Page 4 of Monsters Carve Thrones (Crowned Monsters Duet #2)

(TW: Somnophilia)

The change in air pressure had nothing on the electricity crackling between us.

Rafe’s eyes hadn’t left me since the car, watching me like he was already planning which part of me to kiss first once the door sealed behind us.

Our relationship had been spicy as hell since the very beginning.

But even underneath all of that, I knew he genuinely loved me.

I could tell in our quiet evenings together, making dinner or watching movies.

I could feel it when he’d fall asleep with his head on my lap on the couch after a long day. He was… everything to me.

The jet was sleek and luxurious, all leather, dark wood, and understated wealth. We barely reached our seats before his hand found the small of my back, sliding lower with a possessiveness I knew far too well.

I had files to review, and Rafe, to his credit, gave me a moment to do that before disappearing for ten days.

“I spoke to Laura,” I said, crossing my legs and pulling a thin folder from my bag.

“She’s handling the West Coast client meetings while we’re gone, and Martin’s coordinating with cyber ops from Geneva. ”

His eyes flicked down to my legs, then back up. “You trust her with that?”

“With my life.”

He tilted his head, admiring. “Of course you do. She’d kill for you.”

“And I’d kill for her,” I said, flipping through the pages, trying to keep my voice steady.

“You,” he murmured, his voice dipping into venom. “Are a wildfire in stilettos, my love.”

I didn’t blink. “Hope you can handle it, sweetie. ”

The silence stretched between us. His gaze flicked back down to my legs. He leaned forward slightly in his chair, forearms resting on his knees, like a predator assessing his prey's ability to run.

“I can handle it,” he said with a smirk.

He stood. My heart skipped. He crossed the space between us with that dark, elegant grace only Rafe Vaughan could pull off–slow, intentional, his gaze never leaving mine. He was the most intense man I’d ever met. I closed the folder gently, my breath stuttering when he pulled me to my feet.

“I’m not afraid of whatever danger you have planned,” I said, full of attitude.

“I know,” he whispered. Then, with a grin, “It’s why I love you.” His mouth crashed onto mine–hands on my waist, my jaw, my throat. His tongue teased until I moaned, and his grin was pure sin.

“Do you remember when I finger-fucked you in my limo?” he murmured against my lips. “The way you dug your nails into my chest?”

I bit my lip to stifle a moan.

He shoved me back, pressing me against the wall of the cabin.

My body arched into him instinctively, already aching, already soaked with anticipation.

No one had ever made me feel like this. Like pleasure was something violent and downright unholy.

“God, I think about that all the time.” He kissed me again, his tongue sweeping in to dance with mine.

I was feral for him. My blood sang with it.

He smiled that wicked, infuriating smile. “You don’t question. You obey. When I want your body, you’re going to give it to me.”

And I did. Because he didn’t just own my body. He owned the dark, desperate need that lived under my skin, the wild part of me that didn’t want safety. I wanted the rough hands and brutal thrusts. I wanted to be fucked and claimed by this man who resembled Satan himself.

His mouth was on mine before I could even catch my breath, pinning me against the cabin wall like I’d been made to be handled this way.

Rafe’s hand slipped beneath the hem of my blue floral dress, his touch entirely without patience.

His lips trailed to my neck, sucking hard enough to bruise, and I arched into him with a sharp gasp.

“There you go, baby,” he whispered, voice dark and low. “You’re the most beautiful woman in the fucking world. And knowing you’re my wife?” he snorted. “Insane.”

“And I tamed The Dark Monster of New York,” I rasped, biting back another moan as he lifted me effortlessly onto the polished wood ledge by the window. The world below us was a blur, but he was crystal clear. Every inch of muscle and power locked on me.

His fingers trailed up my inner thigh. “Ugh, yes you did,” he groaned, sliding a finger beneath the lace.

I shivered, arching my hips forward, urging his fingers inside me.

He smirked, that wicked little curve of his mouth lighting something primal in my chest. “When I’m done with your pussy, I’m going to force you onto your knees.”

I couldn’t hold back my whimper at that.

His grip tightened as he kissed me again, slower and deeper. Every pass of his tongue, every bite of his teeth, pushed me further out of my mind. He tasted like mint and darkness and absolute control.

I tried to pull him close, but he gripped my wrists, pinning them above my head.

“No,” he growled, eyes burning into mine. “You wanted dominance. You married it.”

God, I was unraveling. He knew exactly what I needed, even before I did. My whole body desperately ached for him.

He slid down to his knees, bunching my dress around my waist, and kissed the inside of my thigh.

I could barely suck in a breath before his tongue slid over my clit.

He didn’t let up, not once. I cried out for him, hands twisted in his hair, hips bucking helplessly as wave after wave crashed through me.

He held me still through it all, growling something obscene when I begged, again, again, again.

When he finally rose, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, I was trembling. And he wasn’t even close to done.

He unfastened his belt slowly, those heavy-lidded eyes sweeping over my flushed face. “Hands on the seat. Back arched. Now .”

My body moved before my brain caught up, sinking into the soft leather while his hand slid up my spine in one stroke.

“You’re going to cum for me every fucking day,” he whispered into my ear, lining himself up. His thickness was hot, pushing just the tip inside me. “On my cock. On my tongue. On my goddamn fingers. Hell, even on my thigh when your eager ass rides it in bed at night. Got that?”

I nodded furiously, panting at his cock now working its way deeper.

And then he slammed his hips against my ass, finally seating himself fully. I yelped at the sudden burn of intrusion. The rest was a blur of motion and sound. Of sharp cries and filthy praise. Of dominance and surrender and so much pleasure I thought I’d pass out from it.

His hands tightened on my hips as he pounded into me, every thrust a claim, every growl in my ear another layer of madness. I could barely breathe. This was heaven and hell, and I was drowning in both.

“ Goddammit , Dela,” he rasped against my shoulder, and I shattered again, my body arching, trembling, convulsing around him as I screamed his name. From behind, he tugged the neckline of my dress down, exposing my breasts.

“ Ugh , baby, you’re so fucking perfect.

” His fingers dug into my skin as he expertly rode out my orgasm.

He pulled out at the last second, chest heaving, his muscles taut and twitching with restraint as his hand wrapped around himself.

His fingers fisted in my hair while he pushed me onto my knees. “Eyes up here, baby.”

I did as he asked. I watched him stroke his cock, his other hand forcing my gaze to his. A few rough strokes and then–

He groaned, shooting his load all over me. It was hot and thick, painting my chest in messy streaks. My eyes widened, my heart hammering as I watched him–my husband–watching me .

There was something in the way his icy eyes raked over me.

He leaned in and rubbed it across my breasts, his fingers moving in lazy circles as I twitched beneath him, every nerve ending still lit like a live wire.

I was shaking, gasping, strung out and wrecked, and more in love with him than I’d ever been in my life.

“You look so good covered in me,” he said roughly, his voice low and satisfied. “Might make a habit of it.”

I laughed, dazed and high from pleasure.

“Stand up,” he commanded, holding out his hand to help me up.

My legs shook beneath me as I eased to my feet. I loved him like this. Bossy.

“Good girl,” he murmured, dragging his fingers, still covered in his release, down my stomach. “Can’t allow this pussy to get away without any of my cum.”

Holy shit. My knees nearly buckled when he plunged his fingers inside of me. An embarrassing sound escaped me when he placed his forearm across my chest, trapping me against the wall.

“That’s my girl,” he growled, fucking me with his cum-soaked fingers before pulling out and leaving me panting and desperate for more.

“What the fuck,” I whined.

He chuckled, wiping his hand on a towel before cleaning my chest. “Don’t worry, little doe. We’ll finish that later.”

We were just cleaning up when the pilot announced we were nearing the island. God, I was so excited to get railed every goddamn day. And to see what filth he had planned for me.

***

RAFE

The ocean was silent in a way cities could never be.

No sirens, no traffic. Just wind, waves, and the sound of her laughter echoing off the palm trees like a damn symphony.

I stood barefoot on the wooden deck of the villa, shirt unbuttoned, watching Adela in the distance with her feet in the surf, her light blue kimono blowing in the breeze.

She wore a stunning black bikini underneath.

My wife.

Fuck, I didn’t think that word could hit this hard.

She hadn’t just taken my name. She’d taken the part of me I never offered to anyone. The part still covered in blood and gunsmoke and things I could never wash off no matter how hard I tried. And she hadn’t abandoned me.

I’d burned men alive for less than the way she looked at me. Like I was hers . Like the monster she married was still a man worth loving somehow.

And maybe I was. For her.