Page 15 of Monsters Wear Crowns
“I already know I do,” he said, so casually it made my pulse quicken. “But I’d like to hear you say it.”
I rolled my eyes but let the question linger in my mind. What kind of mendidI like? I’d tried them all. The charming ones, the arrogant ones, the ones who whispered all the right things just to fall apart in the end. And yet, none of them had ever really…
I hesitated.
His eyes narrowed slightly, catching the momentary slip. “What?”
“Nothing.” I took a sip of my drink, shaking my head. “It’s irrelevant.”
He leaned in, his voice dipping lower. “Something tells me it’sveryrelevant.”
God, he was fuckingdangerous.
I exhaled sharply, resisting the pull of his persistence. “Fine. If you must know–” I glanced toward the skyline. “None of them have ever satisfied me.”
Silence.
When I looked back, he was watching me, head tilted, his smirk deepening like I had just handed him a weapon with my bare hands. I didn’t like the way my body reacted to that smile.
Rafe leaned closer, resting his elbow on his knee. “And what if I told you that was because none of them were me?”
His confidence made my skin suddenly feel hot. “You’re bold.”
He dipped his chin, predatory. His fingers skimmed the bare skin of my knee–a whisper of a touch, so light I almost questioned if it had happened at all.
I didn’t move, didn’t flinch. Just lifted my glass to my lips and met his stare, stubborn and steady.
His gaze darkened, flickering with approval. Then, he leaned in.
My heart pounded.I was alone up here with him.No onewatching. No one listening.
I told myself it was curiosity. That it was because I could handle him. Even as my mind spun, screaming at me that Ididn’t know what I was playing with.
His fingers flexed against my knee. “So...” His voice was silk wrapped around a blade. “What would make a man better than the ones you’ve been with?”
I exhaled sharply, tilting my head. If he wanted an answer, fine.
I looked him dead in the eye. “To make me feel alive.”
His smirk widened.
And before I could react, he snatched me by the waist. A stunned gasp left my lips as I grabbed onto his strong, muscular shoulders. My glass slipped from my fingers, forgotten as he lifted me effortlessly.
And then, I was weightless. When he set me down, the realization hit like a bolt of ice.
The edge of the terrace.
I was sitting on the fuckingedge.
My stomach clenched, the world below stretching into dizzying nothingness. My breath quickened, and I met his gaze, my body suddenly too aware of his–of the sheer, deliberate control in his grip.
His smirk never faltered. “Trust me,” he murmured.
Something thick lodged in my throat. My pulse hammered against my ribs as if it was going to break through it. But I swallowed hard and nodded.
His hands moved. One slid to my outer thigh. The other pressed flat against my chest.
And then–
