10. No Brakes #3
I rise and sink back down, finding the rhythm slowly enough to adjust to the fullness before letting myself move harder. Rafe’s hands slide up my waist to close around my breasts, and the little edge of pain goes straight through me when he squeezes.
“Oh, you like that.”
“Don’t get cocky.”
“Little late.”
I brace one hand against his chest and ride him faster, his cock hitting deeper at this angle so that every downward stroke pulls another sound out of me.
“Fuck. Lo. Yes, baby. Just like that.”
I give him exactly that, hips burning, thighs starting to shake, his fingers tightening around me.
“You’re so fucking good to me.”
The praise hits strangely hard, and I lean down and kiss him to keep myself from thinking about why. He kisses me back immediately, messy now, no patience left, his teeth catching my lower lip while my hips keep moving.
Wanting him isn’t new. Doing something about it is.
And right now, with him beneath me, the house feels far away, and so do the rules.
He told me the truth when everyone else decided I wasn’t ready for it, and maybe that’s part of why I’m here.
Maybe I don’t need to make it cleaner than that tonight.
I sit upright and lift until only the head of him remains inside me before dropping back down hard enough to make his whole body jerk.
“Oh, fuck.”
The reaction makes me do it again.
“Fuck. You’re killing me.”
I ride him harder, letting him help now, his grip guiding me down each time I lift, the room filling with the sound of skin and breath and the bed shifting under us. When I clench around him, his head drops back.
“Do that again.”
I do, and his hips start meeting mine from underneath, the extra force sending pleasure punching through me. I catch myself against his chest and keep the rhythm, letting him thrust up while I grind down until every stroke lands exactly where I need it.
“Rafe.”
“Yeah, baby.”
“I’m close again.”
“I know.”
His hand leaves my breast and slips between us, thumb finding my clit.
I jerk.
“There she is.”
I slap his shoulder, and he laughs without slowing down, his other hand locked around my hip while I keep riding him.
Then his breathing changes.
I recognize it, and with it comes the thought I somehow managed not to have until now.
No condom.
Again.
The memory lands with Cassian’s ring catching gold light and consequences I still haven’t dealt with from the first time I made this choice.
My rhythm falters.
Rafe notices immediately and stills beneath me.
“Lo?”
I look down at him. “We’re not using a condom.”
It comes out plain, no joke, no pretending we missed it.
“I know.” His eyes search mine. “You sure?”
I should think longer than I do.
“Yes.”
“Where?”
I tighten my thighs around his hips. “Inside me.”
Something changes in his face, close enough to possession that my pulse jumps.
“You sure?”
“Rafe.”
“Say it.”
“Come inside me.”
His hands tighten on my hips.
“Fuck.”
I start moving again, and he meets me harder now, less controlled, every thrust driving up into me while I ride him through it.
“Come on,” I whisper. “Rebel.”
That gets him.
His hips stutter.
“Lo—”
I clench around him, and he swears as he comes hard inside me.
The pulse of him pushes me over the edge right after, smaller than the first orgasm but deeper, pulling tight through my whole body while I keep moving through both of us until neither of us can do much except breathe.
Eventually I fold down against his chest, and his arms come around me.
For a few seconds we just lie there.
Then I start laughing.
Rafe turns his head. “What?”
“Enjoy the ride?”
He snorts. “You’re something else.”
“That wasn’t the question.”
“Yeah.” He pulls me closer. “I enjoyed the ride.”
“Did you fight it?”
“Not even a little.”
Later, tangled in sheets that smell like him, his fingers trace an idle line down my spine like he’s in no hurry to stop touching me now that he’s started.
I break the silence first.
“That wasn’t very hands-off of you.”
He laughs, real and surprised, the sound vibrating against my shoulder.
“I agreed to Ash’s condition.”
“And?”
“And you know what this place is now.”
I lift my head. “That’s your defense?”
“It’s an excellent defense.”
“You promised.”
“I promised to keep my hands off until you knew enough to choose.” His mouth twitches. “Then you chose.”
“That is such bullshit.”
“It is technically impeccable.”
I smack his chest, and he catches my hand and keeps it there. For a moment neither of us jokes.
“You okay?” he asks.
“Ask me again in the morning.”
“I’m asking now.”
I think about the version of tonight where none of this happened, where I went back to my room and processed everything alone the way I’ve processed everything alone my whole life.
Then I think about the things I haven’t told him: Cassian’s ring catching gold light, Ash close enough that I felt his breath, and the fact that neither memory disappeared just because I chose Rafe tonight.
They’re still there. So is this.
“Yeah,” I say, and mean it. “I’m okay.”
“Good.” He settles back down and pulls me closer.
Beyond his bedroom door, the rest of the house is still here. Cassian is still here. Ash is still here. So are all the questions waiting for me when morning comes.
For now, I let Rafe’s heartbeat under my ear be enough.