Page 7 of Monsters Carve Thrones
He kissed my cheek before easing out of the bed. We deserved this.
Chapter 2
(TW: Somnophilia)
The change in air pressure had nothing on the electricity crackling between us. Rafe’s eyes hadn’t left me since the car, watching me like he was already planning which part of me to kiss first once the door sealed behind us. Our relationship had been spicy as hell since the very beginning. But even underneath all of that, I knew he genuinely loved me. I could tell in our quiet evenings together, making dinner or watching movies. I could feel it when he’d fall asleep with his head on my lap on the couch after a long day. He was… everything to me.
The jet was sleek and luxurious, all leather, dark wood, and understated wealth. We barely reached our seats before his hand found the small of my back, sliding lower with a possessiveness I knew far too well.
I had files to review, and Rafe, to his credit, gave me a moment to do that before disappearing for ten days. “I spoke toLaura,” I said, crossing my legs and pulling a thin folder from my bag. “She’s handling the West Coast client meetings while we’re gone, and Martin’s coordinating with cyber ops from Geneva.”
His eyes flicked down to my legs, then back up. “You trust her with that?”
“With my life.”
He tilted his head, admiring. “Of course you do. She’d kill for you.”
“And I’d kill for her,” I said, flipping through the pages, trying to keep my voice steady.
“You,” he murmured, his voice dipping into venom. “Are a wildfire in stilettos, my love.”
I didn’t blink. “Hope you can handle it,sweetie.”
The silence stretched between us. His gaze flicked back down to my legs. He leaned forward slightly in his chair, forearms resting on his knees, like a predator assessing his prey's ability to run.
“I can handle it,” he said with a smirk.
He stood. My heart skipped. He crossed the space between us with that dark, elegant grace only Rafe Vaughan could pull off–slow, intentional, his gaze never leaving mine. He was the most intense man I’d ever met. I closed the folder gently, my breath stuttering when he pulled me to my feet.
“I’m not afraid of whatever danger you have planned,” I said, full of attitude.
“I know,” he whispered. Then, with a grin,“It’s why I love you.”His mouth crashed onto mine–hands on my waist, my jaw, my throat. His tongue teased until I moaned, and his grin was pure sin.
“Do you remember when I finger-fucked you in my limo?” he murmured against my lips. “The way you dug your nails into my chest?”
I bit my lip to stifle a moan.
He shoved me back, pressing me against the wall of the cabin. My body arched into him instinctively, already aching, already soaked with anticipation. No one hadevermade me feel like this. Like pleasure was something violent and downright unholy. “God, I think about that all the time.” He kissed me again, his tongue sweeping in to dance with mine.
I was feral for him.My blood sang with it.
He smiled that wicked, infuriating smile. “You don’t question. You obey. When I want your body, you’re going to give it to me.”
And I did. Because he didn’t just own my body. He owned the dark, desperate need that lived under my skin, the wild part of me that didn’t want safety. I wanted the rough hands and brutal thrusts. I wanted to be fucked and claimed by this man who resembled Satan himself.
His mouth was on mine before I could even catch my breath, pinning me against the cabin wall like I’d been made to be handled this way. Rafe’s hand slipped beneath the hem of my blue floral dress, his touch entirely without patience. His lips trailed to my neck, sucking hard enough to bruise, and I arched into him with a sharp gasp.
“There you go, baby,” he whispered, voice dark and low. “You’re the most beautiful woman in the fucking world. And knowing you’re my wife?” he snorted. “Insane.”
“And I tamed The Dark Monster of New York,” I rasped, biting back another moan as he lifted me effortlessly onto the polished wood ledge by the window. The world below us was a blur, but he was crystal clear. Every inch of muscle and power locked on me.
His fingers trailed up my inner thigh. “Ugh, yes you did,” he groaned, sliding a finger beneath the lace.
I shivered, arching my hips forward, urging his fingers inside me.
He smirked, that wicked little curve of his mouth lighting something primal in my chest. “When I’m done with your pussy, I’m going to force you onto your knees.”
I couldn’t hold back my whimper at that.
