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You think it might be a good idea to stop running Thomas’ errands for him moving forward.
Previously, it had been a convenient excuse to spend some extra time with Rafayel without the stifling pressure of the press around him that he hates. To see him drop that aloof, uncaring facade a little and dig a bit deeper into who he really is. It had always been something you looked forward to.
But something is off this time. Rafayel has a firm grasp on your wrist and he’s staring up at you beneath his long, long lashes with half lidded eyes. Your heart jumps in your throat as he deeply inhales the scent of the perfume on your wrist with a low groan.
“What is this weird perfume?” His words are slightly slurred and the heat radiating from his cheeks and skin has your mind whirring. He looks inebriated. And it’s a little unfair how prettily his cheeks flush, warm and pink.
Being with him like this is dangerous and you wonder if you should have thought twice about Thomas’ request this time. It feels like you’re toeing a line that probably shouldn’t be crossed, though you’re not sure how you got here to begin with.
“Are you alright?” you ask softly after a few moments of silence, feeling all sorts of befuddled and more than a little guilty for the staggering amount of inappropriate thoughts conjured by the sound of him practically panting against your wrist.
Rafayel closes his eyes, looking like, for all the world, a man one strong puff of air blown his way from toppling over as he staggers on his feet a bit. You step a little closer to him to lend him some form of physical support as he sways in place, and when he opens his eyes to peer up at you again, his brows furrow.
“This must be some sort of allergic reaction,” he says as he tugs at the collar of his shirt to cool himself a bit. He sounds disgruntled now. “This isn’t perfume. How dare they use such underhanded methods to trap me…”
You have no idea what he’s referring to and he looks at you in accusation. You stare back, bewildered.
”Who sent it? Who gave you the perfume?”
You shake your head and press your palm to his cheek. He’s burning up.
“I just picked one at random from the exhibit, Rafayel,” you explain. He leans into the coolness of your hand and sighs a bit at the sensation. You swallow thickly at the sound.
It’s not the first time, nor will it be the last, that you find Rafayel attractive. But it’s never been such a devastatingly strong feeling in his actual presence. You’re a little embarrassed even at how each wrecked noise he makes sends your pulse throbbing in your core.
“Rafayel, are you drunk?” you finally work up the mental capacity to question him.
Rafayel nuzzles your hand and grumbles at you. “I’m not drunk, I just don’t like this scent.”
His breathing is labored and hot against the skin of your wrist. As his mouth presses firmly against your palm and his tongue comes out to taste the salt off of your skin, a strained moan rises from his throat.
“Rafayel…” It hits you then, like a freight train, and you aren’t sure how you didn’t realize it sooner. He’s not drunk, not in the typical fashion. He’s literally intoxicated off of your scent. The perfume must be some sort of Lemurian aphrodisiac.
You try to tug your hand back once more only for Rafayel to lean in closer, breath fanning against your neck where you know you applied more perfume earlier.
“Rafayel, wait—“
It’s as if he can’t hear you as he noses along the length of your neck and breathes in another lungful of the scent. His groan reverberates through you, the sound of it so much closer than before now that he’s got his face pressed against your collarbones. It sends arousal zinging through you.
He backs you up against the couch behind you and you drop to it as your legs hit the cushions.
I’ve got to stop this, you think. You’ve basically drugged him and there’s no way for him to consent to whatever it is he’s doing. You shimmy away from him slightly, trying to make space so you can clear your own head and figure out where to go from here. But Rafayel gives you what can only be described as a whimpering plea as he tugs you closer again and licks along the seam of your jaw and neck, kneeling before you on the couch.
You can’t help the high pitched whine that breaks from you at that, especially as he presses his lips to the skin of your jaw and maps searing kisses across the expanse of your neck down to your collarbone. You squeeze your legs together, working to keep the overwhelming arousal at bay.
“Please,” he murmurs. “I need… something.” Rafayel leans into you, pressing you into the couch and forcing your legs apart with his weight.
His breath hitches as his lower body brushes against you and he fully settles himself between your thighs. Your skirt rides up, hiding very little at this point.
“Rafayel, st—“
“I need you,” Rafayel’s moan interrupts you. He circles his fingers around your wrist and lifts it to his shoulder.
You go still as his hips roll, pressing his very obvious, very firm erection against your core. Holy fuck, you think. He’s grinding against you.
You’re mortified by the wetness pooling between your legs in response to his actions. Your panties are slick against you and it’s only a matter of minutes before that wetness will soak through Rafayel’s pants given how little fabric rests between the two of you now.
“Rafayel, wait,” you plead. Your fingers dig into the curve of his shoulder. “This isn’t… You’re not in your right mind right now.”
Rafayel lifts his head up to gaze at you, his unfocused eyes meeting yours. He grinds against you once more.
“I want you so badly.”
Your heart jumps at the admission but you shake your head, pushing at his shoulders with little strength.
“It’s some kind of aphrodisiac, Rafayel. You don’t mean it.”
Rafayel settles back on his knees while trying to keep as many points of contact with you as possible. One of his hands slips beneath the hem of your skirt, his fingers brushing against your silky thigh.
“I know what it is.” His tone is petulant and he pauses, mouth forming around words before closing. He seems to be struggling to get out what he wants to say.
His fingers brush ever so higher, mere inches from the soaked fabric of your undergarments.
His other hand drops from where he’d been tugging at the collar of his shirt to palm at his erection. He groans and you bite your lip to keep your own reaction to yourself. Your thighs twitch.
Rafayel forces himself to breathe in a few heaving breaths as he figures out how to speak and you look anywhere but at him.
“It doesn’t make me want you,” he finally forces out. “I just don’t have control.”
Subconsciously, your legs spread wider at the breathy sound of his voice. Rafayel’s nostrils flare at the sight.
“What does that… mean?” you ask with your heart pounding in your ears. “You don’t want me but can’t control your actions?” You aren’t sure you want to know the answer— to hear that he doesn’t want you specifically.
But you need him to think this through. He’s starting to sound a bit more cognizant the longer you speak.
“Ah, no,” he breathes out and you watch as he rolls his hips up against his own hand. “No. God, I want you so badly. I’ve always wanted you, silly girl. I don’t know how you couldn’t tell. I just don’t have the control to deny myself it right now.”
You’re trembling now, heat high in your cheeks and spreading across your chest. The confession hits you hard, that what you’ve wondered after months of lingering touches and heated glances was right. And there’s relief there, too, at the knowledge that the want isn’t fabricated.
His fingers drag against the curve of your ass and he’s so close now.
“Then would you…?” you begin, unsure of what exactly you’re trying to ask and insanely distracted by his roaming hand. But Rafayel seems to know anyways and his voice is strained when he speaks.
“If you’re about to ask me if I’ll regret this… I can’t tell you how many times I’ve had my hand wrapped around my own cock, picturing you just like this beneath me. I’ve wanted to bend you over this couch more times than I can say and I’ve imagined—“
He cuts himself off on a sharp intake of breath as his fingers finally glide against the wetness of your panties. He shudders before going completely still aside from the rapid rise and fall of his shoulders as he breathes.
“You’re so wet,” he moans brokenly.
He closes his eyes and you watch as he silently counts down from ten, his pretty lips forming around each number. He’s shaking with the effort of keeping still.
Rafayel’s voice is even more strangled when he speaks next. “Please tell me you want this.”
He opens his eyes to stare down at you, his gaze molten. “Because I really don’t think I can hold myself back anymore if you stay here looking like this.”
You swallow audibly and notice how his eyes graze over you, from your face, down your torso and to the skirt hiked up above your thighs now.
Of course you want this. You’ve wanted him from the first time he opened his mouth to speak to you, maddeningly irritating but irresistibly charming. The nights you’ve spent with your hand between your legs, thinking of riding him until he begs for mercy amongst other things are limitless at this point.
He’s aggravatingly sexy without even bothering to be and he drives you up a wall in the best kind of way. You’d be stupid to turn this down, you think. You’re contemplating how exactly to say that when Rafayel practically whimpers.
“You can do what you want but please don’t leave me waiting for an answer,” he pleads. He’s so needy.
Instead of answering your assent verbally— you’re not sure if you can form a coherent sentence— you grab the hand he has palming himself and drag it painstakingly slowly up your torso. Rafayel’s gaze narrows onto your face and you give him a serpentine smile as you continue to lift his hand until his fingers graze your breast.
Rafayel sucks air in, hand shaking slightly now as he moves it up to cup you over your clothing.
And then, as if he suddenly understands that this is your consent, he surges towards you, mouth finding yours immediately as he finally, finally kisses you.
It’s like a dam has broken.
Kissing Rafayel is like talking to Rafayel— infuriatingly teasing and full of fire. It’s hot and wet, his tongue against the seam of your lips almost immediately as he swipes it into your mouth and along your own. He sucks at your tongue, and your teeth clack together just slightly as he shifts so he can grind down against you again.
He pulls back slightly to nip at your lower lip, teasing it between his teeth before sucking at that too. Then he slots his lips fully against yours once again.
You hook your legs around his waist and use the anchoring point to help roll your own hips up against him. He’s so hard and the press of him against your clit, even through your panties, has you moaning into his mouth.
One of his hands comes to your waist, angling your hips just so to lift you against him again and again. His mouth parts from yours on a gasp and your chest heaves with the effort of breathing after that intoxicating kiss.
“Wanna fuck you,” he pants. “Wanna taste you until you’re begging for more and then fuck you into this couch so hard that you cum on my cock.”
Fuck.His mouth, constantly running to begin with under normal circumstances, is filthy now. If this is how he sounds just from a bit of kissing, you can’t imagine what he must sound like with his cock inside of something.
You wonder if he realizes the effect it has— if it’s something he picked up on purpose just to drive his lovers wild or if it’s just the natural progression from his typical, chatty self.
He shifts back and you catch sight of his small, sly smile and recognize immediately that it’s on purpose then.
Knowing that makes you want to be a little mean.
You lift your hand from his shoulder to grip a fistful of his purple hair and yank. Rafayel hisses in pain but you watch the arousal flicker through his eyes, pleased with yourself.
“Is that how we’re doing this, Miss Bodyguard?” he asks, and his voice has dropped even lower. Everything inside of you throbs at his tone, feeling wholly empty and craving the slide of him in and out of you.
When your only response is a raised eyebrow and innocent smile, there’s no hesitation from Rafayel as he tangles his fingers into your own hair and pulls.
Hard.
You yelp at the sensation and retaliate, tugging him down by his purple locks until his mouth is a hair’s breadth from yours. He closes the distance to lick into your mouth and, after shifting to put just enough space between your bodies, uses the hand at your waist now to slip his fingers beneath the hem of your panties.
He snaps the fabric of them against your clit, once, twice, before you pull his hair again, a signal to stop teasing, and he laughs into your mouth. He takes the hint, though, and dips his thumb into your entrance. The breach of just that one digit isn’t enough and you wriggle to make that point clear as you bite at Rafayel’s lower lip.
He takes his time despite this, thumb pressing in and out at the slowest pace imaginable. You whine against his lips and you can feel his grin against your own in response.
“Seems like you want something, hmmm?” he drawls after pulling back from the kiss.
Your hand falls from his hair and you stare up at him, noticing how swollen his lips are from kissing you.
“You’ll have to ask nicely for what you want.” He smiles serenely at you, and instead of giving you anything more, pulls his thumb from you and reaches up to suck it into his mouth. His eyes close and he hums at the taste of you on his finger.
God, you feel so empty.
But two can play at that game, you realize. You purse your lips together and harumph before shimmying away from him enough to close your legs. You sniff daintily while glancing across the room at the clock on the wall.
“I’m not sure I have the time for this, then,” you say airily. You lift yourself up into a sitting position in front of him and begin fixing the wrinkles in your clothing and smoothing out your hair.
A panicked look crosses Rafayel’s face and he reaches out towards you, encircling both of your wrists in one of his hands.
“Wait, no, don’t go,” he exclaims breathily. There’s a flush high on his cheeks and his brows furrow as he tries to figure out how to proceed.
You give him a once over, eyes falling from the mess of his open collar to the tent of his slacks where his erection is straining against the zipper. Your mouth waters at the sight— there’s no way he’s not sizeable beneath his pants if what you see now is any indication. But you stick to your act despite the want coursing through your veins at the very sight of him.
“I don’t know, Rafayel,” you hum. “Seems like the one here between the two of us who needs this most is you. Why should I be the one begging?”
His lips part to suck in a surprised breath and he swallows audibly. It seems he knows where you’re going with this by the darkening of his gaze and the lowering of his head. You watch in silence as he stands from the couch before dropping to his knees before you, his gaze honed in on the apex of your thighs now hidden by your skirt.
One of his hands comes up to brush against your knee, coaxing your legs open just enough to shift between them. He lifts his face towards you, eyes half lidded and gaze unfocused.
“You want me to beg?”
The way he says it has you clenching around nothing. You hope this isn’t about to backfire in your face because you’re not sure you could live if he were to stop now.
You feign haughtiness as you stare down at him on his knees. “Beg,” you command.
You think he’s not going to do it— that he’s about to call your bluff. You watch as one corner of his mouth lifts into a smile and he throws his head back to laugh breathily. He presses a single kiss to the exposed skin of your thigh and you wait in anticipation. The silence is almost overwhelming. You can hear your heartbeat thudding in your ears and the air between the two of you is heated and still.
And then Rafayel groans, resting his warm face against your leg. “Please,” he whispers.
The answering arousal that zings through you at just that almost hurts.
When you say nothing in response, he turns his face up towards you again, eyebrows knitted together and lower lip jutting out in the smallest pout as he repeats himself. “Please.”
Your breath is shallow and fast when you reply. “Please… what…? What do you want, Rafayel?”
He wets his lips with his tongue and then whines. “Please, let me taste you. I want to put my mouth on you, make you cum with my tongue. Please.” The tips of his ears are red, hinting at how flustered he must really be at being forced to beg.
You breathe in slowly, eyes falling shut as you force yourself to not moan at his words and when you open your eyes, Rafayel is still there, staring up at you pleadingly.
You nod.
“Okay,” you whisper, not trusting yourself to say anything beyond that.
Rafayel’s breath whooses out of him and he leans forward, nosing along your thigh now as he uses his hands on your legs to pull you closer to the edge of the couch.
He tugs aside the fabric of your panties with a finger and you can feel his hot breath against your sex.
“So wet. So pretty,” Rafayel marvels in a quiet, reverent voice.
He presses a small kiss against your clit and gives an exploratory lick. You exhale harshly.
His tongue laves against you broadly, from your entrance up to the apex of your pussy a few times before he laps slowly at your clit.
And then he’s eating you out with fervor.
His tongue circles your clit, pointed strokes against the sensitive nub and your hand finds its way to his hair again. You’re gentler this time when you tug but Rafayel groans nonetheless and sucks at your clit, tongue softly pulsing against it as he does.
Two of his slender fingers press against your entrance again and you keen when he plunges them in deeply.
You fall back against the couch, head lolling as you let out a low moan. The hot wetness of his tongue feels divine and you can’t help the way your thighs quake already. Of course he’d be good at this.
He sets a pace like this, fingers driving in and out of you as he focuses his mouth at your clit for the next few minutes. His fingers are so long and when he curls them, you go rigid.
“Ah, there,” you moan. The pads of his fingers rub against that spongy spot inside of you and as he drags them out slowly while brushing against it, you gasp.
He pulls back just for a moment to speak, fingers still pumping inside of you. “You taste so good.” His voice sounds as ruined as you feel.
He mouths at your clit again and sets a quicker pace with not only his fingers, but his wet, warm tongue. He flickers it side to side against the nub as he slips a third finger into you and pistons his digits in and out rapidly. The stretch feels delicious.
He curls his fingers again, finding that spot within you instantaneously and your back bows off the couch. He’s going to make you cum.
“Rafayel,” you moan. “So close, I’m so close.”
He changes hardly anything, keeping the pace of his fingers steady and the point of his tongue flicking against you just as quickly. But when he sucks your clit into his mouth and pulses that suction once again, you let out a cry. Heat tingles at the base of your scalp before spreading outwards and down your entire body.
You go still, hips just barely rolling up into his mouth as you climax around his fingers with a silent groan.
He licks you through it, fingers slowing as he milks the orgasm for all its worth. When your tiny hip movements start rolling away from his mouth instead of towards it, he pulls back.
You breathe heavily, slowly relaxing into the pillows of the couch as you come down from that high. You pat at Rafayel’s hair, smoothing down where your fingers had been curled into it seconds before.
Rafayel takes a few moments then, panting against the wet mess he’s made of you before glancing up at your face. His lips are slick with your fluid and you watch as his tongue drags across them to catch some of the liquid there.
And then he lifts the three fingers that had been inside of you moments ago to his mouth to clean them as well, smiling up at you as he does.
God, what it must be like to know you’re the hottest man alive.
You catch sight of a peek of his tongue as he licks between them and despite the orgasm that had wracked through you moments ago, you know you’re ready to go again.
Rafayel moves to stand then and you watch as he thumbs at the button of his slacks. You sit up straighter, eyes zeroed in on the hand working open his pants. There’s a wet spot at the crotch of them and you’re not sure if it’s from him or you.
His eyes are on you as you watch him slowly unzip his pants and tug both them and his boxer briefs down just enough to free his straining cock.
Your tongue darts out to wet your lips at the sight of his aching, weeping dick. He’s long— longer than you anticipated at least— and thick. Precum dribbles from the tip and his cock bobs at your scrutinization.
“Fuck,” you moan, finally, and Rafayel drags his palm across the wetness gathering at his cock head and smears it down the shaft.
He smirks, almost a little shyly but not enough to make him seem anything but confident, and steps closer to you. That air of neediness coming from him is gone now, replaced by a man who knows he’s about to get what he wants.
“I don’t need to beg this time, do I?” he asks, voice lilting and more than a little smug. It seems that pulling an orgasm from you has given him the audacity to be a bit of a bastard.
“You’ll let me bend you over this couch now and fuck you, won’t you?” The hand at his cock wraps around it, stroking lightly and the other hand finds your chin, tilting your face up so that you look him in the eyes.
You suppose you deserve this, having made him beg earlier. You’re surprised that’s not what he’s asking of you now, demanding you get on your knees to grovel up at him. You wouldn’t put it past him to ask it at least. Even if he wouldn’t enforce it if you refused.
“Or should I make you beg instead? You were so mean earlier,” he sulks with a tsk . And there it is,you think.
“Maybe we should just stop here. You’ve gotten what you want. I can always take care of myself if you’re going to be so demanding.”
You shake your head rapidly the moment the words leave his mouth. He’s goading you and you know it, but you don’t want to stop here. You want him inside you so badly.
Your voice is strained when you reply, “I won’t be mean.” You’ll promise it if you have to.
Rafayel hums, as if he’s contemplating whether or not he should continue and in a stroke of pure genius, you dip your chin and catch his index and ring fingers with your mouth. You suck them in, swirling your tongue around them, and Rafayel hisses quietly.
“You’re not playing fair, Miss Bodyguard.”
You glance up at him from beneath your lashes as you continue to suckle at his fingers and when Rafayel withdraws them, you barely register the string of saliva connecting them to your mouth still.
Rafayel squeezes the base of his cock and groans. “Why don’t you get on your knees for me?” he finally asks.
You do as instructed, albeit a little begrudgingly at being told what to do, dropping from the couch to your knees immediately. You reach up to grip at one of his still clothed thighs and lean forward, breath ghosting along the shaft of his dick.
The hand that had been at your chin rests at the back of your head now and Rafayel brushes the head of his cock against your lips. There’s more precum now and you press a few kitten licks to the tip, savoring the saltiness of it, before he pushes it just past the ring of your lips.
You open your mouth to accommodate the thickness of him and he guides your head down until his cock is sliding into your mouth fully and then hitting the back of your throat. You gag a little, eyes watering and the pressure of his hand remains steady on your scalp. He pets at your hair, a sweet gesture amidst the fire of the rest of this interaction, trying to coax you into relaxing.
You breathe in a few times through your nose, grounding yourself, and once the reflex disappears, you give an experimental bob of your head.
Rafayel moans in approval at that, and you flatten your tongue against his shaft. You drag back until he’s almost out of your mouth and then dip forward until he’s all the way down your throat again.
His fingers tighten in your hair and you swallow around his length. Rafayel groans when you begin to set a rhythm, sliding the entirety of his cock in and out of your mouth repeatedly.
The weight of him against your tongue is insistent and hot, and you lose yourself in the mindlessness of moving your mouth along his length, over and over. He makes the softest gasps and pants that only fuel you into swallowing around his cock and whining at the feel of it.
You hollow your cheeks out on a particular up stroke and he grips your hair more firmly, holding you in place as he starts to thrust into the cavern of your mouth.
“Your mouth is too good,” Rafayel chokes out his praise. You can feel his cock throb against your tongue as he picks up the speed of his hips.
His dick hits the back of your throat repeatedly and you focus on relaxing the muscles of it, allowing him to stuff himself fully down it as he begins to fuck your mouth in earnest. Your mouth is full of saliva and you can taste the salt of his precum as his cock slides along your tongue again and again.
You whimper out a moan around him and he must feel the vibrations of it because he responds in kind. Your panties, already soaked before, are now uncomfortably wet against your pussy as you grind down against your own hand.
Rafayel curses when he catches sight of you shamelessly rubbing against yourself and pulls you off of his cock by your hair. You chase after him with a dazed noise, tongue reaching out to lap at the head of it again before he strengthens his grip a tad more to hold you still.
“I won’t have the means to fill you up if it’s all over your face,” he chastises with a bit of a whine, and fuck, if that isn’t the hottest thing you’ve heard him say yet.
Rafayel steps back, letting the hand in your hair drop so that he can offer it to you to help you up from where you’re kneeling on the ground. You take it and stand, far more gracefully than you feel with trembling thighs and a throbbing core. The emptiness there aches and the desperation of wanting him inside of you must show on your face because Rafayel huffs out a laugh.
“We’re getting there, darling.”
He reaches underneath your skirt, fingers hooking in your panties, and tugs them down until he can almost see them. “Hmm, should we leave these on? What a pretty sight that must be— your dripping pussy on display, barely hidden by the fabric of these pulled down just below your ass.”
Your cheeks flush at his description. “Such a dirty mouth,” you complain without much heat and Rafayel dips his head down to lick into your mouth, kissing you deeply for a few moments.
“You clearly like it,” he comments when he pulls away, studying the punch-drunk look on your face with no small amount of amusement.
You have nothing to say in response to that without admitting that, God, yes, you do like his mouth, talking and all, more than a reasonable amount. So you blow out a breath and shift closer to him, hand seeking out his cock to stroke it languidly a few times.
He must decide to keep your panties on the way he described, because he stops toying with them. Instead, one of his hands comes up to slip beneath your shirt and strapless bra to cup your breast as he leans forward to kiss you again.
You can taste yourself on his tongue still, and you wonder if the same is true for him. His thumb brushes against your nipple and you stifle a moan into his mouth at the sensation alighting your nerves. His other hand is now at the clasp of your bra, working it open in seconds and dropping it to the floor.
With that bit of fabric out of the way, Rafayel rolls the nub of your nipple between his thumb and forefinger, pinching it lightly. You cry out and your hips stutter, seeking out friction to soothe the ache that accompanies the feeling zipping to your core.
He crowds into you, backing you up against the couch behind you again, and just before your knees hit it, he pulls back from the kiss and spins you so you’re facing it.
“Bend over,” he says— demands, really— and there’s only a moment’s hesitation before you comply. Your pussy throbs at the emptiness that’s still there and you whine, so close to asking him to please, please, just put his cock inside you.
You can feel the weight of the couch dip as Rafayel settles one of his knees onto it behind you. He’s lining himself up with your entrance and you almost sob in relief at the idea of him filling you up.
But that’s as far as it gets.
Rafayel rubs himself against the wetness there for a few seconds, then uses his thumb to spread open your entrance. You clench around nothing, and Rafayel practically sighs in reverence at the sight of it.
“Such a pretty hole.”
You flush darkly at the vulgar words.
You’re so wet— you have literally never been wetter in your life— and you’re aching and god, you want him so, sobadly. But Rafayel just grinds the tip of his dick against your clit while holding your entrance open with his thumb. He seems to be waiting for something.
“Rafayel,” you whine. Rafayel hums in question at you but doesn’t move to do anything besides rub himself against you.
You make a disgruntled noise and shift your hips back against him, trying desperately to get him inside of you.
“Ah-ah,” Rafayel warns. “This is payback for earlier.”
You drop your head to your forearms resting on the couch and groan in frustration.
“Rafayel, please. Do you want me to beg?”
You can hear the laughter in his voice when he responds.
“Of course I do.”
You whip your head around to glare at him, and the shit eating grin curling at the corner of his lips infuriates you.
“Yes, Miss Bodyguard?” he asks as he presses his thumb slightly deeper. “How can I help you today?” His tone is light and playful, like he doesn’t have his cock against your clit and a finger shoved into you.
You swallow down your rising pride. He knows exactly what buttons to press with you and there’s no winning here. Either you give him the satisfaction of begging or the satisfaction of arguing— he lives for both.
“Please, Rafayel,” you finally say and Rafayel withdraws his thumb and lines himself up with your entrance, just teasing there.
“Please what? How am I supposed to know what you want if you aren’t clear, hm?”
You blow out a frustrated breath from your nose. His cockhead dips just barely into your entrance before slipping out. “Please fuck me, Rafayel.” How you manage to say it without faltering is beyond you.
Rafayel hums again, contemplative this time. “You don’t sound like you want it very much.”
He begins to withdraw and you quickly turn around to give him a near hysterical look. “Rafayel,” you beg. “ Please.I want you inside me so badly. Please fuck me.”
Rafayel presses back in towards you, circling his cock against your hole now and letting it slip barely inside. Your walls tighten around him, body working on its own to suck him inside.
But Rafayel just pulls out again.
“You really want it?”
You huff in exasperation and lift your ass higher to give him a better look at what he’s missing out on.
“Obviously! Can you please, please just give it to me alread—“
There’s no warning before he sheathes himself inside you, tip to base, in one rapid thrust.
You actually do sob in relief at the feeling of being filled, stuffed so full of his cock that you see stars. Your pussy clenches around him, drawing him in as deep as it can. He fits so snugly inside of you, every perfect inch stretching the walls of you wide and that feeling of emptiness— that deep, insatiable ache— dissipates finally.
Rafayel throws his head back and moans at the sensation of your insides clamping around him like a soft, wet vice. He gives you a handful of moments to adjust— for you to acclimate to his girth— and then he moves.
The shift of his cock inside you burns in all the right ways as he pulls himself out almost entirely before fucking back into you roughly. He does this twice more before his hands grip at your waist firmly and he uses that leverage to pull you back against his cock, fucking you on it.
“You’re so tight ,” he praises with a groan and one of his hands comes around to paw at you. His fingers expertly find your clit and he works it in tandem with your thrusts, circling it at the same speed.
The glide of him against your walls is electric, setting you ablaze from the inside out. He rolls his hips smoothly, expertly, and you feel as if you’re being driven crazy from how fucking good he is.
You take the initiative to situate yourself in a more upright position so you can rut back against him yourself, to let him see how good it feels to be fucked. Rafayel hisses at the shift of your pussy around him and leans forward to nose along the shell of your ear.
“God, you’re better than I could have ever imagined. You feel so good wrapped around me. You’re so wet, so tight.” He’s babbling now, mouth just next to your ear as he creates a steady rhythm of fucking into you while you bounce back against him.
The hand at your waist slides up along your torso and around to brush his fingers against your nipple again. The stimulation is almost too much. The sound of flesh against flesh fills the air and the obscene squelching of his cock driving into you repeatedly warms your face.
“You’re so perfect. If I’d have known it was this good I’d have begged you sooner. Wanna stay like this forever, fucking you until your insides are molded to the shape of me. Gonna fill you up, pump you full of my cum.”
His filthy words send heat flaring through you. Even knowing about his obscene mouth doesn’t take away the surprise of how explicit his words are and how much they affect you. You can feel yourself dripping as he impales you on his cock.
You moan out his name at a particularly deep thrust, falling forward a bit, and the hand at your breast lifts to hold the base of your neck firmly. Not choking, just holding you upright as he fucks you harder. He’s found that overwhelmingly good spot with his cock now, and he grinds into it rapidly, sending you closer and closer to the precipice of orgasm.
“Yes, yes, ” you chant. “Right there, please. Feels so good, Rafayel.”
Rafayel ruts into the same spot, over and over until you’re panting his name again and again. You’re so damn close, just need a little bit more and then you’ll come.
Rafayel’s cock is so good, so thick and hot and it’s your turn to babble out praise senselessly as he pistons his hips into you. God, you want to come, you want to come so bad.
“Please,” you choke out, at the very precipice of it. “Please, please, please.”
Rafayel moans, mouth still at your ear. “Yeah, good girl. Just like that, cum for me, cum on my cock,” he murmurs and with that, your walls spasm, clenching around him as you tumble off that cliff into the most devastating orgasm you’ve ever had. Every muscle in your body tightens as the feeling of it wracks through you, sending pulse after pulse of it to the very tips of your being.
Rafayel’s hot breath is searing against your ear as he fucks you through the frenzy of your climax. Your vision goes dark at the edges from the intensity of it and Rafayel continues to jackhammer his hips against yours. It’s too much, too fast suddenly. You start to whine at the overstimulation of it and he drops the speed of his thrusts while mouthing along your shoulder.
“So good,” he whispers against your skin. “Feels so good when you cum like that.” You slowly come back to your senses, vision smoothing out again and your muscles relaxing. He’s still hard inside you, throbbing and the sensual way he kisses the knob of your spine makes you shiver. He hasn’t come yet.
You’re grateful for the moment of reprieve, but after a few more seconds of catching your breath, the greedy part of you that wants to feel him lose himself in you, to fill you up as he had said, reawakens. You bounce back against him, letting him know you’re ready for more.
“So insatiable,” Rafayel laughs breathlessly, but he’s not complaining as he rolls his hips forward again, bottoming out inside of you once more. “Is this how you want it again?”
You swallow and shake your head, pulling forward so he’s not as far inside of you. If he gets the chance to get going like this again, you don’t know that you’d be able to stop. You circle your hips slowly, letting his cock drag against your fluttering walls as you consider your options.
Rafayel speaks before you get the chance to decide. “Why don’t we see how flexible you are?”
When you give him an inquisitive look, he slips his cock out of you, leaving you clenching around nothing again— empty. So damn empty.
You’re not sure how you’re going to live anymore without his cock inside of you at all times.
“Let’s get you on your back.”
You shuffle around, curious what he has in mind and just before you’re about to lay down, Rafayel tugs at the hem of your shirt. Without saying anything, he pulls it up and over your head, exposing your breasts to the cool air of the room. He’s been inside of you, but you still move to cover your breasts, feeling oddly more exposed than before.
Rafayel catches your wrists to prevent you from doing that and leads your hands to the buttons of his own shirt. His cardigan had come off much earlier and you work the shirt open quickly to uncover the rest of his chest and abs. He shrugs out of it once it’s fully unbuttoned and leans down to glide his lips against yours in a soft kiss.
“Have I mentioned how gorgeous you are yet?” he asks as he presses you into the couch. His gaze is so intense on yours that you have to glance away. He takes the chance to grip your ankles, pulling them both up above his shoulders and you suddenly understand what he meant by testing your flexibility.
“You’ve mentioned something of mine being pretty a few times now,” you hum and Rafayel’s ears go pink again. You’re starting to recognize a pattern here with the blushing— that he can dish it, but can’t take it. You tuck that knowledge away for the future.
He pretends to ignore what you said and tugs at the fabric of your panties. They’re still pulled halfway down your thighs and Rafayel now lifts them up the length of your legs until they’re off of you. He discards them on the floor and then circles one of his hands around your ankles to push them towards you so he can stare down at your gleaming entrance.
The scrutiny has your insides clenching and Rafayel must be able to see that because he makes a noise of appreciation. You’re sure you’re still stretched wide enough.
He takes his cock in his free hand and drags it along your sex and you have a quick moment of panic, thinking he’s going to keep you waiting again— or worse, make you beg. Rafayel chuckles, clearly privy to your thoughts, and does the opposite of your concern as he pushes into you.
When his cock breaches your entrance this time, the slide feels so much fuller at this angle with your thighs clenched together and Rafayel’s weight bearing down on you.
He takes his time, each thrust deliberate and agonizing. It gives you the time to really focus on the glide of his cock against each ridge inside of you. You’re so full.
Rafayel does something with his hips, rolling them like a dancer might, and his cock curves inside of you, dragging along parts of you you aren’t sure you’ve ever been able to reach before. You keen at the feeling of it, thoughts going muddled.
Rafayel’s eyes are on yours when you finally glance back up at his face and you force yourself to hold his gaze this time. He plunges into you again and again, and you watch as his expression slackens, his mouth falling open at the feeling of your silken pussy throbbing around him.
He’s oddly quiet now and you lift a hand to his face, brushing your thumb along his lips. He kisses the pad of it as it passes by and then sucks in a harsh breath when you purposefully clench around him tighter.
“Such unfair tactics.” He speaks finally and you can hear the unraveling of his voice even with such a few words. The slowness of this, the ability to just feel, must be affecting him too.
You clamp down around him again and Rafayel’s moan echoes in the room. His thrusts turn more shallow, enough so that only the head of his dick dips inside of you over and over, pushing past that first ring of muscle continually.
It’s not enough. You want him deeper inside, stuffed so far in that you can’t remember your own name. You jerk your hips up when he presses just barely inside again, trying to get him farther in.
Rafayel goes still instead, peering at you with a raised brow.
“You want more?” he questions. “I thought I said I couldn’t know what you wanted unless you asked for it?” He gives a tiny grind of his hips, just the tip of his cock inside of you.
You whine. “You got the point without me talking, didn’t you?” It’s excruciating, having him stretching open your entrance without sliding all the way in.
Rafayel tsks and pulls out entirely for a few moments just to stare down at you.
“But what if I just want to hear you beg?”
He slams back into you roughly once. You tip your head back and let out a long, drawn out moan.
And then Rafayel pulls out again. It’s clear what he’s aiming for and you whimper while attempting to string together words for anything resembling a coherent sentence.
“I think you should beg,” he supplies again as he leans back a bit to move some of his weight off of you. You’re staring at each other again, his molten gaze imploring. “Just for good measure.”
You swallow thickly and acquiesce. “Please,” you whisper at first and you see the challenge in his eyes. Louder, or he won’t give you what you want. For some reason, meeting his gaze as you beg him makes you feel so much more vulnerable. And Rafayel is drinking that up, reveling in your sudden bashfulness with a knowing, sly curve of his lips while he continues to slowly— so very slowly— slide out of you completely and then fuck back in so deeply that your vision whites out.
God, he’s so irritating. But you’d have him no other way.
“Please,” you start again with much more desperation weaved into your pleading. “I want you to—“ you cut off on a moan when Rafayel pounds back into you. “I want you to fuck me harder, Rafayel.”
Another sharp thrust and his ever demanding gaze. He wants more. You give a quiet half-sob. “Please. Fuck me into the couch until you’re cumming inside of me, Rafayel, please. Like you’re going to break me. Please.”
His ears glow red before the color spreads to his face and he dips his head to hide his gaze from yours.
“Unfair,” he mumbles, but he’s drawing back to slam into you powerfully, picking up pace immediately. He must get over his shyness at your vulgarity quickly, because he lifts his head, eyes boring into yours once again as he does just as you asked— fucks you roughly into the couch.
It doesn’t take long before you’re gasping for breath beneath him and Rafayel’s gaze is a bit manic on yours now, his hips slamming into you over and over. You clench around him again and he doesn’t break your stare to moan into the heated air between the two of you. His tongue peeks out to wet his lips as he pounds into you.
Your fingers scramble for purchase, finding his thighs to keep you anchored, and your nails dig into the fabric of his slacks. A high, keening whine rips from your throat when he fucks into that one spot yet again and you can’t help from thrashing, the feeling so overwhelming now.
“Rafayel,” you beg, not quite sure what you’re asking for and he drops your legs from his shoulders to be spread, forcing you to wrap them around his waist.
He continues to drive his cock in and in and in. He leans down to capture the nipple of your left breast in his mouth and swirls his tongue around it. You cry out at the overstimulation and grab a fistful of his hair, tugging his head back for some kind of reprieve.
The pain from the tug has Rafayel gasping against your breast and you mindlessly chant his name as his cock plows into that most sensitive spot persistently. Static fizzles along your body, your orgasm building at an insane pace, and you meet him thrust for thrust.
“I’m so close,” you moan and Rafayel’s head whips up so that he can stare down at you, slack-jawed and falling apart underneath him. His thrusts are growing off kilter, the rhythm of them faltering a little.
“Fuck, I’m gonna cum, gonna fill you up,” he groans, the sound of his voice absolutely fucking wrecked, and then he surges down to slot your mouths into a searing kiss.
It’s the sound of that declaration, broken and dazed that finally sends you over the edge, your climax crashing into you.
”Cumming, cumming,” you cry out as his pace quickens. His name falls from your lips again— loud and high pitched— and your back arches up off of the couch. You can feel Rafayel’s cock throb as your pussy walls tighten and pulsate around him with your orgasm.
And then he’s spilling into you, warm seed filling you up while he kisses you deeply, mouth hot and insistent. He makes a few punched out noises into your mouth as he comes and you suck his tongue into your mouth, climax still rippling through you.
His hips stutter, that brutal pace finally faltering until he stops, giving a few small final thrusts and you go boneless beneath him as the strength of your orgasm ebbs.
He breaks from the kiss to suck in a few lungfuls of air and then presses his face into the crook of your neck, breathing you in. You lay like that for an indeterminate amount of time, arms wrapped around Rafayel as you bask in the afterglow of what is definitely the best sex you've ever had.
When he eventually leans back, he looks disheveled and spent but satisfied— like the cat that got the cream. His chest heaves with the effort of breathing still but there’s a small smile lifting up the corners of his swollen mouth. It seems like the perfume is no longer affecting him and possibly hasn't been for a while now.
“I’ll take thanks for the life changing sex in the payment of strolls along the beach,” is what he says when he ultimately opens his mouth.
You can’t help the smile that takes over your face as you roll your eyes at his appraisal of himself. You reach up to comb your fingers through his hair.
“Hmm, it was fine. I suppose I’d do it again,” you admit nonchalantly but it’s all the fuel Rafayel needs to grind his softening cock farther into you once.
“Just fine, hm? You screaming out my name as you came not once, not twice, but three times begs to differ.”
You groan softly at his cock still inside of you and bat at his chest. “Fine, fine, it was great. But you do not need an even bigger ego so don’t you dare let it get to your head or it’s not happening again.” Something softens in the slope of his shoulders and your heart swells. He’d been worried you hadn’t enjoyed it.
You absolutely had.
He still feins smugness anyways when he pulls out of you finally and you watch as he takes in the sight of his cum dripping out of your stretched open entrance. His eyes go dark again and you tut him, closing your legs to hide yourself from his view.
“Absolutely not. Go get cleaned up— I told Thomas I’d bring you to this perfume launch and I generally like to keep my word.”
Rafayel’s lips jut out into a full pout and he grumbles. “I can’t go to that. I was drugged— you wouldn’t force a poor, intoxicated man to go out in public to mingle, would you?”
A bit of guilt flickers through you at that. Even if it had been wholly unintentional, you had technically doped him. You cringe a bit and Rafayel harrumphs delicately, knowing he’s about to get his way.
“Fine. But you have to be the one to call Thomas to tell him you’re feeling under the weather. He’s probably going crazy not having heard from either of us.”
Rafayel’s answering grin is devious. He stands up to tuck himself back into his boxer briefs and tugs his pants up over the curve of his ass. He leaves them unbuttoned and reaches for you as you shift to sit up on the couch. He pulls you to stand and spins you so you’re facing away from him before wrapping his arms around you and tucking his chin against your shoulder.
“I’m sure he’d love to hear all about how ‘under the weather’ I’m feeling,” he murmurs and you gasp, scandalized.
“Rafayel, you wouldn’t!”
His disingenuous and dismissive noise of assent tells you that he would.
“Fine, I’ll call Thomas myself.” But as you reach for your phone, Rafayel makes a surprised sound and grabs your arm to bring it up to scent along your wrist again.
“Oh! Maybe we should go. I’d love to get a bottle of whatever this is.” He practically purrs against your skin, looking like a cat as he rubs his face against your wrist.
“Ugh, just go shower,” you command and Rafayel’s puff of laughter against your skin tickles. His blue-pink eyes twinkle up at you.
“Only if you join me,” he says and lets go of your wrist to pad away.
Something in the lilt of his voice tells you that you’re likely going to need a second shower, if you even truly shower the first time.