058. hard and fast

( the fifty eighth chapter )

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As they stepped into the house, Rafe gently grabbed Olivine's hand, pulling her aside before she could head into the kitchen. She raised a curious brow, but before she could say anything, he leaned down to press a soft kiss to her lips. His arms wrapped around her, enveloping her smaller frame in a warm hug. His height made her feel entirely cocooned as he held her close, his chin resting on the top of her head.

"Thank you," she murmured into his chest, her voice muffled but sincere. "For everything. You're so sweet."

Rafe let out a quiet laugh, shaking his head as he teased, "Alright, you gotta stop saying stuff like that out loud. I can't have people thinking I'm soft."

Olivine giggled, pulling back just enough to look up at him. "Oh, don't worry. Your secret's safe with me. Mr. Sweetheart." She grinned, poking his chest playfully.

He rolled his eyes, but the small smile tugging at his lips betrayed his amusement. "You're lucky you're cute, Liv."

She patted his chest lightly and started to step away, saying, "I have to get started on dinner—"

But before she could fully escape, Rafe's hands slid down to her hips, rubbing them softly as he pulled her back toward him. He leaned in, his voice dropping to a husky whisper near her ear. "No need to get started, baby. I'll just eat you out right now."

Olivine scoffed, her cheeks heating up as she turned to swat at his chest. "Rafe, stop," she said, half-playful and half-scolding. "You can wait until after I've made actual food for us."

Rafe groaned dramatically, rolling his eyes but never letting go of her. "You're such a tease," he muttered, nuzzling his face into her neck. "You know I'm serious. You're all the meal I need. Pure sweetness, protein, and everything in between."

She laughed, pushing at his chest again to make him let her go, but the affection in her voice was unmistakable. "You're impossible. Now let me go so I can make sure you don't starve to death."

Rafe sighed, finally loosening his hold but not before stealing another kiss. "Fine. But just so you know, I'm keeping you to that promise after dinner."

Olivine shook her head, trying to hide her grin as she made her way toward the kitchen. "You're lucky you're cute, Rafe," she said, tossing his words back at him.

He followed behind her, smirking to himself, his eyes never leaving her. "Damn right I am."

As Olivine moved into the kitchen, Rafe leaned against the doorway, watching her with a lazy grin. She grabbed ingredients from the fridge, setting them on the counter, and he couldn't help but admire the way she moved—so natural, so at ease, even with him watching her like a hawk.

"Do you always stare this much, or am I just special?" she asked without looking up, her tone playful but laced with genuine curiosity.

"You're special," Rafe said immediately, no hesitation. His voice was steady, like it was a fact he didn't even need to think twice about.

That made her glance back at him, her lips twitching into a smile despite herself. "You're something else, Cameron."

"Yeah? Something good, though, right?" He smirked, pushing off the doorframe and moving toward her.

"Most of the time," she teased, setting a cutting board down and starting to chop vegetables.

He came up behind her, wrapping his arms loosely around her waist and resting his chin on her shoulder. "Just 'most'? That hurts, baby."

She laughed, tilting her head slightly so her temple brushed against his. "You'll survive."

They stayed like that for a moment, Rafe holding her as she worked. It was quiet, but not in a bad way—just peaceful. Eventually, he spoke again, his voice softer this time.

"Hey," he said, and she paused, turning her head slightly to look at him.

"Yeah?"

"I wasn't kidding earlier," he murmured, his hands gently squeezing her hips. "About the car, the necklace... all of it. You deserve that and more, Liv. And I know I screw up sometimes—okay, a lot—but I want you to know I'm trying. For you."

Olivine turned fully to face him, her expression serious now. She reached up, cupping his cheek with her free hand. "I know you are, Rafe. And I appreciate it. You don't have to keep proving it with stuff like the car, though. Just... this is enough." She gestured between them, a soft smile tugging at her lips. "You being here. You trying. That's what matters to me."

Rafe's throat tightened at her words, and for a second, he couldn't say anything. He just nodded, leaning into her touch.

"Now," she said, breaking the moment with a grin, "if you're not gonna help, you can at least set the table."

He chuckled, stealing a quick kiss before stepping back. "Bossy," he muttered, but there was no heat behind it.

"You love it," she called after him as he grabbed plates from the cabinet.

"Yeah, yeah," he said, shaking his head but smiling to himself. And he really did.

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As dinner wrapped up, Olivine leaned back in her chair, her fork lazily twirling in her fingers. Rafe was still eating, his focus on the food she'd made, but his eyes would dart to her every now and then, like he couldn't help himself.

"Done staring?" she teased, resting her chin in her palm.

"Not even close," he shot back, his voice low but playful. He took another bite of his food, chewing thoughtfully before setting his fork down. "You wanna sit outside for a bit?"

She raised a brow. "You're feeling sentimental tonight, huh?"

"Something like that," he said with a shrug, standing and grabbing her plate along with his.

Olivine let him clear the table while she wandered toward the balcony, opening the glass door and stepping into the cool evening air. The stars were scattered across the sky, the faint hum of the ocean in the distance. She wrapped her arms around herself, leaning on the railing as she stared out at the view.

Rafe joined her a moment later, slipping his arms around her waist from behind and pulling her against his chest. "Cold?" he murmured, his lips close to her ear.

"A little," she admitted, relaxing into his hold.

"Guess I'll just have to keep you warm," he said, resting his chin on her shoulder.

"You're so cheesy," she said with a laugh, but she didn't pull away.

For a while, they stood there in silence, the world outside quiet except for the occasional sound of cars in the distance.

Then Rafe turned her gently, his hands sliding down to rest on her hips.

"C'mere," he said, guiding her back inside.

She let him lead her to the couch, where he pulled her down into his lap, his hands resting lightly on her thighs. Olivine tilted her head, studying him. "What's going on with you tonight? You're unusually... sweet."

"Don't get used to it," he teased, but there was something softer in his eyes, something he wasn't saying.

She shifted slightly, her legs curling up against his side as his hands slid up and down her thighs, the touch just shy of suggestive. He wasn't trying to take it further—she could tell—but the way he looked at her, the way his fingers skimmed her skin, sent a flush creeping up her neck.

"You're staring again," she said, her voice quieter this time.

"Can you blame me?" he murmured, his thumb brushing over the inside of her knee. "You're kind of perfect."

Olivine rolled her eyes, though her cheeks warmed at his words. "You're ridiculous."

"And you're beautiful," he countered, leaning in just enough to press a kiss to her temple.

She leaned into him, her fingers playing with the chain of his necklace. "You know, you could've just said you wanted to cuddle."

Rafe smirked, his hands slipping to her waist. "Maybe I didn't want to make it that obvious."

"Subtlety isn't really your thing," she teased, resting her forehead against his.

"Good thing you like me anyway," he whispered, his lips brushing hers in the softest kiss.

Rafe leaned back into the couch, his hands resting lazily on Olivine's thighs as she straddled him, her skirt pooling around her legs. The soft hum of the tv in the background filled the silence between them, but the atmosphere felt electric, charged by the way his fingers traced slow, deliberate circles against her skin.

"You really gonna just sit there?" he asked, his voice low, teasing.

"I'm comfortable," she shot back with a small smirk, tilting her head. Her fingers toyed with the hem of his shirt, brushing lightly against his skin. "Why? Is that a problem for you?"

He leaned forward slightly, closing the small space between them, his nose brushing hers. "Not a problem. Just wondering how long you're gonna pretend you don't want my hands somewhere else."

Olivine let out a quiet laugh, shaking her head as she placed her palms on his chest, feeling the steady rise and fall of his breathing. "You have a one-track mind, you know that?"

"And you're still here," he countered smoothly, sliding his hands up to her waist. His grip was firm, possessive, as he pulled her closer, his lips grazing the corner of her jaw.

Her breath hitched, but she refused to let him see how much his touch was getting to her. "You really think you're that irresistible, huh?"

He grinned against her skin, his voice a husky murmur. "I don't think—I know."

Rolling her eyes, she tilted her head back slightly, giving him better access as his lips skimmed her neck. His stubble grazed her skin, sending a shiver down her spine. "You're awfully confident for someone who burned bacon this morning."

That earned her a soft laugh, his chest rumbling against her palms. "You're never gonna let me live that down, are you?"

"Not a chance," she said, but her voice softened as his hands slid to her lower back, holding her in place as his lips traveled just below her ear.

They stayed like that for a moment, the world outside forgotten, the only sounds between them the faint rustle of her skirt and the music playing in the background. His hands never strayed too far, but the way they gripped her, the way his touch lingered, felt more intimate than any words could.

"You're so easy to mess with," he murmured, pulling back just enough to look at her.

"And you're so full of yourself," she replied, but there was no bite in her tone. Instead, she cupped his face, her thumbs brushing over his cheekbones.

His blue eyes softened as he looked up at her, his expression unusually vulnerable. "You make it hard not to be when you look at me like that."

Olivine's cheeks warmed, and she shook her head, trying to hide the smile tugging at her lips. "You're impossible, you know that?"

"And yet you're still here," he said again, his voice dropping as he tilted his head back, his hands sliding up her spine to pull her closer.

This time, when she leaned in to kiss him, it wasn't rushed or heated. It was slow, deliberate, her lips moving against his with a tenderness that caught him off guard. And as his arms tightened around her, holding her like she was the only thing keeping him grounded, she realized she didn't mind being right where she was.

Olivine leaned closer, her breath catching as her lips brushed against Rafe's, the gentle touch igniting a spark that quickly flared into something more. Her mind blanked, every coherent thought dissolving as his hand moved up to the back of her head. His fingers tangled in the thick, soft waves of her hair, holding her there, his grip firm but careful, like he was afraid to break her.

Rafe tilted his head, his lips pressing more insistently against hers, and she gave in to the moment, her hands sliding up his chest and clutching the fabric of his shirt. His touch shifted, trailing down from her hair to cradle her jaw, his thumb brushing softly against her skin. The tender gesture was a stark contrast to the intensity of the kiss, but it only made her heart race faster.

When his tongue flicked against her bottom lip, she parted for him instinctively, and their tongues met in a slow, heated dance. It wasn't rushed or frantic—this was Rafe's way of reminding her he was in control, though she wasn't about to let him have it all. She pressed closer, her fingers curling tighter into his shirt, her own lips matching his intensity.

Rafe let out a low growl, a sound that sent a thrill coursing through her. His hand slid from her jaw to her waist, gripping her firmly and pulling her even closer until there was no space left between them. Their tongues clashed, fighting for dominance, and she met his challenge head-on, refusing to back down.

"You're trouble," he murmured against her lips, his voice husky, his breath warm as it fanned over her flushed skin.

"And you're loving it," she shot back, her tone laced with teasing confidence, though her knees were threatening to give out beneath her.

Rafe smirked, his teeth gently nipping at her bottom lip before soothing it with his tongue. "You've got me there."

His free hand slid to the small of her back, pressing her even closer, as if he needed to feel every inch of her against him. She gasped softly when he moved his lips from hers, trailing a slow, deliberate path along her jaw and down to her neck.

Olivine's hands slipped under the hem of Rafe's white polo, her nails dragging lightly against the defined ridges of his abs. She felt the muscles beneath her fingers tense at her touch, a quiet hitch in his breath betraying his composure. Slowly, she pushed the shirt up, her movements deliberate, teasing. Rafe's lips, which had been trailing warm kisses down her neck, stilled for a moment as he leaned back, allowing her to tug the fabric over his head.

He shrugged the shirt off casually, tossing it aside without care, his sharp blue eyes already locked on her. A smirk curled at the corners of his mouth as he watched her gaze drop, her fingers brushing over his chest. She let them linger on the faint freckles scattered across his skin, along with the small moles she'd come to memorize. The way her lips caught between her teeth while she studied him didn't escape his notice, and the glint in his eye grew darker when she shifted forward on his lap.

Her touch, gentle yet purposeful, trailed over every defined plane, every curve of his chest and abs, as if committing them to memory anew. When her fingers reached the waistband of his jeans, she paused, leaning in to cradle his face between her hands. Her lips found his in a soft, lingering peck, the kind of kiss that felt intimate in its simplicity, as if it held all the words she couldn't say out loud.

But Rafe wasn't interested in staying soft. Not entirely.

His hands, which had been resting on her hips, slid lower, gripping the curve of her rear with a firmness that made her gasp against his mouth. He guided her down onto him, her clothed center pressing against his growing arousal. With a deliberate slowness, he began moving her, his strong hands directing her hips in a rhythm that sent sparks coursing through her.

The friction—minimal yet maddening—sent soft whimpers tumbling from her lips. Her head tilted back slightly as her hands braced against his shoulders, the heat between them growing with every subtle roll of her hips.

"Rafe," she murmured, her voice breathy, but he didn't reply.

He was watching her, his lips slightly parted, his eyes hooded with something that wasn't just lust. There was an intensity there, a kind of reverence in the way his gaze roamed her face, drinking in the sight of her unraveling in his arms.

"God, you're perfect," he muttered, his voice rough as his grip tightened on her hips, pulling her closer against him.

Olivine's cheeks flushed deeper, her lips parting as she let out another quiet moan, the sound spurring him on. His movements remained controlled, deliberate, as if he wanted to drag this moment out, savor every second.

Her hands slipped back into his hair, tugging lightly as her forehead rested against his. Their breaths mingled, hot and uneven, as her body melted further into his.

"Rafe..." she murmured again, but this time her tone was softer, almost pleading.

"I've got you," he whispered, his voice low, a promise laced in every word. "Just let me take care of you."

Rafe's fingers deftly worked at the clasp of her matching cotton top, the fabric falling away effortlessly to reveal her bare skin. His breath hitched as his eyes lowered, drinking in every curve, every detail, before his lips found their place on the soft, brown peak of her nipple. The warmth of his mouth sent shivers coursing down her spine, and she gasped as he sucked gently, his tongue tracing slow, deliberate circles.

One hand stayed firmly gripping her rear, guiding her movements as her hips rocked against him, the friction building a tantalizing heat between them. Every roll of her body drew a guttural groan from Rafe, his eyes fluttering shut as he savored the sensation. Olivine's soft whimpers and breathy moans filled the room, a melody of desire that only spurred him on.

He switched his attention to her other breast, his lips and teeth teasing the sensitive skin while his free hand roamed her back, pulling her even closer. Olivine's hands tangled in his hair, gripping tightly as she arched into him, her body trembling under the weight of his touch. The pressure in her lower belly coiled tighter with every motion, her hips moving instinctively to find more of him.

"Rafe," she whimpered, her voice breaking as she felt herself teetering on the edge of something overwhelming. Just as the knot in her stomach began to tighten, she pulled away, her chest heaving as she caught her breath. Her trembling hands moved to cradle his face, forcing him to meet her gaze.

"Rafe, I really need you, please," she whispered, her voice barely audible but heavy with want.

His lips parted, his breath shaky, before he nodded. Without hesitation, he unbuckled his belt and pushed his jeans and Calvin Klein briefs down, leaving him bare beneath her. As Olivine moved to do the same, her fingers slipping to the waistband of her skirt, Rafe's hand shot out, stopping her.

"Baby," he murmured, his voice low and rough, his darkened gaze locking onto hers. "Come here—the skirt stays on."

The command sent a thrill through her, heat flushing her cheeks as her hands fell to her sides. His smirk was soft yet confident, the kind of expression that said he knew exactly what he was doing to her. He pulled her closer, his hands returning to her hips as his thumb traced the waistband of her skirt, the cotton soft under his touch.

Rafe let out a low, contented sigh as his hands slid beneath her skirt, his touch slow and deliberate. His fingers grazed over her soft skin, tracing a path to her warmth, where he felt the damp patch of her underwear. The corner of his mouth lifted into a smirk as he hooked a finger around the fabric, pulling it to the side. His eyes met hers for a moment, silently asking for permission, and when she gave a small nod, he positioned himself.

Tilting his hips upward, he slowly entered her, careful and deliberate, ensuring she adjusted to him. The sensation was overwhelming for both of them, and they each let out a breathy moan as he filled her inch by inch. Olivine's head fell forward, resting against his, her eyes fluttering shut as she adjusted to the stretch.

Rafe's hands gripped her waist, his thumbs brushing soothing circles against her skin. He leaned in, his lips brushing hers in a soft, reassuring kiss. "Ride me, cowgirl," he murmured against her mouth, his voice thick with both humor and desire.

Her eyes snapped open at his teasing, and she let out a small, indignant shout of protest, which quickly melted into a moan as he gave a shallow thrust, urging her to move. "Fuck you, Rafe," she muttered, her voice trembling with frustration and pleasure.

Rafe chuckled, his tone low and full of mischief. "You already are, baby. Now show me what you're made of." His words were punctuated by a light smack on her rear, making her gasp softly.

Olivine glared at him for a moment, her cheeks flushed, before placing her hands on his shoulders for balance. Slowly, she began to move, her hips rolling in a rhythm that had them both groaning. Rafe's head tilted back slightly, his eyes half-lidded as he watched her, captivated by every movement, every sound she made.

"Good girl," he praised, his voice strained but still laced with teasing. "That's it, baby. Just like that."

Olivine bit her lip, trying to hold back a smile at his encouragement, but she couldn't help the small laugh that escaped her. Despite his cocky demeanor, there was something endearing about how he completely gave himself over to her, letting her set the pace and control their shared moment.

The room was filled with soft gasps and murmured words, the intimacy between them thick and unspoken. Every touch, every glance, was a testament to how deeply they had come to care for one another, even amidst the chaos that often surrounded them.

Rafe let out a low, contented sigh as his hands slid beneath her skirt, his touch slow and deliberate. His fingers grazed over her soft skin, tracing a path to her warmth, where he felt the damp patch of her underwear. The corner of his mouth lifted into a smirk as he hooked a finger around the fabric, pulling it to the side. His eyes met hers for a moment, silently asking for permission, and when she gave a small nod, he positioned himself.

Tilting his hips upward, he slowly entered her, careful and deliberate, ensuring she adjusted to him. The sensation was overwhelming for both of them, and they each let out a breathy moan as he filled her inch by inch. Olivine's head fell forward, resting against his, her eyes fluttering shut as she adjusted to the stretch.

Rafe's hands gripped her waist, his thumbs brushing soothing circles against her skin. He leaned in, his lips brushing hers in a soft, reassuring kiss. "Ride me, cowgirl," he murmured against her mouth, his voice thick with both humor and desire.

Her eyes snapped open at his teasing, and she let out a small, indignant shout of protest, which quickly melted into a moan as he gave a shallow thrust, urging her to move. "Fuck you, Rafe," she muttered, her voice trembling with frustration and pleasure.

Rafe chuckled, his tone low and full of mischief. "You already are, baby. Now show me what you're made of." His words were punctuated by a light smack on her rear, making her gasp softly.

Olivine glared at him for a moment, her cheeks flushed, before placing her hands on his shoulders for balance. Slowly, she began to move, her hips rolling in a rhythm that had them both groaning. Rafe's head tilted back slightly, his eyes half-lidded as he watched her, captivated by every movement, every sound she made.

"Good girl," he praised, his voice strained but still laced with teasing. "That's it, baby. Just like that."

Olivine bit her lip, trying to hold back a smile at his encouragement, but she couldn't help the small laugh that escaped her. Despite his cocky demeanor, there was something endearing about how he completely gave himself over to her, letting her set the pace and control their shared moment.

The room was filled with soft gasps and murmured words, the intimacy between them thick and unspoken. Every touch, every glance, was a testament to how deeply they had come to care for one another, even amidst the chaos that often surrounded them.

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KIKI SPEAKS ;
not edited !!

i leave this here for you

word count : 4.1k

ENJOY !!
xoxo kiki 💋💋