Page 9 of Monsters Wear Crowns (Crowned Monsters Duet #1)

Rafe Vaughan . The worst criminal in New York. The one man people spoke of in hushed voices. The kind of man who had no lines, no limits. A man who had blood on his hands–probably as recently as today.

And he was hunting me. My body wanted him anyway. His lips twitched like he knew, like he’d reached inside me and seen it. He’d dragged something out of me I hadn’t even realized was there.

And I let him .

I exhaled hard, my chest rising and falling as I blinked up at him. “You’re a fucking psycho.”

He didn’t argue. Instead, his hand trailed lower, slipping between my legs. A single finger hooked inside my underwear, teasing along my heat.

I gasped.

I should stop him .

I should–

His lips crashed into mine. The kiss wasn’t sweet.

It wasn’t careful. It felt like someone who’d been holding back for a long time.

His mouth moved over mine, rough and deliberate, his grip tightening like he’d never let me go.

His fingers dipped inside me, slow but deep, and he sighed against my mouth like he’d just tasted something forbidden.

Pleasure crackled through me, setting every nerve on fire. I responded instantly, my body betraying every rational thought. My fingers fisted in his shirt, clinging to him like he was the only thing keeping me tethered to this moment.

He was .

The rooftop, the city, the world–it all fell away. There was only this.

Only him .

His grip on my thigh tightened, pulling me against him and dragging me into the hard, solid heat of his body. My breath came out in a sharp, uneven moan. I tried to stifle it, to keep some of my dignity. But he felt it, heard it.

And he devoured it.

He was consuming me, tearing me apart, and putting me back together in the same breath. His fingers plunged deeper, and I gasped against his lips. My mind spun, my legs shook , my lips tingled from the way he kissed me– like he was making a fucking point .

Then, just as suddenly as he kissed me, he pulled back . His thumb brushed my cheek. His icy gaze searched mine, as if waiting for me to come to my senses, to pull away, to run.

I licked my lips, still tasting him, still burning . “Do you want me to run or something?”

His expression darkened. His fingers plunged deeper. “Do you want to?”

I should . But instead, I smirked. And I tipped my head back as I writhed against his hand. “Would you chase me?”

The hunger in his eyes ignited like I’d just said something that excited him. His fingers curled inside me, his lips grazing mine. “I would.”

Rafe’s arm was steady as it tightened around me. His body pressed flush against mine, heat rolling off him in waves, detaining me against the edge of oblivion. He smelled rich–expensive whiskey, cedar, and something darker beneath.

My pulse hammered, erratic, wild. I wanted to taste him again.

Like he could hear my thoughts, he lifted my chin, his fingers rough against my skin, and captured my lips. Stole my breath. My control. Whatever sliver of restraint I had left.

“Are you ready?” he murmured, his voice an intoxicating blend of promise and challenge.

Goosebumps broke out over my arms. Blinking, I met his gaze–two pools of cold, glacial blue that threatened to drown me. My lips parted, my body already betraying me, and then– fuck –his fingers pulled out and pushed back in.

A ragged breath tore from my throat, and I somehow managed a choked, breathless, “Yes.”

His smirk was pure sin, pressing against my lips before–

He pushed me down again.

The world tilted.

My heart lurched into my throat, my back hovering above three stories of empty space. The city lights blurred into a dizzying kaleidoscope of color and shadow, and my entire body went rigid. I could fall.

I could die.

Panic and euphoria slammed into me in equal measure. My hands snapped up, clutching at his shirt, at anything solid –but he was solid. He was the only thing keeping me from plunging into nothingness.

And his fingers–

God.

His fingers never stopped moving. A powerful gust of wind ripped through us, tearing at my hair and whipping it into a wild dance around my face. I was weightless, untethered, suspended between pleasure and pure terror.

He leaned over me, and his lips brushed against my cheek, his voice thick with amusement and hunger. “Look at you.”

I couldn’t move. Couldn’t breathe. I felt wrecked . My stomach twisted, and my body caught in a push and pull of emotions that were too sharp and intoxicating. Fear warred with desire, blending into something dark , something I had never touched before. Then–his fingers drove into me just right .

I moaned, loud and desperate, my entire body tensing beneath him. My stalker was touching me. He was watching me unravel.

A complete stranger.

Yet I had never felt so alive.

Rafe’s arm tightened behind my back, keeping me from slipping into the abyss–keeping me his.

I was safe.

I was scared.

“Let it out, baby,” he murmured. The sound of his voice, his playful request. That did it.

I shattered. Lightning crashed through my veins, raw and utterly consuming, and an overwhelming orgasm ripped through me like a tidal wave. The cry that tore from my lips was swallowed by the night, lost in the roar of the wind.

Rafe laughed. Laughed.

The sound rippled through the air, rough and satisfied, so fucking pleased with himself. His fingers coaxed me through it, dragging it out, prolonging the torture until I was a panting, shaking mess beneath him.

Then, finally , he pulled me upright again.

Sealed it with a kiss.

Fuck.

Fuck.

I gasped against his mouth, the fire beneath my skin still burning , my nerves still thrumming with adrenaline. He made me feel reckless . As though I stood on the brink of an infinite abyss–teetering on the precipice of the unknown.

And I never wanted to step back.

Rafe pulled back just enough to study me, his eyes probing. His thumb traced a gentle path over my lips. “You’re shaking again,” he observed, his voice a velvet murmur laced with a teasing edge.

I hadn’t realized it until now–how my body trembled against his. I forced a smirk. “You think I can’t handle you?”

He exhaled a quiet laugh, the sound dark and amused. “After that? Oh, Adela,” he murmured, dragging his fingers along my throat, making me shiver. “I know you can’t.”

A rush of heat shot through me. Anger and desire tangled too tightly to separate. I clenched my jaw, refusing to let him see just how much he affected me. “Men say that and then give the most piss-poor performance in the bedroom. So, you’re telling me you’re different?”

“I am.” His fingers toyed with the strap of my tank, the same one he had adjusted earlier. He smirked, his gaze sweeping down to where he was still standing between my thighs. “Obviously.”

My pulse hammered. My breath was uneven. And I hated that he could see it. Then, he stepped back. Just enough to let the night air rush between us, cooling the fire that was still licking at my skin.

He tilted his head, watching me. Studying me. Like he was waiting to see what I’d do. “Go home,” he murmured, voice like silk.

I stiffened. “Excuse me?”

He smirked, his gaze flicking over me again, lazy and knowing. “Before you start begging me to take you.” His body was tensed, like he was struggling to hold himself together.

A thrill shot through me, tangled with frustration. Take me?

I forced myself to stand tall, to mask the tremor in my limbs. “You’re an arrogant ass.”

His grin widened. “And you liked it. I felt that you liked it. You came for me.” He inclined his chin arrogantly. “You clenched around my fucking fingers.”

Damn him.

He started to walk past me, but at the last second, he leaned in close, his breath skimming my cheek. “Sweet dreams, Adela.”

Then, just like that–he was gone.

And I was left standing on the rooftop, heart pounding, body burning, my mind filled with nothing but him.

I stumbled down the sidewalk, heels clicking against the pavement, my body still humming from… Rafe.

His name pulsed in my mind like a curse, like a brand.

I should’ve never let him touch me. Never let him get inside my head.

But it was too late for that, wasn’t it?

I had never in my life met anyone like him.

He had a power that...drew me in. Which was definitely new, considering I held a lot of power myself.

I exhaled sharply, trying to clear the haze of alcohol, lust, and adrenaline burning through my veins.

Thankfully, my building wasn’t far. Just a few more steps, I’d be behind locked doors, alone with my thoughts–though that was hardly a comfort now.

I adjusted my ponytail, lifting my chin, willing my body to cool down and my mind to snap back into place.

The second I stepped into my penthouse, I kicked off my heels, tossed my purse onto the couch, and went straight to my bedroom. I barely took off my jewelry. Barely registered the way my hands trembled as I slid onto my mattress, my body still coiled too tight, still aching.

Damn him.

Damn his touch, his voice, the way he left me standing there on that rooftop, shaking, starving. I squeezed my eyes shut. I shouldn’t be thinking about him like this. But I fucking was.

Because if anyone could protect me, if anyone could destroy me, if anyone could drag me into the depths and make me love it–

It was Rafe.

So I allowed my hand to venture south and fantasize that he had taken me on that fucking roof.

And it was his breathy laugh that drove me into another frenzy of pleasure.

He was not just any man…he oozed danger and dominance.

He made me feel things that seemed to satisfy what no one else could.

Was I fucked up for that? Finding fear and ecstasy exhilarating?

Maybe. But I was annoyingly addicted, and wondered if I’d see him again.

***

RAFE

I closed the door behind me, my breath ragged, my pulse a relentless hammer in my skull.

Fuck.

I’d already done too much. Crossed a line I couldn’t uncross.

She knew who I was now. Maybe that would destroy this partnership before we even got into business.

But yet–I couldn’t regret it. Not when the scent of her still clung to my skin.

Not when the image of her, writhing, breathless, fucking perfect beneath my touch, was burned into my mind like a brand.

She had been so scared, but that fear had twisted into pleasure . She had fought it, her mind resisting what her body needed . But I saw it. I felt it. The way she trembled, the way she arched, first away, then against me, chasing what I gave her.

God, I wanted her. No, needed her.

The restraint it had taken not to claim her right then and there had nearly fucking broken me.

She was a powerful woman, untouchable to most. But I knew what she craved beneath all that control.

She wanted to be fucked– hard . Dominated.

To have her power stripped away, to be taken until there was nothing left of her but gasping breaths and desperate cries.

I shoved into my room, locking the door behind me, my body strung so tight I could barely think.

I could still feel the heat of her, the slick evidence of how badly she’d needed me, even if her mind wasn’t ready to admit it.

She clenched so perfectly around my fingers when she came, crying out into the night over a wild city.

I made her feel alive. And honestly? My heart had almost burst from my own chest, too.

I groaned, palming my cock, already rock fucking hard again.

I should leave her alone. Did I really need her this bad? This alliance could endanger her. But fuck, I'd protect her. I'd fucking rip out anyone's throat who even thought about doing something terrible to her.

I wouldn’t leave.

Not when I could still hear her little breathy whimpers echoing in my head, not when I could still feel her thighs shaking beneath my hands, not when I could still picture what it would be like to bury myself inside her, to stretch her out, to hear the way she would cry out when I filled her, wrecked her, owned her.

I fisted my cock, the pressure nowhere near enough, but fuck, it didn’t matter.

I stroked harder, faster, my teeth gritted, my free hand braced against the wall.

The memory of her pretty nails digging into my shoulders pushed me over the edge.

I came hard, so hard I had to slap a hand over my mouth to keep from groaning her name.

My release spilled over my fingers, my body wracked with shudders, and still, it wasn’t enough. Nothing ever would be.

Not until she was mine .