Page 68 of Monsters Wear Crowns (Crowned Monsters Duet #1)

One of his hands fisted into my hair, tilting my head back to give him better access to my throat. He kissed his way down the column of my neck, teeth grazing the delicate skin there, and a shudder wracked through me.

“You can’t keep doing this,” I whispered, hands shoving him away even as I clung to him. I was just a fucking contradiction at this point. “You can’t just–”

He cut me off with his mouth, swallowing whatever protest I might have had.

And I let him. Because this wasn’t about logic anymore.

It never had been. I gasped as he easily lifted me.

My legs wrapped around his waist on instinct, my arms around his shoulders, holding onto him like I might drown if I let go. Honestly…I was already drowning.

He carried me toward the balcony so effortlessly that it was like carrying me was absolutely nothing. The glass doors were still open, letting in the heavy heat of the night, the sound of the city humming far below.

The couch sat beneath the open sky, its cushions soft as he laid me down, his body following, pressing me into the seat.

Above us, the night sky was impossibly vast, endless, dark, and speckled with stars.

From this height, it felt like I could reach up and touch them–like if I just stretched my fingers far enough, I might steal one for myself.

But Rafe was already stealing something from me. Every breath. Every thought. Every last piece of control. His lips trailed down my throat, his teeth grazing my skin, and I shuddered. “I love you,” he murmured between kisses, his voice raw and desperate. “I love you so fucking much, Adela.”

My heart twisted, a painful ache swelling inside me, but I still said it back. Because it was the truth. “I love you, too.”

His movements faltered, just for a second. Like those words had struck something deep inside him.

I swallowed hard, my fingers threading into his hair, clinging to him.

But the weight of reality pressed down on me just as heavily as his body.

“What about your empire?” I whispered, the words catching between us.

“What about everything you’ve built? I’m caught between you and him, and you’re at risk of losing it all. I’m a distraction for you.”

Rafe stilled. Then, slowly, he lifted his head, his dark eyes burning into mine. “My empire or you?” he repeated, a rough, humorless laugh escaping him. “I would crown you at the top and bow at your fucking feet.”

A sharp gasp left me. He didn’t give me time to respond.

His mouth was back on mine, kissing me with bruising, fevered intensity.

And then he devoured me. Within moments, he ripped off my bloody clothing as well as his own.

My mind reeled between the trauma I had just experienced, the adrenaline coming down, and now, the arousal bursting into a full flame inside me.

I had never felt so alive.

And when he buried his cock inside me, I cried out into the night sky. “It will always be you.” Thrust . “No matter what.” Thrust . “You’re mine , and I’m–” Thrust . “Yours.”

My eyes rolled back at his rough, breathy words. Cedar filled my senses, overpowering the coppery tang of blood that existed there before. I wrapped my legs around his waist while he ground into me, kissing me so passionately that I became lightheaded.

Rafe was terrifying. He was dangerous. He was unhinged.

But he...he loved me. And as scared as I was to become collateral like my mother, I also felt the risk was worth it.

I had been depressed for a while. A drone that just went through the daily tasks of work, drinks with Lauren, and the occasional hookup that still left me feeling empty.

But Rafe made me feel...whole.

He continued to ravish me for what seemed like forever, and when an orgasm tore through both of us at the same time, my eyes were on the stars above us.

***

RAFE

The city blurred past me in streaks of gold and shadow, but I barely saw it. My hand strangled the steering wheel, knuckles aching from the grip, but I didn’t ease up. I needed something to hold on to, something to anchor me while the fucking chaos inside me roared.

I should’ve stayed .

God, I should’ve stayed. She was barefoot on that balcony, glowing in the city lights, slick with me, and looking like every goddamn dream I’d never thought I deserved. I’d left her there because if I didn’t, I would’ve fucked her again, harder, until she forgot how to stand.

But even driving away from her didn’t stop the hunger. I still felt her. I still tasted her.

Adela fucking Sinclair.

She didn’t just crawl under my skin. She ripped it open and carved her name into every inch of me. I was addicted to her. Helpless against her. And I didn’t give a shit. Because she was made for me.

And she proved it when she painted the inside of that limo with the blood of those men. They didn’t know. They had no idea who they were dealing with. But I did.

And I still almost lost her.

That thought? That image? Her body limp in the back of that car, violated and torn apart while I was too fucking late to stop it? It made me want to burn the entire world to ash.

But she wasn't helpless. She was a goddamn queen, sitting atop a throne of corpses, and all I wanted to do was kneel.

I laughed, running a hand through my hair. Fuck, she was a bad bitch. My bad bitch.

Even after draining myself inside her, I was already hard again just thinking about her. The way she gasped, the way her back arched when I told her to scream for me. I could still feel the pulse of her pussy around me, still hear the soft, broken way she said my name like it meant salvation.

It wasn’t enough.

I wanted the whole world to know she was mine. That the Dark Monster of New York had found his queen. Power used to be everything to me. I built an empire from the gutter up, brick by blood-soaked brick. I ruled this filthy city with fear and fire. But she …

She made it all feel like background noise. Because she was everything.

She was the sharp edge of the knife I’d always been afraid to fall on. She was fire, rage, lust, and fucking divinity. And I’d stand beside her. Not in front of her, not behind her– beside her . As her equal. As her king.

I pulled into the Orchard House, but I didn’t move to get out. I just sat there, panting like a fucking animal, heart pounding, cock throbbing, her taste still on my tongue.

If this was what love felt like, I got it now.

I got why people died for it. Why they’d take bullets. Why they’d burn down empires. Because I would. For her? I’d do worse , and I’d never let her go. Not even if it killed me.

I paced just beyond the porch, boots crunching over gravel and dew-slick grass. The Orchard House stood behind me, smelling like wood smoke and earth. Moonlight spilled over the trees, silvering the apple blossoms, casting long shadows that moved when I did.

But my body wasn’t calm. My shoulders were tight, jaw clenched, fists aching from how often I’d curled them tonight. I could still feel the ghost of her breath on my neck. The echo of her moans in my ears. My blood was too hot, too full. I should’ve been satisfied.

But of course I wasn’t.

There was something alive inside me again, something feral and territorial and dangerously close to the surface. I needed to leash it for her. Because if she was going to stay and feel safe, I couldn’t let the monster inside me breathe too loudly. I needed to soften. But fuck , it was hard.

The thought of anyone laying a hand on her, touching what belonged to me, sent rage curling down my spine like barbed wire. I wanted to rip flesh. Break bone. Make a goddamn display of every man stupid enough to look at her the wrong way .

And the limo–

Christ .

I tasted blood. Bit my tongue, hard. My nails dug crescents into my palms as I forced myself to breathe through it. She was alive. She was safe. She was stronger than all of them put together.

Still, I fantasized.

I imagined dragging Moreau's men back from the dead just to kill them all over again. Slower. More creatively. I’d carve into their chests. Peel them open and show the world what happens when you threaten what’s mine.

Because she was.

She was mine .

Not in some delicate, poetic way. Not in a “we found each other” kind of way. No . This was carnal. Brutal. Written in blood and sealed in sex and violence. I loved her, and I would slaughter for her. There was no leash strong enough to stop that kind of devotion.

I ran a hand through my hair, dragging in cold air like it could cool the fire inside me.

It didn’t. Not even close. If anyone ever touched her again, I’d make them vanish from the fucking earth.

She was my queen. And I was the monster who guarded the gates.

They’d have to go through me . And they wouldn’t fucking survive it.