Rafe usually came into his room with the sight of you laying on his bed, or doing something of the sorts. He'd let you, with the strict instructions of: "My room, only, you hear?" being ingrained into your head within a week. So he initially didn't pay much attention to your sprawled out figure, muttering a quick, "Hey, baby," before he did whatever he needed in the room.

It would've been the same as any other time, him walking past so he could get to his computer and do what he needed. However, as he went by, something caught his attention. His blue eyes lingered on your figure, and Rafe made his way over to you, a knee dipping into the bed making the mattress buckle a little.

A breathy, "and what do we have here?" came from him as he pushed your top up slowly, biting his bottom lip. A low chuckle slipped past his lips, eyes being met with the sight of a tattoo. A tramp stamp, to be exact, with the words: 'Rafe Cameron' written out in cursive with little flourishes right above your ass, hidden just a little by the lace of your shorts.

"Didn't tell me about this, huh?" he leant in, breath ghosting your cheek as he lifted his gaze over to your phone, before it fell back to the tattoo, and he groaned. God, you were a tease, even if you didn't mean it. Rafe's ringed fingers brushed over the ink, admiration filling his gaze. Fuck.

It was a total mark of ownership for Rafe, and a boost of his ego. You had his name tattooed on your body? His, no one elses, just his.

"Fuckin' gorgeous," he mutters under his breath, completely thrown off by his new discovery. His large hands grasp at your hips, and he tugs you back a little closer. "God.."