♡You let him hit raw for first time
Pairing: rafe cameron x bitchy!reader
Summary: after he was begging you for months to hit it raw you finally let him. But he gets too excited to last long
Warnings:( Smut (MDNI), Unprotected sex, Praise & degradation, Rafe being obsessed with you, Slight power struggle, Bitchy attitude (from you), Begging (from him), Possessiveness, Probably some light choking/gripping, A lot of dirty talk
----
"Come on, baby. Just once. Just let me feel you."
It had been Rafe's favorite thing to beg for since the start of your relationship. His obsession. His mission.
Every time he had you underneath him, his body pressing yours into the mattress, his hands gripping at your waist or your wrists or your throat—he'd ask. He'd plead. He'd run his lips over your ear, whispering filthy promises about how good it would feel, how much better it would be, how you’d never want to go back.
And every time, you told him no.
You liked making him work for it. You liked the way his jaw clenched, the way his grip got tighter, the way his frustration seeped into every rough thrust. Because Rafe Cameron didn’t lose, and telling him no? That made him desperate to win.
But tonight?
Tonight, you felt mean.
Maybe it was the way he’d been looking at you all night, the way his hands had barely left your body, like he was starving. Maybe it was the way he pulled you onto his lap the second you got to his house, hands palming your ass, lips dragging along your jaw. Maybe it was the way you wanted to ruin him.
So, when he kissed you breathless and muttered against your lips, "Please, baby, just once," you smirked.
"Fine."
Rafe froze. His pupils dilated so fast you thought he might pass out. His lips parted, brows pulling together like he was trying to process what he just heard.
You leaned in, lips brushing his ear. "You heard me."
And then?
He lost his fucking mind.
The second his cock pressed inside, with nothing in between, he let out a sound you’d never heard before. Like an actual, feral groan, deep in his chest, his body shuddering against yours as he bottomed out.
"Fuck," he gasped, dropping his head to your shoulder. His hands gripped your thighs like he wanted to bruise them, like he needed to ground himself. "Fuck. You feel—Jesus."
His breath was hot against your neck, his whole body shaking with restraint. Like he wanted to ruin you, but he was trying—failing—to keep himself together.
"You good?" you teased, a smirk playing on your lips.
Rafe let out a low, humorless laugh before he pulled back to look at you. His blue eyes were dark, wild, possessive.
"Oh, baby," he rasped, voice dripping with something dangerous. His hand slid up your body, fingers wrapping around your throat, tilting your chin up. "You just fucked up."
Rafe didn’t move for a second. He just stayed there, buried inside you to the hilt, like he was trying to memorize the way you felt around him. Like he was already dreading the moment he had to pull out.
“Holy shit,” he rasped, voice all shaky and breathless.
You smirked, just a little, running your hands up his arms. “What? You’re not gonna punk out on me, are you?”
That snapped something in him.
Rafe let out a choked laugh, but there was nothing funny about the way he gripped your waist. “You think I’m gonna tap out? Oh, baby.” His fingers dug into your skin, holding you down. “I’m just trying not to bust the second I move.”
You laughed, but the sound cut off when he rolled his hips—just once, slow, deep.
His whole body shuddered. His head dropped forward, forehead pressing into yours, his jaw clenching like he was physically fighting his own body.
“Oh, fuck,” he groaned, voice wrecked. His breath came out in short, sharp bursts, and his grip on you only got tighter. “Oh my God, this is—this is so much better—”
You wrapped your arms around his shoulders, dragging your nails up his back. “C’mon, baby,” you whispered, lips brushing his. “I thought you were dying for this. Don’t tell me you can’t handle it.”
That did it.
Rafe’s hands jerked your hips up, making you gasp, making you feel just how hard he was struggling to keep it together.
“You love running that mouth, don’t you?” he gritted out, glaring down at you. “Think you’re so fucking funny.”
You smirked up at him, dragging your fingers through his hair. “You begged for this, Cameron. If you can’t handle it, just say so.”
That was the final straw.
Rafe let out a sharp breath, shaking his head like he couldn’t believe you were still talking, still teasing him when he was this close to fucking losing it.
“Okay,” he muttered, half to himself, like he was officially done playing nice. His hand wrapped around your throat, pressing you into the mattress, tilting your chin up so he could look you in the eyes when he said—
“Don’t fucking move.”
Then, he pulled out—all the way—before slamming back in, forcing a gasp from your lips as he stretched you again.
Rafe let out a broken groan, his body shuddering as he tried—tried—not to let it get the best of him. But you were so tight, so fucking warm, and there was nothing, nothing, in between.
“Oh, fuck, fuck, fuck,” he gasped, his forehead dropping to your shoulder. “Baby, I swear to God, I can’t—”
You laughed, breathless. “Already?”
His grip tightened around your throat in warning. “Shut up,” he muttered, voice shaking.
You did, but only because you were too distracted by the way he was trembling above you, holding himself back, gritting his teeth so hard his jaw popped.
You could feel how desperate he was. You could see the way his abs tensed, his muscles flexing as he fought for every ounce of self-control he had.
He wanted to ruin you. He needed to.
But he was so close, and it was killing him.
Rafe let out a shaky breath, glaring down at you. “I hate you,” he muttered, his voice all breathless and wrecked.
You smirked. “No, you don’t.”
And then, you moved. Just a little. Just enough to make him jerk inside you, to make his whole body seize up.
“Oh, you bitch,” he groaned, his grip tightening as he thrust forward, his restraint finally snapping.
