Page 4 of Monsters Wear Crowns (Crowned Monsters Duet #1)

The bass from the bar lounge pulsed through my chest, swallowing everything else.

The air was thick with the scent of alcohol, perfume, and the kind of desperation that only appeared under neon lights.

Bodies pressed together on the dance floor, lost in the music and the promise of forgetting. I could use some forgetting .

Laura, the devil on my shoulder, pressed a shot into my hand. “To losing control,” she shouted over the music, her blue eyes flashing with mischief.

I smirked, clinking my glass against hers. “To pretending we ever had it.” The burn of tequila was sharp and clean, a fleeting warmth that chased away the day’s headache.

She grabbed my wrist, dragging me into the chaos of the dance floor. She was wild and unapologetic–hips swaying, arms in the air, reveling in the attention of strangers who dared to get too close.

The pulse of the night felt good. The alcohol, the music, Laura’s laughter–it chipped away at the ice I’d wrapped around myself this past week. All of the long days at the office and threats I had to make to any unruly clients.

But just as I spun back to Laura, I froze.

I felt it.

The unmistakable sensation of being watched.

It was different from the usual fleeting glances and hungry stares the bar invited.

This one lingered heavily. I slowed, my body still moving with the beat, but my senses sharpened.

I scanned the dim space, neon lights slicing through the dark. Faces blurred–too many, too close.

Then, through the haze of movement, my eyes landed on him .

A man, leaning against the upstairs balcony, his silhouette carved from shadow. His black hood again concealed his face. The crowd flowed around him, but he remained still, detached. He wasn’t drinking. He wasn’t with anyone. He was simply...watching.

My pulse quickened, but not from fear. From something far more dangerous. Maybe it was the alcohol, but I seriously contemplated marching right up to him and demanding a dance.

I felt Laura appear at my side, following my gaze. “Well, well,” she purred, her lips curving in a wicked smile. “Seems like you’ve got an admirer. And not the usual desperate type.”

“I noticed.” My voice was even, but my heart was racing.

“Should we invite him to play?” she teased, eyes glinting with amusement.

I kept my eyes on him. “No. He’s not my type, I’m afraid.” He was. But my best friend didn’t know the fantasies I often played in my mind late at night. Of being hunted and used. I thought it was because I was so dominant in my daily life.

Laura’s laugh was soft and sinful. “Oh, darling...I doubt that.”

The air was electric with the heartbeat of the music and the heat of bodies moving in a wild rhythm. My heart matched the bass, a steady, primal thrum that vibrated through my chest. I felt the weight of his stare still burning on my skin. But when I finally turned back to the balcony–he was gone.

The sudden emptiness where he had stood made my stomach knot.

The crowd seemed denser now, faces flashing and blending under the shifting lights.

For a fleeting moment, unease brushed against my spine, cold and whisper-thin.

But then Laura was there, her arm looping through mine as she grinned, eyes glinting like she could read every thought racing through her head.

“Lost him already?” she teased, voice honeyed and sharp. “Shame.”

I huffed softly, tossing my hair over one shoulder. “Coward.”

“Or...patient,” Laura countered with a smirk. “C’mon. Drink with me.”

Three shots later, the warmth had returned, smoothing over my nerves with a golden haze.

The music felt like a current, and I let myself be swept back into it, moving with Laura through the writhing bodies, the crowd swallowing us whole.

But the feeling hadn’t entirely left me.

I danced with my back straight, my senses alive.

I could still feel it–that pull. Only now, it was different.

A new presence.

A brush of air as someone moved behind me, close enough for my skin to hum with awareness. I turned–and there he was.

Tall. Broad-shouldered. Messy blonde hair that fell just enough to frame a pair of rich, brown eyes. He was effortlessly disheveled, the kind of man who wore carelessness confidently. But his gaze was sharp, studying me in the half-darkness with a hint of hunger.

I didn’t step back. Instead, I met his eyes and let the corner of my lips curl.

He understood.

Without a word, his hands found my waist. We moved together, my body following his lead as though we’d done this a hundred times. Heat sparked, an invisible tether tightening with every shift of our hips.

Laura’s playful voice, laced with amusement, cut through. “Someone’s having fun.” She shot me a wink from the edge of the dance floor before disappearing into the crowd.

I barely registered it. My focus was singular now, the rest of the room melting away until only he existed–his touch, his heat, and the slow, simmering tension building between our bodies. I wondered if that man still lingered.

A thought flickered through my mind: I felt safer with this one here. Safer from whoever else might be watching. So, I decided to bring him home.

He leaned in, capturing my lips in a greedy kiss that set a blazing fire in the pit of my being.

His strong, muscular arms enveloped me while the pulsating music around us swallowed the small moan that slipped from my lips.

I needed this release, this surge of feeling coursing through me.

When our lips finally parted, I took a moment to glance over and saw Laura grinding against an attractive brunette man.

“What’s your name?” my dance partner inquired, his voice a low, seductive murmur that resonated over the beat.

I laughed, realizing that I had tasted him before even knowing his name. “I’m Adela,” I replied, my voice laced with playful amusement.

He kissed me again, his lips warm and inviting. “Louis,” he murmured softly against my mouth.

I smiled, my curiosity piqued and eager to discover the contours of his body hidden beneath that shirt. “Nice to meet you, Louis,” I said, my words carrying a hint of anticipation.

The air between us burned hotter than the pulse of the bar lounge as I tugged Louis through the entrance of my building.

Our wild and reckless laughter wove into the music, our bodies brushing with every step.

I felt his pace slow, his gaze sweeping across the marble floors and towering windows, eyes wide with surprise.

“Impressed?” I teased, a playful edge curling my lips.

His grin was crooked, lazy. “Didn’t peg you for the palace type.”

I smirked, my fingers curling into his shirt as I pulled him into the waiting elevator.

“Good. You won’t know what to expect next.

” The doors slid closed, trapping us in a space thick with unspoken tension.

His gaze raked over me, and it sent a thrill through my veins.

Could he handle me? I doubted it. But I was willing to let him try.

Inside my penthouse, the city’s hum was a distant murmur beneath soft, ambient lighting. We barely made it through the door before his hands snatched my waist, and I welcomed them with a sharp, hungry smile.

Then it blurred–heat, laughter, the crash of lips and bodies.

His hands explored my body with a confident, practiced touch. I guided him into my dimly lit bedroom, pulling him on top of me. In a matter of moments, our clothes lay scattered across the floor.

“Your body is fucking amazing,” he rasped against my lips as he slipped an eager finger inside me.

I gasped, my back arching against the hard planes of his muscular body.

My hand reached down, tracing the length of his pleasurably substantial cock.

His mouth journeyed down to my full, heavy breasts while his fingers pushed deeper.

I parted my thighs wider, inviting him in with an unspoken invitation.

With a hungry smile, he teased himself against my sensitive clit.

My eyes rolled back, nails digging into his back, each sensation intensifying the anticipation.

I hoped he could satisfy the longing he had ignited within me.

Louis swiftly unwrapped a condom and rolled it on before driving into me. A deep groan escaped his lips as he quickly established a rhythm, each movement filled with raw passion and an almost primal intensity. Moments like this reminded me of how badly we all craved sex.

He kissed me deeply and fucked me with a hunger that matched my own.

His lips were soft yet demanding, his cock stretching me deliciously, and his grunts were undeniably arousing.

The sheets twisted around us, breaths mingled in the heated air, and I felt the undeniable truth–Louis was exceptional, the kind of man capable of ruining any woman.

But not me.

No matter how skilled, how eager, there was a part of me he couldn’t reach–a hollow place untouched, unfulfilled. But I drank in the raw need in his eyes, the starvation burning beneath his hands. It was enough, for now, to be wanted so desperately.

Tonight, I would let him believe he could have me. Tonight, I would let him try.

***

The faint buzz of my phone shattered the soft quiet of the morning.

I stretched, the silk sheets cool against my bare skin.

A satisfied ache lingered from the night before, but the warmth beside me had vanished.

I blinked, finding Louis still here, shirtless, reclined against the headboard, his lazy grin meeting my curious stare.

“Morning,” he murmured, voice rough with sleep.

My lips curved, but my fingers were already sliding across the screen of my phone, drawn by the notification. A single message.

Unknown number.

You looked exquisite last night. But you would have enjoyed your night more if I broke into your apartment, slit his throat and fucked you instead.