FIFTY TWO
❝ blood runs cold.❞
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Despite previous events, Rafe Cameron wanted to take his Ophelia and fuck her right then and there.
Bending her over the table, letting her fingernails dig into the cherry oak and let his name echo off the walls of Tannyhill. Instead, the flustered brunette was now seated next to his step mom, Rose, tearing through endless papers and bank statements.
"I can't find the account numbers." Rose tore Ophelia's attention away from the table and towards the doorway, once empty and cold now filled with Rafe's tall and muscular figure, once again clad in his father's jacket. "The account numbers, uhh." The eldest Cameron boy sang, pinching the bridge of his nose as if he was in deep thought, though the only thing playing on his mind was Ophelia. Naked. Moment's ago.
His train of thought blurring mental images of entering his girlfriend him rambling, to which Rose cut him off completely. "The Swiss accounts, Rafe. The gold."
Ophelia never cared much about the joint business between Ward and her father, Richard, nor did she care about the gold. Ophelia cared about Rafe, and in turn, cared about everything else that seemed to revolve around the Cameron boy.
Circumstances didn't change for Ophelia, ignoring the lowly hummed argument between step mother and step son, toying with the boy only a few feet away. Rafe was trying to step up and fill his father's shoes - and jacket - though couldn't help but let his gaze fall towards Ophelia.
The girl was back in her dress, pink in colour, with the straps teasing against her sun kissed shoulders. She hadn't been wearing a bra, and Rafe Cameron was licking his lips at the sight. That, and her hair was still tousled and knotted, a display of their sexual acts only moments prior.
It was then the cold, hard truth came crashing down, and Ophelia's legs closed and Rafe tore himself away from the table. The Cameron - Martin Development was in debt, and the gold was the only thing keeping the two families afloat.
Ophelia couldn't trust anyone. Her father never told her the truth, and with what he had told her, all seemed to be built up on a lie. Ward was deceased, her father was missing, and the only man who ever gave her a sense of stability slowly going off the rails.
"It can't be that bad." Rafe refused to believe Rose, whom only threw herself closer in his direction, telling the younger boy, that in fact, it was that bad. "Tell him, Ophelia." Rose begged, her eyes dancing between the couple, who's eyes always found each others.
"We have one month to come up with 1.7 million dollars." And just like that, Rafe had shoved Rose backwards, who in turn, knocked into Ophelia whom was now standing in the centre of the room. She didn't have time to react, nor time to call out who was wrong and right, Rafe standing in the doorway with heavy pants, snapping his fingers and motioning for Ophelia to come.
With her arms folded over her chest, the Martin girl stood in place, which only enraged the boy further. His skin now flushed, and hands balled into fists at his sides, let out a scream that had only one of the women flinching.
It had been hours, and all Ophelia was left with was a hole in the wall and Rose finding comfort in the Martin girl, hoping their shared experiences were enough to help the Cameron family name.
Tannyhill was dark when Ophelia made her way downstairs, the sound of her heart breaking tearing Rafe away from his nose against the table. Tears formed in the girls bright eyes, yet she couldn't cry. Ophelia wasn't sure what he felt, and then there was Rafe, who felt nothing but guilt creep its way up his spine.
Refusing to speak, Ophelia placed on hand on Rafe's back, who's flannel shirt was slick with sweat, and the other wrapped firmly around the plastic bag, tearing it away from the boy. Rafe was quick on his feet, towering over the girl with a dark, brooding stare. "What are you doing?" Rafe whispered, pressing his body up against hers, though letting his hands remain at his sides.
A form of self punishment.
"You have a problem, Rafe." Ophelia admitted, to which Rafe only closed the small distance between them. "You need help." And then, "Let me help you." The Cameron boy growled in response, one hand wrapping around the girl's waist, the other holding her in place against the table as he slammed her backside into the furniture.
Sweat lined the boys forehead, his breath fanning against the girls face. Rafe was undeniably, visibly angry, though couldn't help but melt into Ophelia, using his free hand to grab the serrated knife placed on the table top. "I don't need help." Rafe hissed, a dark stare meeting with Ophelia's large doe eyes. "I need you on my fucking side, O."
A smile tugged at the girls lips, bowing her head down to face the glistening blade against the rooms dim light. She didn't dare to speak, instead wrapped her fingers lightly around Rafe's, enclosing her own hand around the blade.
It was then something came over the Cameron boy, washing away the guilt of being caught and the anger from all the things he had ever said to upset her. Instead, he was warm all over, flushed cheeks and sweaty palms as he let go of the knife, letting Ophelia take it into her control.
God, he was turned on.
Rafe, once again, fell to his knees, raising his palms together as tears formed in his eyes, and his member grew in size. "I'm so fucking sorry." He breathed, "I'm so sorry." Rafe wasn't afraid, he knew Ophelia would never hurt him. Instead, his entire body reeked of sin. The Cameron boy had never felt so powerless, falling to his knees with a tightness in his pants, spilling out the fact that although he knew she deserved better, he could only hope she would stay.
Ophelia, using her free hand, titled the boys chin to look up towards her, then planting her lips softly to his. That was all the boy needed to jump to his feet, grabbing ahold of the knife and sink deeply into Ophelia's taste. "Who's side are you on?" The girl questioned lightly, receiving the tip of the blade against her chest. "Ours." Rafe nodded, his eyes tearing between her own, and her chest, allowing for the blade to travel lightly down her torso.
"Tell me baby, who's side are you on?" Ophelia smiled towards the boy whom towered over her, yet moments ago seemed so small bowing at her feet. Without a reply, Ophelia felt the blade press against her skin, cool metal meets burning skin dancing above her panty line.
Rafe was toying with her, and after all, she only deemed fair to play back.
"Remind me again."
Ophelia's words sent Rafe into a state of bliss, falling back to his knees and using the sharp edge of the knife to rip off the girls underwear, letting them fall lightly to the floor. The Cameron boy was torn, wanting nothing more then to taste his sweet, sweet girl, or to fill her up with the handle of the knife.
Instead, his lips pressed softly against her skin, just inches away from her heat, and dared to look up at the girl. "Relax, princess." Rafe moaned, pressing the edge of the blade against smooth skin. "This might hurt."
There was nothing painful about it - the blood running down Ophelia's thigh only meshed with her own wetness, her head thrown back in pleasure as the boy she loved carved his name into her skin, only to later match her with his own.
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Author's Note
I AM SO SORRY FOR WHAT I HAVE DONE.
I LOVE TOXIC RAFE.