THIRTY - EIGHT
❝Everything. Nothing.❞
─ ☆°•.¸☆¸.•°☆ ─
It was incredibly hot.
It was either the shower, turned on and running freely, or Ophelia herself was running a lust induced fever.
The steaming shower clouded the mirrors lining the bathroom wall, and shortly after they entered the large suite, Ophelia had been head back in the warm water, the grey shirt she had on clinging to every inch of her body.
Rafe, inhaling sharply, stepped in behind her, tugging at the hem of his shirt that fell mid thigh on Ophelia, the completely naked boy loosing all air to his lungs, tugging at Ophelia's hips roughly.
Ophelia knew what was coming. In fact, she practically had begged for it, and Rafe had wasted no time spinning the girl around, keeping her head looking up as his free hand travelled down her sides, hovering over her hip before diving up underneath her soaking wet shirt.
"Rafe." Ophelia hushed yet again, the boy struggling to keep a straight face as the corners of his lips curled upwards, a flirtatious smirk hovering over his tanned complexion. "Ophelia." Rafe mimicked, his voice low and hoarse, instantaneously lifting the fabric up and over Ophelia's head.
Rafe had seen Ophelia close too naked over a thousand times. Key word, close. Left in absolutely nothing, tanned skin glistening with the steaming hot water, Rafe had felt something he never had before.
Almost animalistic. Hungry for what was in front of him, he then realized he was absolutely, undeniably starving.
A soft kiss was pressed to Ophelia's lips, the breath taken right out of her as Rafe's hands grabbed a fistful of her hair, bringing her face closer to his. The kiss was gentle, almost so gentle Ophelia was taken back.
Soft, chaste kisses, Ophelia was then forced to her knees, Rafe's head tilting back as the warm water casted over his toned chest, falling short of Ophelia's lips as she parted them softly, a lump forming in her throat, which had soon been replaced.
Soft, heavy moans echoed off the bathroom walls, Rafe's eyes held shut firmly as his hands remained tanged in Ophelia's hair, guiding her with ease. "I needed help." Rafe spoke lowly, one hand rested on Ophelia's head, the other studying himself on the wall.
"I was nothing without you." Ophelia made her way up, soft kisses pressed to every inch of Rafe's warm body, littered with goosebumps and warm water. "Rafe." Ophelia muttered softly, to which the Cameron boy trailed his hand over the side of her face, placing his index finger over her lips.
"Shh." He spoke. "Do I have to make you keep quiet?" At a loss for words, Ophelia knew exactly where this was heading, and chose to remain silent. "I am a psychopath." Rafe admitted, one hand finding way to her backside, the other remaining it's hold on her face, one that was so fragile in his hold.
"I'm a psychopath for you, Ophelia." Rafe's eyes batted lightly, his hand trembling alongside Ophelia's face. "The things I was going to do to get you back. I needed help." A single tear fell down the boy's cheeks, noticeable even standing beneath the shower head.
"Now that I have you back, I have to be sure you're never out of my sight again." Ophelia smiled softly, her hands pressed firmly up against Rafe's chest. "I have to make sure you'll never leave me. Do you understand?"
Ophelia nodded. Simply. Though it hadn't been enough. Rafe's hand left the girls tangled hair, grabbing a firm hold of her chin, forcing her to keep her stare. "I couldn't sleep. I couldn't eat. I couldn't breath. I'm going to make you feel the pain I felt, O." Ophelia inhaled sharply, Rafe's thumb moving softly over her bottom lip.
"The difference is, you're going to enjoy every second of it." Rafe's hand gave the girls backside a rough squeeze, fingers trailing over to her hips, teasing her softly. "You would never hurt me." Ophelia spoke up, earning a satisfied smile from Rafe. "No." He replied softly, truthfully. "Not here." His hand left her face, index finger tapping lightly against her chest, right above her heart. "But here." His finger trailed softly down her torso, landing right in the middle of her stomach.
"You are going to feel me here." He whispered. "I am going to release all my anger inside of you." Ophelia's lip trembled in response. "I am going to make you beg for more. Following me around like a lost little puppy." Rafe spoke lowly. "That way, I know you're not going anywhere."
As Ophelia went to speak, Rafe's hold tightened on the girl, tears pouring from his bright eyes. "Where would I go?" Ophelia asked quietly, almost as if she spoke too loud, the boy before her would break. "I'm so afraid of loosing you again." Rafe admitted quietly. "I'm right here." Ophelia replied, pressing her lips softly to Rafe's, whom melted in her hold.
"You're here." He nodded, and pressed another kiss to her lips. "You're not going anywhere." This time, Ophelia nodded, and yet another kiss. "I'm not asking." Rafe ordered, his gentle touch replaced with force, and in admittance, Ophelia had enjoyed it. "I'm telling you." He spat. "You're not going anywhere."
Rafe's hands guided Ophelia out of the shower, the water remaining to run as he slammed her up against the bathroom counter, tugging at her legs as he sat her upon the ceramic, head throwing back against the steamed mirror.
His lips, hovering over hers, though seeming so far, smiled lightly at her touch. "I don't want to hear a word from you, unless you're screaming my name." Without further hesitation, Rafe's head dipped in between the girls legs, either wrapped around his shoulders as he filled his hunger, every moan and curse word leaving Ophelia's dry mouth only encouraging him further.
One minute, her back wiped away at the clouded mirror, the next, she was carried into the boys bedroom where she was thrown onto his bed, his once light coloured eyes growing dark in anticipation.
"Like the back of my bike." Rafe hovered over Ophelia's naked figure, his eyes failing to remain on her eyes. Instead, they roamed over her figure, chest rising and falling with each heavy breaths, her fingertips grabbing ahold of his silver chain, tugging him closer. "What?" Ophelia questioned softly, the boy pressing his lips to hers.
"I want you to ride me." He let out a heavy breath. "Like the back of my bike."
Before Ophelia could hesitate, Rafe wound his hands underneath the girl's back, flipping her on top of him, his own back, sweaty and damp, pressed up against his dark coloured sheets. "Get on." He instructed, Ophelia's lips curling upwards.
The sun was begging to peak over the water, hues of pinks and orange flooding through the rather dark coloured room, yet all Rafe could seem to admire was Ophelia. Damp strands of dark hair sticking to her face, her tongue, ever so often running over her bottom lip. Her hands, clawing at the boys porcelain chest.
Her legs grew numb, Rafe's tight hold on her neck keeping her pushing forwards, and then back, and then forwards again. Ophelia was in pure bliss, her ears ringing with the sound of Rafe's hoarse moans, she almost never wanted it to end.
"Ophelia." Rafe's head titled back, a mess upon the cushioned pillows, his eyes rolling into the back of his head. One hand around her neck, the other gripping her hip so roughly, the markings of bruises matching his fingers curled around her skin.
"Ophelia." Rafe hissed yet again, shifting underneath the girl as he rose from the bed, keeping his hold on the girl as he slammed his lips to hers, pressing his sweat filled forehead against hers.
"My Ophelia." He whispered softly, tugging her into his chest as he came to his high, Ophelia letting out a breath she hadn't been aware she was holding in. "Did you feel that?" Rafe smiled, one hand resting on the bed for support, the other cupping her cheek in his hold, thumb softly caressing the soft skin belonging to her face.
"That was me inside of you." Rafe pressed his lips to Ophelia's. "That was me reminding you who you belong too."
Ophelia, dazed and confused, smiled softly, her own hands wrapping around Rafe's face, bringing their lips back together again. "I'll be damned if we're ever apart again." Ophelia admitted. "I'm a psychopath, O." Rafe replied with ease, to which Ophelia's head tilted back in laughter.
"My psychopath." Ophelia's swollen lips curled upwards. "Say it again." Rafe ordered, his gentle hold growing rough, yet never enough to make her wince in pain. "You're mine, Rafe Cameron, and I swear to you that I am not going anywhere."
Rafe, smiling through the tears, couldn't help but push her damp locks to the side, marking up the side of her neck in order to state his claim, one despite already having, wanted to make it very clear.
"I don't need help, Ophelia." Rafe spoke soft in the crook of her neck, littered with dark coloured bruises beginning to form. "I just needed you." Ophelia smiled, only to yet come down from her high.
"Well, it's a good thing my finger prints are everywhere your's may be found." Rafe, face lighting up, couldn't help but fall more in love with Ophelia. He had every single moment of every day. "There's a gun that needs to be found." Rafe exhaled softly. "And what would a psychopath be without his accomplice?"
Ophelia smiled lightly, chaste kisses pressed firmly to her lips. "What would you be without me?" Ophelia asked softly, sinking deep into Rafe's gentle hold. "Nothing, baby." He exhaled. "I would be nothing without you, Ophelia Martin."
─ ☆°•.¸☆¸.•°☆ ─
Author's Note
RAFE SMUT. I REPEAT. RAFE SMUT.
Bare with me. This took me HOURS to write. I promise, there will be more to come.
WHY DOES THE GIF LOOK SO MUCH LIKE RAFE.
ENJOY.