Page 113 of Monsters Wear Crowns
I didn’t answer.
He let out another low, amused chuckle. “Regretting that you stopped me?”
I shot him a glare, but he wasn’t even looking at me. His expression was relaxed, his fingers tapping lazily against the wheel. He was toying with me. And it was working. And annoyingly, he let me stew in it. It wasn’t until we pulled up to my building that he finally spoke again.
“Good night, beautiful,” he murmured as I opened the door. “Dream of me.”
I slammed it shut behind me.
Finally, at around 3:30a.m., I collapsed into bed. Exhaustion weighed me down, but my mind...it wouldn’t stop. I curled onto my side, burying my face in the pillow, trying to will the thoughts away.
But they came anyway.
Moreau.
The way my body responded to his proximity. Both disgust and arousal had bloomed inside me under his sinfully beautiful gaze. I squeezed my eyes shut.
But in the darkness, I saw it all. I fucking hated myself for it. For the ache lingering between my thighs. For the way my breath still came just a little too fast. For the way I wondered–
What would have happened if I hadn’t stopped him?
What if I had let him take me apart?
What if–
I turned onto my back, staring up at the ceiling, my chest rising and falling in shallow breaths. I was losing control again, my hand venturing beneath my pajama shorts. But now, I was safe inmy own bed. I closed my eyes, imagining Rafe’s perfect, muscular body and the sound of his moans. The orgasm came quick and wild, whipping through me with a beautiful kind of clarity.
I held back tonight. And I finished thinking of the man I loved.
Chapter 22
(TW: Mild Consensual non consent)
The steam curled around me as I stepped out of the bathroom, toweling off my damp hair. The hot shower had melted some of the tension from my muscles, but nothing ever truly rid me of it. Not when I lived in a house that wasn’t mine. Not when I was playing house with a monster who both ruined and worshipped me in equal measure. Two days had passed without so much as a word from Moreau,thank fuck.
When I returned the morning after visiting his place, I felt awful. I was a fool. A stupid, horrid fool. I didn’t want anyone but Rafe, but that hunger threw most of my logic out the goddamn window. I hated myself and hoped that Moreau wouldn’t mention it. I don’t know what would happen or how Rafe would react. I knew it wouldn’t be fucking good.
But at least Rafe seemed to take this relationship stuff seriously. He’d been actually a fantastic boyfriend. He cooked breakfast, drank wine with me by the fire, and woke me up in the middle of the night with his head between my legs.I was a lucky fucking woman.
I slid into a pair of soft pink pajama shorts, the silky fabric skimming the tops of my thighs, and pulled on a fitted tank. My bare feet padded over the cool floors as I crossed into the walk-in closet, intending to grab something warmer–
But the moment I stepped inside, a shadow moved behind me. I barely had time to register it before Rafe was there, blockingthe doorway. Within seconds, his arms trapped me against the shelves lined with neatly arranged rows of his clothes. His body was a wall of heat at my back, a presence that stole the air from my lungs.
“Going somewhere, lovely?” His voice was low, edged with amusement.
I exhaled slowly, my pulse spiking. “To grab a sweater.”
His lips brushed my ear. “You won’t need it.”
A shiver raced down my spine, but I kept my stance firm. “You like bossing me around, don’t you?”
He chuckled, the sound dark and sensual. “You love being bossed around, baby.” His fingers skimmed the hem of my shorts, tracing featherlight touches over my exposed skin. My breath caught when he dipped his head, kissing just beneath my ear and then lower down the side of my neck.
I swallowed, my hands curling into fists. “We just did this.” And we did. I had swallowed his come after he finger-fucked me into oblivion.
“We’ll do it again,” he murmured against my skin, his voice thick with possession. “And again.”
I turned my head just enough to meet his gaze, to see the hunger there–the hunger that never seemed to abate when it came to me. His pupils were blown wide, his expression full of wicked intent.How was I ever tempted by another man? When this one was obsessed with me?
