Page 3 of Monsters Carve Thrones (Crowned Monsters Duet #2)

“I vow to worship the empire you’ve built,” he said. “And to give you mine in return. I vow to protect you with everything I am. To protect you to the best of my ability. To be your weapon, your shield, your executioner. Whatever you need.”

He leaned in slightly, and I swore his voice was only meant for me now.

“I vow to love you the way only a villain can love. With no limits. No rules. No mercy.”

My breath caught.

“I take you as my queen. Not one who bows beside her king, but one who makes him kneel before her. Because, little doe, you’re the only person who I would do that for.”

His grip on my fingers burned.

“And if the world ever tries to take you from me, I will carve my way through heaven and hell to bring you home. Because loving you is the best thing I’ve ever done.” He tilted his head, eyes blazing.

The silence that followed Rafe’s vows was heavy. Every soul in the courtyard seemed to be holding their breath, not out of reverence, but awe. Fear. Respect.

Or all three.

The officiant stood before us, smiling with the grace of a man who had married many terrifying people. “By the power vested in me,” he began, his tone respectful. “I now pronounce you husband and wife.”

My pulse roared in my ears.

“You may–”

Rafe didn’t wait for permission. He took my face in both hands and kissed me like he owned the very air in my lungs.

There was no softness or hesitation, just fire, and a brutal hunger.

It was like he’d waited lifetimes for this moment and would never waste a second of it.

His mouth claimed mine in front of everyone.

It was unapologetic and fierce, and everything I could ever have asked for.

When he finally pulled back, his mouth brushed my ear, his voice ragged. “I can’t wait to ruin you in this dress,” he whispered. “On your knees, finally wearing my name.”

I bit my lip. A jolt of heat shot through me, straight to my core.

The crowd didn’t cheer.

They stood in respectful silence, dangerous men and cunning women who understood exactly what had just happened. An alliance had been formed. It wasn’t a casual union, but one that etched its name into history.

Rafe pulled back to look at me, his breath touched my lips. His thumb dragged slowly over my cheekbone, like he was memorizing me again now that I was his. Truly his.

“Mrs. Sinclair-Vaughan,” he murmured, that wicked grin returning.

My lips parted, a wildfire igniting within my core. The wind moved through the courtyard, stirring the silk of my gown and the trailing wisteria around us. He offered me his arm, and I took it. And as we turned toward the aisle, every guest stepped aside. Not one dared block our path or look away.

We didn’t walk out like a bride and groom.

We walked out like a king and queen.

***

The hours that followed passed in a decadent blur.

Golden afternoon light spilled across the stone courtyard like honey, warming the limestone beneath our feet.

Chilled champagne sparkled in crystal flutes, passed by silent waitstaff dressed in black, and laughter laced through the air.

It sounded elegant, but never without that ever-present undercurrent of tension.

Like every guest could feel the weight of power sitting at their tables. We moved like royalty through it all.

I glanced up at the night sky and said a silent prayer to my mother, hoping she’d forgive me for marrying a Vaughan man.

Photographers trailed behind as we posed beside carved marble fountains, their basins overflowing with white roses.

The wisteria hanging above us swayed in the breeze, its perfume sweet and almost too innocent for the kind of celebration we were hosting.

My gown clung to my body, silk turned molten under the heat of the sun and his gaze.

I felt it constantly, scorching a path down my spine, across my bare shoulders, over the swell of my breasts.

We finally cut the towering, dark confection laced with dark cherry and chocolate. I fed him the first bite, letting the cherry stain my fingers. He returned the favor, but I caught a streak of red on his thumb and leaned in, my lips parting.

I sucked it clean slowly and deliberately.

Rafe’s gaze snapped to mine, icy blue darkened like the underside of a glacier. A muscle ticked in his jaw as my tongue dragged across the pad of his thumb. I tasted sugar and tension and the slow unraveling of his control. His hand lingered at my waist, fingers tightening in a silent warning.

His mouth lowered to my ear a second later, voice like velvet-draped steel. “You keep that up,” he murmured, “and I’ll bend you over that table and fuck you in front of everyone.”

I swallowed a laugh, heat pooling in my stomach, my thighs already pressing closer. Hah, I’d let them all watch.

***

By the time we reached the penthouse suite at Aman , the air between us was combustible. He swept me up in his arms with an easy motion, and laughter bubbled out of me. My head buzzed from all of the champagne and dancing. He waltzed in, spun me around, and set me down like a gentleman.

And then locked the door behind us, his eyes sweeping over me like a predator. The moment it clicked shut, he moved.

His hands found my waist, yanking me against him so fast the breath left my lungs. His mouth landed on mine in the same instant, a growl low in his throat.

“You looked like a fucking goddess out there,” he rasped against my neck. “And every man who stared at you knew they’d lose their life if they so much as breathed wrong.”

He spun me, unfastening the delicate row of buttons Laura had secured earlier, undoing every one with a patience that made me ache.“You’re beautiful, baby,” he said, dragging the gown from my body.

I gasped as the silk hit the floor, leaving me in white lace panties.

He didn’t give me time to respond. Rafe pounced.

My back hit the wall before I could even catch my breath. His mouth crushed against mine. His hands were everywhere, gripping my hips, sliding up my thighs, cupping my breasts.

“Look at you,” he growled into my mouth. “ Fuck , you’re perfect. Leave those pretty white heels on.”

His voice was thick with want. Command. Worship. He dropped to his knees, mouth hot against my skin as he kissed a path down my torso. His hands were firm and unrelenting as he dragged my panties down my legs. My breath stuttered right there.

“Mine now,” he murmured against my aching pussy. “And forever.”

And then he lifted my leg over his shoulder and devoured me. His tongue licked through me with long, slow strokes that made my legs tremble, his hands pinning my thighs apart like he’d tie me to the wall if he had to.

“Oh, fuck,” I panted, my hips desperately grinding into him.

Rafe knew exactly what to do with my body.

So much so, that I’d orgasm within minutes.

I moaned, my hands tangling in his hair as he expertly fucked me with his mouth relentlessly, until I came with a cry that echoed off the high hotel walls.

But he didn’t stop.

He stood abruptly, lifting me like I weighed nothing, and carried me to the bed. My back hit the mattress in a tangle of limbs and soft moans, the world spinning as he stripped off his jacket, his shirt, and his belt, never once taking his eyes off me.

My mouth went dry at the sight of him. Ripped muscle, inked skin, eyes dark with primal lust. He crawled over me like a wolf, eager to tear into me.

“You’re shaking,” he said with a wild grin. “Is it fear, Mrs. Vaughan?”

“No,” I breathed, goosebumps breaking out at his words. “It’s need.”

“Good,” he said. “Because I’m going to give you everything. But not gently.”

“You know I like it when you’re rough with me.” I bit my lip under his heavy-lidded glacial gaze.

His cock pressed hard and thick against my thigh, and I arched up into him desperately. My hunger for him was so wild I almost wanted to cry and beg for him to just fuck me already.

As if he could see my internal struggle, he caught my jaw in one hand and tilted my head so I met his gaze. And then he thrust into me with one brutal, perfect stroke.

I cried out in pleasure, shock, and pure fucking bliss. My hands flew to his back as he filled me completely.

He groaned, his muscular arms bracing on either side of me. “So fucking tight, baby.” A deep thrust. “My wife.”

Thrust.

“My fucking wife .”

My eyes rolled back as his cock stretched me. He set a punishing rhythm, hips slamming into mine, a large hand gripping my wrists and pinning them above my head. His mouth found my throat, my collarbone, my breast–biting, sucking, and marking. I returned the favor, nipping at his jaw and his neck.

“You’re mine,” he snarled, his other hand closing around my throat. “Say it.”

“Yes, sir,” I gasped. “I’m yours.”

He moved faster. “Say my fucking name, little doe.”

“Rafe,” I moaned, tilting my hips as if I could take him deeper.

He growled, the sound torn from his chest like it had been buried there for years. He flipped me effortlessly onto my stomach, yanked my hips up, and slammed back into me so deep I saw stars.

“You’re going to feel me for days ,” he said, voice a snarl in the dark. “Every time you sit, every time you walk–”

I moaned as he fucked me harder, his fingers tangling in my hair from behind.

“–you’ll remember who owns this perfect little cunt.”

My orgasm hit me like lightning, tearing through me so violently I sobbed his name. He followed with a low, vicious groan, spilling into me with one final, shuddering thrust, collapsing over me as his breath fanned hot across my shoulder.

For a moment, we were nothing but gasps and sweat and trembling limbs. Then he kissed the back of my neck softly. “I told you I couldn’t wait to destroy you,” he whispered.

I grinned, entirely satisfied. “Trust me, I couldn’t either. I may or may have warmed myself up before the ceremony.”

He turned me over to face him. “You’re fucking amazing, Dela. Christ .”

***

I woke to the warmth of his body wrapped around mine, one heavy arm draped over my waist, his hand splayed against my stomach.

Beautiful golden light poured through the tall windows of the penthouse suite, filtering through sheer curtains.

The scent of sex and expensive cologne clung to the sheets, to my skin. To him.

My thighs ached in the best kind of way. My voice was hoarse after a fun night. I turned my head slightly, catching the edge of his jaw where a bruise was blooming, probably from where I’d bitten him. His lips curved lazily without opening his eyes.

“Morning, wife,” he rasped, voice thick with sleep and happiness.

A flush crept over my chest from how that single word made something low in me coil tight. “Morning, husband .”

His arm tightened, pulling me flush against him with ease. I felt the heat of him at my back, already hard again. Always ready. Fuck . He pressed a kiss to my shoulder, then another, lower. “You alive?”

“Barely.” I smiled, biting back a groan as I stretched. “You didn’t exactly go easy on me.”

He laughed darkly into my skin. “Didn’t hear you complaining. Not the first, second, or the third time.”

“No complaining here,” I said. “I lost count of how many orgasms you forced out of me.”

That made him roll me onto my back in one fluid motion, his body covering mine, mouth brushing over my collarbone. “You’re my sweet girl,” he whispered. “I’ll force as many out of you as I want to.”

A shiver ran through me.

He kissed me slowly this time.

Eventually, I tangled my fingers in his hair and murmured, “You still want to leave today?”

He pulled back slightly, eyes narrowing in that way that always made my pulse race. “You trying to cancel our honeymoon, Sinclair-Vaughan?”

“No,” I said, amused at his tone. “Just wondering if we’ll actually make it onto the jet without getting distracted again.” I ground my hips against his.

He smirked, biting his lip. “We’ll fuck on the jet.”

“ Of course , we will,” I muttered, laughing. “Silly of me to even assume otherwise.”

He trailed his fingers over the curve of my hip, teasing. “I rented the entire island, you know.”

I blinked. “You what? ”

“Private villa. Private beach. Armed guards at the perimeter and no one within a five-mile radius. Just you. Me. And whatever sins we decide to commit for the next ten days.”

I stared at him. “You call that a honeymoon?”

“I call it heaven ,” he said, pressing his forehead to mine. “And after everything we’ve survived, don’t we deserve it?”

A long silence passed. I touched his cheek, letting myself really look at him. My monster. My everything.

“Yeah,” I whispered. “We do.”

He kissed my cheek before easing out of the bed. We deserved this.