Page 45 of Monsters Carve Thrones (Crowned Monsters Duet #2)

We didn’t go far–just a little restaurant outside the city. Candlelight, jazz humming softly through vintage speakers, and a quiet table in the corner that I’d reserved days ago. It was perfect. Not extravagant. Just… warm.

Intimate .

She ordered pasta and red wine. I stuck to sparkling water, even though the smell of her wine was temptation itself. Her eyes met mine over the rim of her glass, and for a second, all the noise of the world disappeared.

“I missed this,” she said with a smile.

I reached across the table, brushing my thumb across the back of her hand.

“Me too.” The candlelight flickered against her skin, and I watched her.

There was still pain in her eyes, yes. Still moments where her shoulders tensed at a loud noise, or her jaw tightened when someone passed too close behind her.

But there was light there, too. The beginning of a return.

“You know,” she said after a while, twirling her pasta with her fork, “I thought about this when I was locked away. Stupid little daydreams. A dinner. A quiet night. You… smiling at me like this.”

I swallowed. Hard. My chest ached with the force of my love for her. “Every night without you... I was haunted,” I said.

“That makes two of us,” she replied, smirking softly.

I laughed, but it broke in the middle. “We’ve been through so much together. It’s actually crazy.”

She stared at me then, something shifting in her gaze. Like the weight of my words hit somewhere deep. She reached for her wine again, but her fingers trembled slightly. I covered them with mine.

“I’d do anything for you.”

“I know,” she said.

We walked outside after dinner. The night air was crisp, stars bright above us.

I held her close, her head leaning against my shoulder as we strolled toward the edge of the overlook behind the restaurant.

Neither one of us said anything at first. It was nice to just enjoy this moment together. We were safe. We were together.

Then she looked up at me.

Those eyes. God, those lovely blue eyes.

“Do you still want me?” she asked. Barely a whisper. “I know I’ve been... I mean... I was…”

I froze.

“Are you serious?” I turned to face her, both hands cupping her face.

“Adela… I’ve never stopped wanting you. Every second of every day, I’ve wanted you.

Dreamed about you. Your moans. Your hands on me.

I’ve wanted you so much I thought it might fucking kill me.

It almost did. What that fucking monster did to you doesn’t take away from who you are.

” I trailed off, suddenly remembering my own crime against her. “ No man can break you. ”

She inhaled sharply, her eyes suddenly glistening with unshed tears.

“But I need you to come back to me. All the way. When you’re ready.”

Her fingers gripped my shirt, tugging me just a little closer. “I really want to,” she whispered. “I think being with you… it might help me find my way back.”

I leaned in slowly, giving her every chance to pull back.

She didn’t. Our lips met, soft, tasting of wine.

Her fingers threaded through my hair, and I groaned low in my throat, pulling her closer.

There was heat. So much heat. But there was also something quieter just beneath the surface.

It felt like hesitancy or nervousness. My Adela.

.. she was never this woman. But I fucking loved her. And I’d see her through anything.

I didn’t rush it. I just held her there in the starlight, kissing her like she was the only reason the world kept turning. Because she was.

And when I looked at her again, her cheeks were flushed, her lips parted, and her eyes were glassy with emotion. “I love you so much,” I whispered.

She smiled. “I know.”

The ride home was quiet, but it was full of tension. A thousand unspoken words hummed in the space between our hands where our fingers were loosely intertwined. Adela kept glancing over at me, and every time our eyes met, something shifted inside me.

And Christ , the idea of having her again was driving me out of my goddamn mind. By the time I parked, my cock was already hard from the tension alone. The last thing I wanted was for her to feel pressured after everything she’d been through, so I was grateful for my suit jacket in my lap.

I opened her door like a gentleman, but I was barely holding myself together. I didn’t touch her beyond what I needed to. But the second the front door of our townhouse shut behind us, she made the move.

She grabbed my shirt with both hands, yanking me down into a kiss that was desperate and hungry and hers . My world fucking stopped.

My hands cupped her face as I kissed her back, my breathing suddenly stuttering. Her lips opened to me, hot and sweet, and I swear to God I lost it a little. My hands slid into her hair, her waist, everywhere at once.

“Rafe,” she breathed into my mouth, her voice trembling with need. “I want you.”

I froze. My heart punched against my ribs. “Are you sure? Please don’t feel like you owe me anything, I don’t you to–”

She didn’t hesitate. “More than anything.”

I didn’t wait. I scooped her up and carried her to the bedroom, savoring how her nails dug into my shoulders in anticipation.

I laid her down gently, my eyes roving over her perfect form. I stared for a long moment. Her chest rose and fell with nervous, excited little breaths. Her pupils were blown wide. Her lips were kiss-bitten and parted. She was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen. And she was mine .

I touched her like I had all the time in the world.

My fingers skimmed her jaw, her collarbone, and the edge of her breast. I was reacquainting myself with her body, tracing paths I’d ached to return to for weeks.

She reached up and threaded her fingers through the buttons of my shirt, undoing them slowly.

When she saw the faint scar on my shoulder–the one where Nico dug the bullet out–her eyes glassed over. “You got shot for me,” she whispered, reminding me.

I leaned in, brushing her lips with mine. “I’d take a hundred more if it meant your safety.”

Her hands trembled as she pushed the shirt from my shoulders. Her mouth opened like she wanted to say something else, but instead, she kissed me. It was slow, deep, and full of a kind of desperate gratitude that stole my fucking soul.

I didn’t rip her dress off like I wanted to. I took it slower. Every inch I exposed, I kissed. Her shoulder. Her sternum. The swell of her breast. I dragged the fabric down slowly, tasting her skin, breathing her in like I’d die without it.

“You’re so goddamn beautiful,” I whispered, tugging the dress over her hips.

She was wearing a little black thong–barely there. My cock strained at the sight. I hooked a finger in the band and dragged it down her thighs, mouth following as I went, until she was bare beneath me.

I stood, pulling my belt loose with a hard tug.

Her eyes locked on mine the whole time, and I scanned her face.

“Are you sure, baby?” I asked again, my voice hoarse.

Her nod was slow, but it was all I needed.

I knelt over her, dragged her to the edge of the bed, and pushed inside with a slow, careful thrust. Her heat wrapped around me so tight, so perfect, I almost came right then and there. “ Jesus ,” I groaned, bracing myself over her. “You feel like… fuck, Adela…”

She gasped, legs tightening around my waist, her nails dragging down my back as she arched into me.

“You’re okay,” I murmured, lips brushing her ear. “You’re mine. I’ve got you.”

“I’m okay,” she whispered, pulling me in for a kiss so deep I forgot how to breathe.

I moved slowly, losing myself in the feel of her.

I wasn’t fucking her... I was worshipping her.

Giving her everything I’d been holding back.

My hands slid under her back, and my mouth found her neck, her jaw, her lips.

And God, the way she looked at me... like I was everything .

“I love you,” I breathed against her mouth.

Her eyes filled again, but she didn’t look away. “I love you, too. I missed you every fucking day.”

I kissed her then, but it wasn’t soft this time.

I had been saved from the brink of fucking hell, and I wasn’t about to miss out on the incredible joy of her.

Her walls fluttered around me, her legs tightening, her moans growing louder, broken, frantic.

I kept my pace steady yet not too rough.

I wanted to really feel her. My eyes rolled back listening to her breathy little whimpers.

“Fuck,” I growled, shifting to go deeper. “You feel like heaven, baby.”

“Rafe,” she whimpered. “Oh my god… I–I can’t–”

Her head tipped back, her body shuddering beneath mine. Her pussy clenched so hard around me that it nearly broke me.

“That’s it, little doe,” I whispered, my hand cradling her jaw. “Come for me.”

She fell apart, gasping, crying out my name in a sound I’d hold in my bones forever.

My forehead rested against hers while I followed her over the edge, thrusting once, twice more before burying myself as deep as I could.

My orgasm crashed through me like a fucking tidal wave.

I groaned as I came inside her, every muscle flexing and trembling.

When it was over, I didn’t move.

I held her. Her body was warm and shaking, her skin slick with sweat. My arms wrapped around her, one hand smoothing back her hair while her breath slowed beneath me. Her legs were still around my hips like she didn’t want to let me go.

I kissed her temple. “I’ve got you,” I whispered. “I’ll always have you.”

Exhausted and sated, I swept her up into my arms and carried her to the bathroom. She didn’t say anything, but I knew she was happy by how she held me.

She was only gone for a few minutes before she joined me under the blankets, scooting her behind closer. My chest pressed to her back, one arm curled around her waist, the other smoothing down her hair. She was quiet, peaceful, tucked perfectly against me.

It wasn’t long before her breathing evened out, and I knew she’d fallen asleep.