Page 51 of Monsters Wear Crowns (Crowned Monsters Duet #1)

I settled on a specific chapter, licking my lips before glancing at him. He looked so damn smug. I inhaled, and then I began reading. “His mouth traced the curve of her throat, his hands pushing her dress up, rough and impatient. She arched into him, breathless, her fingers tangling in his hair–”

I stilled. Rafe had moved. Beneath the covers, he was crawling up the bed like a predator. My fingers tightened on the book. I inhaled sharply when he reached me, his warmth pressing into my legs. One hand curled into my silk shorts, dragging them down with an excruciating slowness.

His breath brushed my skin. “Keep reading, baby.”

I let out a shaky exhale, and I did. “He lifted her onto the desk, his fingers sliding under her–”

A sharp gasp left me when I felt his gentle, hot tongue slide up my clit. My hands shook around the book. He slipped a finger inside of me, and I couldn’t hold back the whimper.

Rafe’s lips and fingers did terrible, sinful things.

My voice wavered, the words tangling on my tongue. “She–she moaned, gripping the edge of the–” Another breathless sound escaped me.

He chuckled against my skin, low and dark. “Keep reading, love.”

I nodded, but fuck, I could barely get the words out.

“Keep reading, Adela.” Rafe’s voice was more commanding, yet amused at my unraveling.

I barely had control over my own breath, let alone the words in front of me, but I did as he asked, voice trembling. “His hands roamed her body, gripping her thighs, yanking her to the edge of–”

Oh, fuck.

I was burning.

What an experience this was–reading something I’d once only dared to whisper into the silence of my own room, now speaking those words aloud as he touched me, worshipped me.

It was intoxicating .

My back rested against the pillows, legs parted, the book trembling in my hands. My breath caught as his mouth found me again, and I nearly dropped the damn thing right then.

Rafe was beneath the blanket, the heat of his breath curling against my core before his tongue dipped inside my aching pussy.

He was slow at first, deliberate. Cruel , almost, with how gentle he could be when he wanted to torture me.

But then he growled low in his throat, something hungry and primal, and I felt it everywhere.

My head tipped back, a moan spilling out before I could stop it. His hands dug into my thighs, pinning me down like he owned this moment. Like he owned me.

I clutched the book tighter, fingers slipping along the pages, my grip failing as another wave of pleasure surged up my spine. His tongue circled my clit, then plunged inside me relentlessly. Messy. Perfect.

I gasped, legs shaking.

The words on the page blurred as heat bloomed through my chest. My thighs trembled around his head, and still, he didn’t stop. He devoured me like he hadn’t eaten in days, like I was a feast and he had all the time in the world.

But I didn’t. I was fraying. Fast .

With shaking hands, I threw off the blanket and looked down.

His back flexed as he moved, muscles coiled with tension.

His dark hair was a mess against my skin, his mouth slick and shining as he looked up at me.

A wicked grin tugged at his lips, feral and knowing.

One hand stayed firm on my thigh while the other slid away–just long enough for his knuckles to drag down the center of my belly, grazing sensitive skin, then trailing back up with maddening slowness.

“You taste like fucking heaven,” he rasped, voice rough and dripping with hunger.

“Do you have any idea how often I think about this pussy on my tongue? I crave it, crave you , every goddamn day.” His breath was hot against me, his mouth returning with reverence and ruin.

“Even while I’m putting a bullet in someone’s skull,” he growled, “I’m thinking about your taste.

The way you moan. The way you feel wrapped around my cock, shaking for me. ”

A broken, helpless sound tore from my throat. I tried–God, I tried –to lift the book again, to focus on the words. But my hands were trembling, my vision blurred with lust, and my body was far too wound up, too close to the edge, too desperate to pretend. I didn’t want to read. I wanted to come.

And he knew it.

His fingers tightened on me again, eyes locking with mine as his voice dropped low. “Find your favorite line.” His hot breath fanned over my skin as he licked back up my thigh, slow and cruel. “Read it to me.”

I whimpered, but I obeyed. Somehow. My fingers trembled as I flipped through dog-eared pages, lips barely forming the words.

My vision blurred with need. I found it.

The line I’d always loved–dark, raw, filthy.

And I read. “He pounded into her, watching her face while she took his cock. Her pussy was already drenched with her release, only adding to his pleasure. And with his next few thrusts, he pinned–pinned her to her desk and pumped her full of his cu–”

I didn’t make it to the end.

My body broke apart. The orgasm tore through me like lightning, sudden and brutal, making me cry out as my back arched. The book slipped from my fingers, falling against the duvet with a dull thud.

Rafe didn’t stop–not until I was trembling, spent, soaked and gasping for air.

Only then did he rise, his mouth kissing a trail up my body. My stomach. My ribs. My breasts. He bit lightly at my nipple, then soothed the sting with his tongue before dragging his lips higher, finally reaching my throat.

He hovered there, his breath mingling with mine, then kissed me. Deep. Possessive. A kiss that said he owned my pleasure. When he finally pulled back, I was dazed. Floating.

But I still managed to drag my nails down his chest, smirking through the haze. “Your turn.”

His eyes gleamed–hot, wild, and entirely unholy. “Oh?” he murmured, lips brushing mine. “You think you can handle that?”

I nodded, my fingers brushing the edge of the towel slung low on his hips. “You don’t have to read it out loud,” I whispered, my lips ghosting along his jaw. “Just read it.”

A dark, amused sound rumbled in his chest. “As you wish.”

We shifted, trading places like it was a dance we’d done a hundred times.

I slid my hands over his broad shoulders as he eased back against the pillows, muscles flexing beneath warm, damp skin.

He reached for the book where it had fallen, flipping through pages until he found a passage that caught his attention. And then, he read.

I watched him closely. The way his eyes darkened with each line. The faint tick of his jaw. The way his grip on the book tightened, knuckles pale against the spine. He was far too composed… until he wasn’t.

When I’d decided he’d had enough…

I leaned down and dragged my lips over the center of his chest, tasting his skin, the intoxicating scent of cedar and heat and him.

His breath hitched, and his abdomen tensed beneath my mouth.

I untucked the towel with slow, deliberate hands, letting it fall open and reveal his cock–already hard, thick, and pulsing with need.

A shiver of excitement rolled through me.

He looked like sin incarnate sprawled against my sheets. My tongue teased the tip, swirling in slow, lazy circles, savoring the taste of him. He groaned low in his throat, fingers sinking into my hair with a rough sort of reverence.

“God, baby,” he muttered, voice gravelly, thick with barely leashed restraint. “You really are a menace.”

I smiled against his skin, my lips curving around him as I took him deeper, slowly, deliberately. His breath stuttered, hips shifting under me in that subtle, uncontrollable way that told me just how close he already was.

There was something wild about it–something wicked and powerful. The rush of knowing I had a criminal’s cock down my throat. A man who’d killed without blinking. Who could break necks and run empires, and yet… he groaned for me. Shuddered for me.

There was power in pleasuring a monster and hearing him come undone.

“Do you like what you’re reading?” I asked, voice thick with amusement.

A soft, breathless laugh left him. “I see why you enjoy it… fuck .”

I took him deeper still, hollowing my cheeks and working him with slow, relentless pressure. He whimpered , and the sound lit me on fire.

“I have to admit…” His breath faltered, voice hoarse. “When I hacked your account and saw the filthy shit you were reading… I couldn’t stop myself. I jerked off to it that night. Imagined it was you. I came so hard, Adela. So fucking hard.”

A fresh wave of heat crashed through me. My lips tightened around him, and I worked him deeper, letting my throat massage every inch of him. He groaned, head falling back against the pillow.

“Jesus. I couldn’t wait to fuck you. To own you. When I followed you to Florida…” He cursed under his breath. “I nearly lo st control. I wanted to rip your clothes off, bend you over the damn balcony, and take you raw. I wanted to see the fear in your eyes as I stretched your tight pussy.”

I pulled back just enough to meet his eyes, a wicked smile on my lips. “You’re distracting yourself,” I teased. “Keep reading.”

He huffed a laugh, the sound nearly a growl. “Yes, my queen.”

I dug my fingers into his thighs at his words. And it didn’t take long before the book was slipping in his grasp, his head tipping back as his fingers clenched in my hair, hips rising. His breaths came fast and ragged, his chest heaving, sweat slick across his skin.

A harsh groan ripped from his throat as he spilled down mine, body trembling, hands clutching at me like I was the only thing tethering him to reality.

“You’re incredible,” he whispered, voice wrecked, reverent, utterly undone.

I winked, settling under the covers. “You started it.”