestrained hunger as you move back closer to him, your boots jingling softly with every move. The sound only heightens the tension, each chime a reminder of the game you’ve played all night. You pull him to sit back up, your body pressing against his in all the right ways.  

Without wasting another second, you position yourself, taking hold of his length and guiding him to your entrance. Slowly, deliberately, you sink down onto him, a gasp escaping your lips as he fills you completely. Rafe throws his head back, a guttural groan escaping his throat as his hands, still cuffed, flex uselessly in front of him.  

You pause for a moment, adjusting, letting the sensation of him inside you consume you. His eyes find yours, a mix of awe and raw need etched across his face. Then, with a wicked grin, you lift yourself and slam back down, earning a deep moan from him that reverberates through the room.  

“Fuck, you feel so good,” he growls, his voice rough with pleasure.  

You don’t respond, too focused on your movements. Rising and falling, you set a relentless rhythm, the bells on your boots creating a hypnotic jingle with each bounce. Your hands grip his shoulders for balance, and when that’s not enough, you reach for his neck, steadying yourself as you ride him harder, faster.  

Rafe’s hips buck beneath you, trying to meet your movements, but the cuffs keep him from taking control. “You’re killing me, baby,” he groans, his voice strained.  

“You’re mine tonight,” you breathe, leaning forward so your lips are just a whisper away from his. “And you don’t do anything unless I let you.”  

The tension between you builds, each thrust sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body. Your nails dig into his neck as you throw your head back, moaning his name. The sounds of your passion fill the room, blending with the soft chime of the bells and the steady rhythm of your bodies moving together.  

Rafe’s eyes never leave you, his gaze full of adoration and desperation. “Please, baby,” he murmurs, his voice breaking. “Let me—”  

“Not yet,” you cut him off, your movements only growing more determined. “You’ll take it until I say you’ve had enough.”

You feel the fire in your core intensifying, each thrust bringing you closer to the edge. The look in Rafe’s eyes—pure, unadulterated lust mixed with helpless devotion—only adds fuel to the fire. His chest heaves beneath you, his muscles taut as he strains against the cuffs, desperate to touch you, to take control, but completely at your mercy.  

“Fuck, you’re so big baby,” you gasp, your voice shaky as the pleasure overtakes you. Your hands grip his neck tighter for balance as your rhythm grows erratic, each bounce sending shockwaves through your body.  

Rafe groans deeply, his head falling back against the couch as his hips try to meet your movements. “You’re gonna kill me, baby,” he growls, his voice thick with need. “Let me touch you—please, I can’t—”  

“No,” you pant, cutting him off as you lean forward, your lips brushing against his ear. “This is about me and you trying to get yourself on my nice list.”  

The heat in your body reaches its peak, your movements becoming frenzied as you chase the release building within you. But it’s not enough—you need more. You slow just slightly and meet Rafe’s eyes, your breath hitching as you command, “Rub my clit, Rafe. Now.”  

His eyes widen, and a flicker of relief crosses his face as you guide his cuffed hands to your center. The moment his fingers connect with you, you shiver, his touch electric against your sensitive skin. He moves in slow, deliberate circles, the pressure perfect, and your body responds instantly.  

“Just like that,” you moan, your head falling back as your hips grind against his hand. The combined sensation of his cock inside you and his fingers expertly working your clit pushes you dangerously close to the edge.  

“Oh, fuck,” you cry out, your voice trembling as the fire in your stomach ignites into a full-blown inferno. Your walls clench around him, your body trembling as wave after wave of pleasure crashes over you. Your moans fill the room, loud and unabashed, your nails digging into his shoulders as you ride out the high.  

Rafe watches you, completely mesmerized, his own control hanging by a thread. The way your body moves, the way your face twists in pleasure—it’s enough to drive him insane.  

“God, you’re so fucking perfect,” he groans, his voice low and raw. “Fuck, I’m gonna cum.”

You slow down your movements, still riding out your high but preventing him from his. One last form of dominance as you drag out his pleasure. Grinding down onto him is painful movements.

“I need you to move,” he pleads.

“Tell me why you deserve a reward?” You giggle, mocking him slightly.

“Fuck- I’ll be so good to you. You can have all the pieces of cake. No more scaring you before bed. Do whatever you fucking want to me, just let me fucking come!” Tears form in his eyes again.

As you come down from your high, your body still shaking slightly, you glance down at him with a wicked grin. “You’ve convinced me, you’ve been so good, baby,” you murmur, leaning forward to press a soft kiss to his lips. “Now it’s your turn.”  

His eyes darken with hunger, and he lets out a relieved moan as you start moving again. This time, it’s for him, your hips rolling in a way that has him trembling beneath you.  

“Fuck, I’m so close,” he groans, his voice breaking as his hips jerk uncontrollably.  

“Come for me, Rafe,” you whisper, your voice soft but commanding. “I want to feel you lose control.”  

That’s all it takes. His head falls back, his mouth opening in a silent cry as he reaches his peak. His body tenses, his hips bucking up into you as he spills inside you, the cuffs clinking faintly as his hands flex uselessly.  

You slow your movements again, guiding him through his release, your hands moving to cup his face. His eyes flutter open, meeting yours with a look of pure adoration and exhaustion.  

“Fuck,” he breathes, a shaky laugh escaping his lips. “You’re unreal.”  

You smile softly, brushing a damp strand of hair from his forehead. “I told you, Rafe. You don’t get anything unless I say so.”  

“Then remind me to never get on your bad side,” he chuckles, his voice still thick with satisfaction.  

“I think you liked it though,” you reply through a smirk.

You press a gentle kiss to his lips, the intensity of the moment giving way to something softer. You unlock the cuffs for a final time and you both savor the quiet aftermath, your bodies tangled together on the couch, the only light coming from his small Christmas tree in the corner of his living room.

Tags- @maybankslover @eringaitskill @luissa266 @lolll505 @dayyzlol @calaryssia @eg-dr3amer3 @hotch-meeeeeuppppp @rafestar @writtenbyhollywood @leilanizcals @rafestoothbrush @weluvwbb @itsforeverandalwayz @butterfly-ibuki @percysley @siredbtches @bigenergy777 @aupernatural-teenwolflover @slut4you @rafegf-real @skywalker0809 @whytheylosttheirminds @starkeysprincess @rafeyscurtainbangs @cameronsprincess @itneverendshere @zya8tracks @httpsdrewstarkey @angelicameron @littlelamy @kieeslove @snowtargaryen @nemesyaaa @etheraltides @starkeysprincess @cooper8224 @hockeybabe87 @rafeyscurtainbangs @rafescokewhore @drewsephrry @rafeswif3

[rafesbabygirlx]

6 𝑫𝒂𝒚𝒔 𝒐𝒇 𝑪𝒉𝒓𝒊𝒔𝒕𝒎𝒂𝒔 🎄 𝑹𝒂𝒇𝒆 𝑪𝒂𝒎𝒆𝒓𝒐𝒏

𝙳𝚊𝚢 1 - 𝙽𝚊𝚞𝚐𝚑𝚝𝚢 𝙻𝚒𝚜𝚝 - 𝚂𝚞𝚋!𝚁𝚊𝚏𝚎 𝚡 𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛

𝚂𝚞𝚖𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚢: 𝚁𝚊𝚏𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚐𝚎𝚝 𝚊𝚠𝚊𝚢 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚋𝚎𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚘𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚗𝚊𝚞𝚐𝚑𝚝𝚢 𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝, 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞’𝚛𝚎 𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚖𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚜𝚞𝚛𝚎 𝚑𝚎 𝚙𝚊𝚢𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚙𝚛𝚒𝚌𝚎. 𝙸𝚗 𝚊 𝚗𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚏𝚒𝚕𝚕𝚎𝚍 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚝𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚜𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚢𝚏𝚞𝚕 𝚙𝚘𝚠𝚎𝚛 𝚜𝚑𝚒𝚏𝚝𝚜, 𝚢𝚘𝚞’𝚕𝚕 𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚠 𝚑𝚒𝚖 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚋𝚎𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚋𝚊𝚍 𝚌𝚊𝚗 𝚋𝚎 𝚒𝚝𝚜 𝚘𝚠𝚗 𝚛𝚎𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚍.

𝚆𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜: 𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚌𝚞𝚏𝚏 𝚞𝚜𝚎, 𝚠𝚑𝚒𝚙 𝚞𝚜𝚎, 𝚜𝚖𝚞𝚝, 𝚏𝚊𝚌𝚎 𝚛𝚒𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚛𝚒𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚜𝚞𝚋 𝚁𝚊𝚏𝚎

𝙼𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝

Rafe leaned against his kitchen counter, scrolling idly on his phone, when a firm knock echoed through his apartment. Curious, he swung the door open—and froze.  

There you stood, framed in the doorway, a vision in a sleek, velvet Santa corset that hugged your figure, paired with thigh-high boots that clicked confidently against the floor as you stepped inside. A playful smirk curled your lips, and over your shoulder, you carried a crimson sack adorned with jingling bells.  

“Well, well,” you said, your voice dripping with amusement. “Rafe Cameron. You’ve been very bad this year.”  

He leaned against the doorframe, crossing his arms with a grin. “Bad? Me? You must have the wrong guy.”  

“Nice try.” You pulled a scroll from the sack and unrolled it dramatically. “Let’s see here—late-night pranks, stealing the last slice of cake, and oh, this one’s my favorite: orchestrating the mistletoe ambush. Sound familiar?”  

His grin widened. “So, what happens now? You write a strongly worded letter to Santa?”  

“No.” You took a deliberate step closer, pulling a pair of fuzzy red handcuffs from the sack. “I’m here to make sure you get what you deserve.”  

Before he could protest, you snapped the cuffs around his wrists, tugging them gently behind his back. Rafe let out a low laugh, the sound reverberating in the quiet room.  

“This is adorable,” he teased. “You think you’re in charge now?”  

“Oh, I know I am.” Reaching into the sack again, you retrieved a peppermint-scented whip. The faint aroma filled the air as you traced the leather lightly over his chest, your gaze locking with his.  

His smirk faltered, just for a moment, before returning. “And what’s next? You interrogate me with Christmas carols?”  

You leaned in, your voice a sultry whisper. “Only if you don’t behave.”  

The tension crackled between you like the fire burning in the hearth behind him. The soft pop and hiss of the flames provided the perfect soundtrack to your game. The cool peppermint oil you dabbed onto your fingertips sent shivers through him as you traced it along his collarbone, the sharp scent mingling with the warm notes of pine and cinnamon from the room.  

“Explain your misdeeds, Rafe,” you said, your lips brushing against his ear. “And maybe, just maybe, I’ll go easy on you.”  

His voice was low, filled with challenge. “What if I have no regrets?”  

You laughed softly, shaking your head as you leaned in closer. “Then I guess we’ll have to keep going until you do.”  

Before he could respond, you captured his lips in a searing kiss. His hands flexed against the cuffs, testing the restraints, but they held firm. When the kiss broke, his gaze was darker, his smirk more dangerous.  

“This is cute,” he said, his voice a low rumble. “But let’s see how long you can hold the upper hand.”  

“Oh, Rafe,” you replied, brushing the whip lightly across his shoulder. “You’re not in a position to make demands.”  

Rafe leaned harder against the counter, his blue eyes narrowing as a slow, amused smirk tugged at the corner of his lips. The glint of challenge in his gaze told you he wasn’t about to let you win that easily, even with his hands restrained.  

“You’ve got my attention,” he said, voice smooth and teasing as he leaned his weight back, testing the cuffs just enough to make the chain jingle softly. “But you’re playing a dangerous game, sweetheart.”  

You tilted your head, feigning innocence as you traced the handle of the peppermint-scented whip up the center of his chest, watching his shoulders tense beneath his thin t-shirt. “Dangerous? I thought I was just spreading some Christmas cheer,” you replied, your voice syrupy and sweet.  

“That’s what we’re calling this now?” Rafe shot back, his cocky grin still firmly in place, though his breathing had deepened just slightly under your careful ministrations. “You breaking into my apartment in a—” his eyes swept over your velvet corset and thigh-high boots, lingering longer than necessary, “—festive little number and slapping cuffs on me? Santa would not approve.”  

“Santa doesn’t need to know what I do, I’m here to make sure those on the naughty list are punished” you murmured, leaning in close until your lips hovered just a breath away from his. The scent of peppermint oil still lingered in the air, sharp and intoxicating, and you could practically feel the heat radiating from him. “Besides,” you continued, your voice dropping to a sultry whisper, “Santa‘a not in charge of this particular bad boy. I am.”  

Rafe exhaled a soft laugh, though his voice was lower now, tinged with something heavier. “That right? I’d be careful if I were you. Bad boys bite back.”  

“Oh, I’m counting on it.”  

The whip trailed lower, grazing just above the waistband of his jeans. Rafe shifted, his muscles flexing beneath the taut fabric of his shirt as he regarded you with a look that was equal parts playful and dark. There was something addicting about the way he stared at you—challenging you to keep going, daring you to see just how far you’d push him.  

“You’re enjoying this way too much,” he muttered, but the amused edge in his voice betrayed him.  

“Maybe I am,” you purred, brushing your lips along his jawline before pulling back with a playful grin. “But that’s not your concern, is it? You’re supposed to be reflecting on all those things I listed.”  

Rafe cocked a brow, lips curling into a devilish smirk as he tilted his head slightly. “Let’s see… the cake was worth it, the pranks were legendary, and the mistletoe ambush? You didn’t seem to mind that one.”  

Your laugh rang out as you gave him a teasing swat with the whip across his thigh—just enough to make him tense but not enough to wipe the grin from his face. “Careful, Cameron. You’re not exactly pleading your case here.”  

He rolled his shoulders, pushing off the counter slightly despite the restraints. “Maybe I don’t want to plead. Maybe I’m more interested in what happens next.”  

You stared him down for a beat, the heat in the room thickening like the glow of the fire crackling in the hearth in the living room. It was a dance—the way he pushed, the way you pulled back just enough to keep him guessing. Slowly, you unhooked the whip from where it hung on your fingers, letting it drop to the floor with a faint thud.  

“Then I guess we skip the misdeeds, for now,” you murmured, stepping closer until you were chest to chest, your fingers sliding under the edge of his shirt to trace the firm lines of his stomach. Rafe inhaled sharply, his gaze flickering to yours, darker now. “But if you don’t behave,” you added softly, tugging on the cuff chain just enough to remind him of his position, “I’ll have to find another way to punish you.”  

His smile widened, though there was a hint of challenge in his tone as he replied, “You really think you can handle me?”  

“Oh, I know I can.” You leaned in, pressing a lingering kiss to the corner of his mouth before pulling back with a smirk of your own. “Now be a good boy, Rafe.”  

For the first time, Rafe didn’t have a comeback. His eyes followed you as you stepped back with a slow, deliberate confidence, the bells on your crimson sack jingling softly with every movement. The air between you buzzed like a live wire, a tension thick enough to taste.  

“Game on,” he muttered under his breath, more to himself than to you, as you disappeared around the corner.  

Rafe tilted his head back, letting out a low chuckle that echoed in the otherwise quiet kitchen, his pulse still racing. If you thought you’d won this round, you were in for a surprise—Rafe Cameron didn’t go down without a fight. 

You stride back into the kitchen, the soft jingle of bells you untied from the sack now around your boots the only sound in the room. Rafe's gaze snaps to you, and his expression shifts from smug confidence to stunned silence. His mouth parts slightly as his eyes rake over you, taking in every inch of your bare form save for the thigh-high boots that click against the floor. You hold his stare, the whip dangling loosely from your fingers, having picked it back up, exuding power with every deliberate step.  

You move him from the counter, taking his place. Without breaking eye contact, you lift the whip, running the tassels slowly, seductively, down your body. The teasing motion makes his breath hitch, his jaw tightening as he fights to maintain composure. When the whip trails lower, the tip grazing over your clit, your soft moans echo in the silence, sending him over the edge. Rafe instinctively moves closer, his desire unrestrained.  

“Uh-uh,” you chide, your voice sharp yet laced with amusement. The crack of the whip against his thigh is quick, precise, and commanding, earning a low grunt from him. “You don’t move unless I say so.”  

He retreats slightly, his defiance flickering as he clenches his fists, but you’re not about to let him off that easily. In one fluid motion, you grab his arm, pulling him toward you with force that surprises him, motioning him to his knees before you.  

“Simon says,” you purr, tilting his chin upward with the handle of the whip, your smirk wicked and daring. “Tongue out.”  

His compliance is immediate, his lips parting as his tongue slips out in obedient surrender, his gaze locked on yours, blazing with a mix of challenge and submission. The tension crackles between you, and you savor the control, knowing you’ve completely unraveled him. Rafe's breathing grows heavier as he kneels before you, his gaze locked on yours, dark and smoldering. The tension in the air is palpable.

"Good boy," you purr, running the whip’s tassels across his face, letting them linger just long enough to tease. His eyes are still on you, blazing with a mixture of defiance and submission, a combination that only fuels the fire building in your core.

You lean forward slightly, still perched on the counter, your movements slow and deliberate as you trace his jawline with the tip of your finger. “See? You can behave when you want to,” you murmur, a wicked grin tugging at your lips.

Rafe’s hands flex behind his back, his muscles straining against the temptation to reach for you. He’s teetering on the edge of control, and you can see it in the way his chest rises and falls, in the way his tongue stays perfectly still, waiting for your command.

“You like being told what to do, don’t you?” you ask, tilting your head as you slide the whip’s handle under his chin, lifting his face slightly. His response is a low, guttural sound that sends a shiver down your spine.

“Words, Rafe,” you chide, your voice dripping with authority.

His tongue retracts just enough to let him speak. “Only when it’s you,” he rasps, his voice thick with desire.

The admission makes your heart race, but you keep your composure, leaning back against the counter with an air of confidence. “Smart answer,” you reply, your tone light but edged with satisfaction. “Maybe you deserve a reward.”

Rafe’s eyes flicker with hope, his body tensing in anticipation, but you’re not about to make it that easy for him. You lean forward, your voice a sultry whisper as you say, “Simon says… don’t move a muscle.”

He stays perfectly still, sticking his tongue back out. His obedience is both surprising and intoxicating. You trace the whip’s tassels down his chest, letting them skim over his abdomen before pulling them back up with a sharp flick. The motion draws a low growl from him, his restraint beginning to crack under your control.

“Sweet boy,” you praise again, watching the way his pupils dilate at the words. You lean down until your lips are just inches from his ear and add, “But don’t think for a second you’re in charge tonight.”

Rafe’s response is a slow, deliberate grin, his eyes dark with unspoken promises that send a shiver down your spine. Without hesitation, you step closer, tangling your fingers in his hair and tugging firmly, guiding his head toward you. His lips part, his breath warm against your skin as you lower yourself onto his face, and in an instant, you lay your pussy on his flattened tongue, feeling it as it explores every inch of you.

The initial contact makes your body jolt, your movements instinctively faltering as a rush of pleasure courses through you. You feel the curve of a smile form on his face, the subtle vibration of his amusement only heightening the sensation.  

“You enjoying this as much as I am?” you ask breathlessly, your gaze meeting his smoldering eyes. He nods slightly in response, the motion teasing you further as he doubles down on his efforts.  

Your rhythm builds, each grind of your hips sending waves of heat through you. “Flick your tongue, baby,” you command, your voice cracking with need. The instant he complies, the tip of his tongue swirling at your entrance, a loud moan escapes your lips. You feel the wetness dripping down, slickening his cheeks and chin as he moans into you, the vibrations pushing you closer to the edge.  

You brace yourself against the counter, your knuckles turning white as you struggle to maintain control. But Rafe knows exactly what he’s doing—each flick, swirl, and shift of his tongue driving you higher, faster. The fire in your stomach burns fiercely, igniting with an intensity you can’t suppress. Slowing your movements, you try to hold on a moment longer, grinding against him in a desperate attempt to draw out the pleasure. You’re supposed to be in control. You can't give in that easily.   

Then, he shifts his head just slightly, hitting the perfect spot and his nose rocking against your clit, your resolve crumbles. A shudder wracks through you as your pace quickens involuntarily, your climax crashing over you with devastating force. You cry out, gripping the counter to steady yourself as waves of pleasure leave you trembling in his grasp.  

As the aftershocks ripple through you, you try to lift yourself away, but the hunger in his eyes stops you. You move back down slightly, his mouth resuming its work as he laps up every last trace of your release. You melt under his touch, the world narrowing to the warmth of his lips and the unrelenting focus in his gaze. He knows how to get you even when you don’t want him too.  

You help him up to his feet, moving to the living room and unlocking the cuffs. “Get naked, baby.” 

He complies without hesitation, his hands moving swiftly to shed his clothing until every barrier between you is gone. His body is a masterpiece in the soft glow of the dimly lit room, each line and curve illuminated like a work of art. Yet his focus remains entirely on you, his piercing gaze locked with yours, a mix of obedience and raw anticipation evident in his posture as he stands still, awaiting your command.  

With a smirk, you step toward him, the clink of the cuffs in your hand drawing his attention. “Hands,” you instruct, your voice soft but firm. He raises them obediently, and you secure the cuffs around his wrists, this time in front of him. His lips twitch upward in subtle recognition of the shift—knowing you’re granting him just enough freedom for what you have planned.  

You guide him to the couch, pushing him gently until he sinks down onto the cushions, the plush fabric contrasting with the tension in his body. He looks up at you, eyes dark with want, but he doesn’t move, his cuffed hands resting in his lap, waiting for permission.  

“Good boy,” you murmur, straddling his waist, your thighs framing his hips as you settle into his lap. His sharp intake of breath at the contact sends a thrill through you, his skin warm against yours. He goes to brush his fingers along your stomach. 

You push his hands down and  lean in close, brushing your lips over his ear as you whisper, “I’m in control, Rafe, remember? You don’t touch unless I say. Understood?”  

“Yes,” he replies, his voice low and husky, the word almost a growl.  

Satisfied, you trail your hands down his chest, your nails grazing lightly against his skin, earning a sharp inhale from him. His restrained hands twitch, but he doesn’t lift them, his compliance making you grin. You grind your hips slowly up and down his length, teasing him as your bodies connect, the friction igniting a fire between you.  

“You’re doing so well,” you purr, placing your hands on his shoulders for balance as you continue to move. His jaw tightens, his head tipping back slightly, exposing the curve of his throat as he fights the urge to take control.  

Leaning back, you meet his gaze, your movements deliberate and tantalizingly slow. “Tell me what you want, Rafe,” you tease, your voice laced with mock innocence.  

“You,” he rasps, his voice strained. “I want all of you.”  

You smile wickedly, leaning in so close that your breath mingles with his, the tension crackling between you. His eyes dart to your lips just before you nip at his bottom lip, eliciting a low growl from deep in his chest. You pull back just enough to meet his darkened gaze, a teasing smirk playing on your lips.  

“Then you’re going to have to earn it,” you purr, your voice dripping with challenge, each word deliberate and tantalizing.  

Rafe’s jaw tightens, his lips parting slightly as if to respond, but you cut him off with a finger pressed lightly against his mouth. “No talking. Just listening,” you command softly, your eyes glinting with authority.  

He nods, his compliance stirring something primal in you. Moving with purpose, you take his cuffed wrists in your hands, guiding them up to rest on the back of the couch. His muscles flex under your touch, but he holds steady, his breaths coming heavier as you climb onto his lap, straddling his waist.  

“Good boy,” you murmur, leaning forward to trail your lips along the sharp edge of his jawline. He shudders beneath you, his body instinctively leaning into yours. 

You reach out, running your hands down his chest, feeling every taut line of his torso. “You want to touch me, don’t you?” you ask, your voice a teasing whisper against his ear.  

“Yes,” he replies, his voice rough, barely above a growl.  

You sit up, breaking contact with him, scratching your nails lightly on his neck, watching the way his body responds, the way he moves into your touch, the way his hips shift beneath you trying to feel you again. “Not yet,” you say firmly, smirking at the soft groan of frustration he lets out.  

“I’m starting to think you enjoy torturing me,” he says, his voice low and filled with a mix of amusement and desperation.  

You laugh softly, your hands sliding down his arms until your fingers meet his cuffed wrists. “It’s not torture,” you reply, leaning closer so your lips are just a breath away from his. “It’s discipline.”  

Before he can reply, you press your lips to his, your body pressing firmly against his. His hands flex in the cuffs, desperate to touch you, but you keep him in place, controlling every movement, every sensation.  

You lean into him, lips ghosting over his cheek and then trailing a path down his neck. His scent, musky and intoxicating, fills your senses as your fingers continue their feigned innocence, brushing “accidentally” over his length. Each fleeting touch makes him flinch, his body tensing beneath you. His breathing is ragged now, his chest rising and falling as he struggles to maintain control.  

“Do you want it, baby?” you whisper into his ear, your voice smooth and dripping with seduction.  

“Yes,” Rafe replies immediately, the desperation in his voice making you smile.  

“How bad?” you purr, pulling back just enough to see his flushed face.  

“Bad,” he groans, his voice thick and raw with need.  

You tilt your head, pretending to consider. “Hm, you’ve got to convince me, sweet boy.”  

He breaks. “I need you so fucking bad,” he blurts out, his voice cracking as tears well in his eyes. “I need you to sit on my cock and fuck the shit out of me already. It hurts—I fucking need you.” The words tumble out of him, uninhibited, his desperation painted clearly on his face as a single tear escapes and slides down his cheek.  

Your heart clenches at the sight, and you soften for just a moment, cupping his face in your hands. Gently, you wipe away his tears with your thumbs, your gaze locking with his. “Okay, okay,” you soothe, your voice a mix of teasing and genuine affection. “I’ll give you what you need.”  

His eyes burn with gratitude and unrestrained hunger as you move back closer to him, your boots jingling softly with every move. The sound only heightens the tension, each chime a reminder of the game you’ve played all night. You pull him to sit back up, your body pressing against his in all the right ways.  

Without wasting another second, you position yourself, taking hold of his length and guiding him to your entrance. Slowly, deliberately, you sink down onto him, a gasp escaping your lips as he fills you completely. Rafe throws his head back, a guttural groan escaping his throat as his hands, still cuffed, flex uselessly in front of him.  

You pause for a moment, adjusting, letting the sensation of him inside you consume you. His eyes find yours, a mix of awe and raw need etched across his face. Then, with a wicked grin, you lift yourself and slam back down, earning a deep moan from him that reverberates through the room.  

“Fuck, you feel so good,” he growls, his voice rough with pleasure.  

You don’t respond, too focused on your movements. Rising and falling, you set a relentless rhythm, the bells on your boots creating a hypnotic jingle with each bounce. Your hands grip his shoulders for balance, and when that’s not enough, you reach for his neck, steadying yourself as you ride him harder, faster.  

Rafe’s hips buck beneath you, trying to meet your movements, but the cuffs keep him from taking control. “You’re killing me, baby,” he groans, his voice strained.  

“You’re mine tonight,” you breathe, leaning forward so your lips are just a whisper away from his. “And you don’t do anything unless I let you.”  

The tension between you builds, each thrust sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body. Your nails dig into his neck as you throw your head back, moaning his name. The sounds of your passion fill the room, blending with the soft chime of the bells and the steady rhythm of your bodies moving together.  

Rafe’s eyes never leave you, his gaze full of adoration and desperation. “Please, baby,” he murmurs, his voice breaking. “Let me—”  

“Not yet,” you cut him off, your movements only growing more determined. “You’ll take it until I say you’ve had enough.”

You feel the fire in your core intensifying, each thrust bringing you closer to the edge. The look in Rafe’s eyes—pure, unadulterated lust mixed with helpless devotion—only adds fuel to the fire. His chest heaves beneath you, his muscles taut as he strains against the cuffs, desperate to touch you, to take control, but completely at your mercy.  

“Fuck, you’re so big baby,” you gasp, your voice shaky as the pleasure overtakes you. Your hands grip his neck tighter for balance as your rhythm grows erratic, each bounce sending shockwaves through your body.  

Rafe groans deeply, his head falling back against the couch as his hips try to meet your movements. “You’re gonna kill me, baby,” he growls, his voice thick with need. “Let me touch you—please, I can’t—”  

“No,” you pant, cutting him off as you lean forward, your lips brushing against his ear. “This is about me and you trying to get yourself on my nice list.”  

The heat in your body reaches its peak, your movements becoming frenzied as you chase the release building within you. But it’s not enough—you need more. You slow just slightly and meet Rafe’s eyes, your breath hitching as you command, “Rub my clit, Rafe. Now.”  

His eyes widen, and a flicker of relief crosses his face as you guide his cuffed hands to your center. The moment his fingers connect with you, you shiver, his touch electric against your sensitive skin. He moves in slow, deliberate circles, the pressure perfect, and your body responds instantly.  

“Just like that,” you moan, your head falling back as your hips grind against his hand. The combined sensation of his cock inside you and his fingers expertly working your clit pushes you dangerously close to the edge.  

“Oh, fuck,” you cry out, your voice trembling as the fire in your stomach ignites into a full-blown inferno. Your walls clench around him, your body trembling as wave after wave of pleasure crashes over you. Your moans fill the room, loud and unabashed, your nails digging into his shoulders as you ride out the high.  

Rafe watches you, completely mesmerized, his own control hanging by a thread. The way your body moves, the way your face twists in pleasure—it’s enough to drive him insane.  

“God, you’re so fucking perfect,” he groans, his voice low and raw. “Fuck, I’m gonna cum.”

You slow down your movements, still riding out your high but preventing him from his. One last form of dominance as you drag out his pleasure. Grinding down onto him is painful movements.

“I need you to move,” he pleads.

“Tell me why you deserve a reward?” You giggle, mocking him slightly.

“Fuck- I’ll be so good to you. You can have all the pieces of cake. No more scaring you before bed. Do whatever you fucking want to me, just let me fucking come!” Tears form in his eyes again.

As you come down from your high, your body still shaking slightly, you glance down at him with a wicked grin. “You’ve convinced me, you’ve been so good, baby,” you murmur, leaning forward to press a soft kiss to his lips. “Now it’s your turn.”  

His eyes darken with hunger, and he lets out a relieved moan as you start moving again. This time, it’s for him, your hips rolling in a way that has him trembling beneath you.  

“Fuck, I’m so close,” he groans, his voice breaking as his hips jerk uncontrollably.  

“Come for me, Rafe,” you whisper, your voice soft but commanding. “I want to feel you lose control.”  

That’s all it takes. His head falls back, his mouth opening in a silent cry as he reaches his peak. His body tenses, his hips bucking up into you as he spills inside you, the cuffs clinking faintly as his hands flex uselessly.  

You slow your movements again, guiding him through his release, your hands moving to cup his face. His eyes flutter open, meeting yours with a look of pure adoration and exhaustion.  

“Fuck,” he breathes, a shaky laugh escaping his lips. “You’re unreal.”  

You smile softly, brushing a damp strand of hair from his forehead. “I told you, Rafe. You don’t get anything unless I say so.”  

“Then remind me to never get on your bad side,” he chuckles, his voice still thick with satisfaction.  

“I think you liked it though,” you reply through a smirk.

You press a gentle kiss to his lips, the intensity of the moment giving way to something softer. You unlock the cuffs for a final time and you both savor the quiet aftermath, your bodies tangled together on the couch, the only light coming from his small Christmas tree in the corner of his living room.

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