Rafe ran his thumb along your jaw, tilting your chin up so you had no choice but to meet his gaze. His blue eyes flickered with something unreadable—something dark, something knowing. It made your stomach twist in the best way.

“You have no idea what you do to me,” he muttered, voice rough, low.

You swallowed hard, your body warm beneath his touch. You didn’t know how he always made you feel like this—like you were teetering on the edge of something you didn’t fully understand. But he did. Rafe always knew.

“You’re so innocent, baby,” he murmured, brushing his lips over your cheek, your jaw, teasing. “So pure.”

It wasn’t something you ever thought about, not until him. Not until you saw the way he looked at you, how he touched you—like he wanted to ruin you, but take his time doing it.

“You trust me, don’t you?” His hand slid down your waist, fingers pressing into your hip, possessive.

“Of course I do.” The words came easily, because they were true.

His smirk was slow, almost lazy. “Then let me teach you.”