You weren’t supposed to be here.

Not in his mansion, not in his lap, not with his hands gripping your thighs like he owned you. And definitely not with his mouth against your neck, breathing in the scent of you like it was getting him high.

“Oh, you're so beautiful. Tell me to stop, sweetheart." His voice was low, rough, the kind of warning that should’ve sent you running.

You'd always been a smart girl. A safe girl.

But you weren’t moving.

Couldn’t.

Not when he was him—Mr. Cameron, your boss, older, sharper, more dangerous than he had any right to be. The man who ran the office you worked in and what seemed like the whole island. The man who walked through life like he owned everything. The man who always watched you a little too closely, and now you knew why.

And maybe you didn't wanna be safe anymore. You swallowed hard, your fingers tightening their grip on his crisp white shirt. "Mr. Cameron, I want..."

Rafe hummed when you trailed off, tilting his head. “What do you want, sweetheart?" he cooed, no malice in his gun-metal blue eyes. “You can tell me. Tell me and I'll make it happen.”

You shivered. He was so gentle with you, unlike the rough calluses of his hands and his harsh tone at work. He cradled you like a precious doll, and you'd never felt so loved and cherished in your life.