Page 18 of Monsters Wear Crowns (Crowned Monsters Duet #1)

The second the privacy window clicked into place, the air in the car grew thick. It was oppressive and charged. I barely had time to shift in my seat before Rafe moved.

He was on me in an instant with a swift, undeniable certainty.

His hand found my jaw, tilting my face toward his as his body crowded mine, and then his mouth was on me.

The kiss was a slow burn and a collision all at once–a clash of heat and control, his teeth dragging against my lower lip before his tongue slid against mine.

My fingers curled into his suit jacket without conscious thought, and the low sound he made in response sent a wild burst of heat through me.

“Oh, baby.” He smiled, all teeth. “You’ve been so starved of your desires that every time you’re around me, all that’s in your pretty head is the thought of me fucking you.”

Before I could form a response, his hand slid down my throat, his fingers tracing the line of my collarbone before slipping lower to my breasts. The heat of his palm burned through the fabric of my dress, and when he leaned in again, his mouth brushed my ear.

“This dress…” he whispered, his voice like velvet and razor wire. “Do you want me to stop?”

I didn’t.

Instead, my breath caught when he pulled the neckline of my dress apart, exposing my full breasts to him. He knew I needed him. Of course, he knew.

“God, you’re beautiful,” he murmured, his teeth grazing my skin. The car hit a bump in the road, and I shifted closer to him without meaning to. His hand tightened on my hip, anchoring me, and the slight roughness of his touch sent sparks of sensation skittering across my skin.

“I should make you wait,” he said softly, his fingers tracing slow circles along my thigh. “But I don’t think you’d like that, would you, Dela ?”

That damn nickname. I hated the way it made my stomach flip and made me want to hear him say it again and again in that low, sinful voice. “I hate you,” I whispered, but my fingers were already tangling in his hair, pulling his mouth back to mine.

He laughed against my lips, dark and wicked.

“No, you don’t.” And when his hand slid higher, his touch turning dangerous and deliberate, I didn’t push him away.

I didn’t stop him. In fact, I spread my thighs for him.

My breath came out in ragged gasps as his fingers looped inside my red lace panties.

His fingers were fucking magic , and I couldn’t deny myself.

For years, I’d been so full of angst and stress.

And now, when I could finally release some of the pressure, I was not about to turn it down.

If he wanted to use me, I could use him, too.

The heat between us was clawing and consuming. And when Rafe’s mouth found mine again, it was nothing like the slow, teasing kiss from before. This was raw and demanding. Teeth and tongue and a hunger that felt like it might swallow me whole.

I gasped against his lips, but the sound turned into a low, broken noise when his fingers massaged my clit with maddening slowness.

“You’re shaking,” he murmured, his mouth trailing down my jaw. His teeth scraped my skin, and I jerked against him, but his grip only tightened, keeping me exactly where he wanted me.

“Because you’re–” My words broke off in another soft, involuntary sound when his fingers flexed, teasing just enough to make my pulse stutter wildly.

“Because I’m what? ” he taunted, his breath hot against my throat.

“Honestly? A nightmare.”

“That’s right, mon amour.” His laugh was dark and low. “I’m your fucking nightmare.”

I hated how right he was.

But when two fingers pushed inside, all thoughts of hate and defiance slipped away. The air between us suddenly felt so goddamn, my breath coming faster as his touch grew bolder. My nails bit into his shoulders, but Rafe didn’t flinch. If anything, the pressure only seemed to spur him on.

“Do you want me to stop?” he asked again, knowing I didn’t.

Instead, I arched against him, my body making the decision my pride refused to voice.

“There you go,” he whispered. “You can’t say no to me, Dela.

Because your body fucking needs me.” His teeth grazed my throat, his other hand pressing me back into the leather seat as he claimed my mouth again.

The kiss was wild. It was heat and need and the unmistakable promise of what was coming next.

My mind reeled at the thought of his thick cock stretching me again.

“I cannot wait to feel that tight little pussy again.”

I whimpered. I fucking whimpered. Who was this Adela?

The car slowed, the hum of the engine changing as we pulled up to what I assumed was my building. But Rafe didn’t move. He stayed exactly where he was, his weight pinning me down, his hand still exploring in slow, torturous strokes that had me almost arching off the seat.

“Upstairs,” he said against my mouth, his voice rough and low. “Now.”

When the door opened and his hand wrapped around mine, I let him pull me out of the car without hesitation. We strode through the lobby, and I smiled at the concierge as if I wasn’t just getting finger-fucked in the back of this man’s limo.

And when the elevator doors closed, sealing us in with that tension still crackling between us, I didn’t stop him when his mouth found mine again. Eagerly, I lifted a leg to curl around his waist. He answered in kind by grabbing onto my thigh.

I didn’t want to stop. Not anymore.

God, I needed this man. He was indeed the missing puzzle piece in my life.

He was mysterious and gave me exactly what I’d been craving.

With him by my side, I had everything. I was a fucking queen in New York City.

He shoved me into the wall with a roughness that almost had me whimpering again.

I wanted him to be rough with me. But I was still too nervous to ask him.

My fantasies were dark…and he was someone who would gladly bring them to life. But it still felt…wrong.

The elevator ride was an eternity.

Rafe’s hand stayed on the small of my back, his touch searing through the thin fabric of my gown. Neither of us spoke, but the silence wasn’t empty. It was heavy and insanely electric. Every brush of his fingers sent a fresh wave of desire rolling through me.

When the elevator chimed and the doors slid open, his hand moved to my wrist, his grip firm and sure as he led me toward my apartment.

It looked as pristine as ever with the city pulsing behind the towering windows.

But I could barely put my purse down because the second the door clicked shut behind us, Rafe was on me again.

He couldn’t get enough of me like I couldn’t get enough of him. We were goddamn animals.

His mouth collided with mine with a desperation that stole my breath. My back hit the wall, his body trapping me, and I welcomed it–the hard planes of his chest, the way his hands slid down my waist and gripped my hips like he was staking his claim.

“You knew this would happen,” he rasped against my lips. “The second you walked into that room tonight, you knew.”

“Maybe I did,” I shot back, my voice breathless. “And maybe I wanted it.”

His answering growl vibrated against my throat, his teeth scraping along my skin. “Then say it, little doe. Say you fucking want me.”

But I wasn’t ready to give in that easily, not yet. So, instead of answering, I tilted my chin, baring my throat in silent invitation.

Rafe took it.

His mouth descended on me–teeth and tongue and heat–and my knees threatened to buckle. His hands slid down my back, over my ass, before he hooked one leg around his waist and pinned me tighter against the wall.

“Still defiant,” he murmured against my skin. “I like that. But you’ll break for me, Adela. You’ll shatter, and it will be the most beautiful fucking sight. You’ll beg me to fuck you. Beg me to fill you. And you’ll gladly take whatever I want to do to you.”

The words shouldn’t have made my stomach tighten the way they did. But, fuck , they did.

His hands slid up my thigh, bunching the fabric of my dress as he went. When his fingers finally brushed against my pussy, I couldn’t hold back the gasp that escaped me.

“See?” he whispered, his voice like smoke. “You’re already so fucking wet for me.”

“Don’t get cocky,” I managed, even as my body arched toward him.

But his answering laugh was pure sin. “Too late.” He kissed me again, deeper and rougher this time. And when his hand moved higher, his touch turning bolder, my last thread of resistance snapped.

“Fuck,” I whispered against his mouth, my nails digging into his shoulders.

“Good girl,” he praised, his voice low and rough. “Now tell me what you want.”

But I didn’t have to. Because Rafe already knew, and he was more than ready to give it to me. His fingers traced slow, torturous patterns on my clit again, every stroke sending sparks through my body. He grabbed my throat roughly, his body pressing harder against mine.

He kissed like he wanted to own me, and damn it, I let him. He tasted of sweet wine and debaucherous sin. My fingers curled against his grip, my body arching into his like it couldn’t get close enough.

When his hand finally released my throat, it didn’t waste any time. He dragged my dress higher with one hand while the other fucked me. I whimpered, allowing my head to fall back against the wall. I felt the sharp curve of his smile against my throat.

“Already so ready for me,” he teased. “You can pretend to fight me all you want, Adela, but your body?” His hand slipped lower. “Your body doesn’t lie.”

“Shut up,” I managed, even as my knees threatened to give out.

He laughed, low and wicked. “Make me.”

So I did.

I slammed my mouth against his, my hands tangling in his hair as I kissed him like I wanted to drown. And when he lifted me, wrapping my legs around his waist, I let him carry me without protest. Let him take control because I needed this more than anything.