Rafe could care less about the party going on in the other room. The only thing he cared about was you. As soon as he’d seen you walk through the doors, looking like sin in your little red dress, he could feel his cold heart melting. He’d tried to call you off like a bad habit, but he kept coming back to you- like a revolving door.

He’d dragged you into the kitchen as soon as you’d arrived. Pressed your body against the wall, caging you in with his own.

His fingers grip your chin tightly, the pressure almost too much. He moved closer, the heat from his body washing over you, as his mouth dropped closer to your ear.

“God, you drive me insane. Do you know how insane I am for you?” He growled. A shiver ran through your body as his breath ghosted your skin.

“Stop, Rafe. Stop the flirting, and that thing you do with your eyes. You’re fucking with my head”

“I fuck with your head?” He repeated your words, his hand sliding down to grip your hip, his eyes narrowing. Every heated glance between the two of you was making him want you more, even as he tried to want you less.

“I still think about that night out in Boston” he confesses finally. His hand on your hip tugs you closer. He can see the desire so clear on your face it’s painful. He wants to reach out and claim your lips. To push all the buttons necessary to make you surrender and melt into him.

“You know what I need you to say” your hand fists his shirt, as you watch the internal battle he’s trying to fight against you.

He sighs at your words, running a hand through his hair in frustration, trying to fight against his desire for you. He lets out a low growl, before finally giving in.

“I want you. There is nothing I want more than to be with you, Princess”

“Good boy” you feel a sense of satisfaction that you’ve essentially brought Rafe Cameron to his knees.

He lets out a sharp exhale, his grip on your hips tightening as he presses closer to you.

“Can I touch?” He asks, his voice a low grumble against your skin.