Page 109 of Monsters Wear Crowns
Moreau smirked. He reached out, his fingers brushing the edge of my silk camisole before I jerked back into the door behind me. His laugh was quiet, pleased. “You have a little mouth on you,” he murmured, voice laced with amusement. “Such a prize.”
I met his gaze, my stomach twisting with something cold. Because in that moment, I realized the truth. I was caught between two monsters–both of whom wantedeverything.
And I was standing in the crossfire.
Moreau moved closer, and for some stupid fucking reason, I let him.
I told myself it was because I was calculating my next move. After all, I needed to know what game he was playing. But the truth was far more dangerous.
Iwantedto feel his heat. I wanted to know if it burned hotter than Rafe’s.Why? Why did I want to know?No answer was available to grasp.
The tension between us vibrated like a plucked guitar string. He reached out with a slowness that seemed to be testing my patience and my restraint. His fingers brushed against the thin strap of my camisole. My breath stopped, but I didn’t move.
His light brown eyes burned, locked onto me with a quiet hunger that Ishouldhave ignored. He was a predator in a perfectly tailored suit, and I...Ilikedbeing his prey.Adela, god fucking damn you.
“You don’t scare easily, do you?” he murmured, his voice smooth as sin.
I lifted my chin. “Not of men who think they can tame me.”
He chuckled, the sound dark and full of amusement. “Oh, I have no intention of taming you. I prefer a wild woman.”
I inhaled sharply as he closed the last of the distancebetween us. The heat of him pressed against my body, not quite touching, but sodamnclose. Close enough that his breath fanned against my lips, that the scent of his cologne wrapped around me, deep and woody with a hint of something sharp that reminded me of Rafe.
A terrible thought slid through my mind, uninvited.
What was this man capable of?
A wave of heat rolled through me, settling low in my stomach. I bit my lip to force the thought away, but Moreau caught the movement. His eyes darkened, his gaze dropping to my mouth, devouring me like he was considering taking what he wanted.
My hand tightened on the gun at my side. He saw it. He knew.
And yet–
He didn’t flinch.
Didn’t falter.
His lips tilted in a smirk, his confidenceastounding. “Use it,” he whispered, his voice like smoke curling around my thoughts.
Ishouldhave. I should have pressed the barrel against his chest and forced him to step back.
But I didn’t. Not when his breath fanned over my lips or his fingers danced along my hip, featherlight but full of intent. Not when that cursedhungerstirred–the hunger no ordinary man could satisfy. None other thanRafe.
And for one reckless second, Iwondered.
Could Moreau?
A shudder rolled through me, my body betraying me, heating under his touch. He grinned like hefeltit, like he knew precisely what war raged inside my head.
“You feel it, don’t you?” he murmured, his fingers sliding up my ribs, just barely beneath the silk of my top. “The thrill of being pursued. Of having two wolves closing in on you.”
A sharp exhale left my lips because he wasright.Icravedit. I craved this war, this fire, this feeling of being hunted, of beingwantedby the most dangerous men in the city.What the fuck waswrong with me?
I clenched my jaw, willing myself to break free of the pull.
Moreau’s smirk deepened, his thumb brushing against my ribs in a slow, teasing stroke. “You’re tempted,” he said, tilting his head. “I can see it in your eyes.”
Iwas.
