Page 133 of Monsters Carve Thrones
I shivered, barely able to breathe. His fingers curled and stroked until my hand slapped the railing for balance. My head tipped back. The stars blurred. His other hand gripped my thigh, spreading me wider as he finger-fucked me. My cries caught in my throat, strangled and absolutely desperate.
“Stay quiet, baby,” he whispered into my ear. “They may not be able to see us, but they can definitely hear your desperation.”
That made it worse. That made it better.
When I came, I bit my knuckle to stifle the sound. My body trembled. My legs quaked.
“That’s my sweet girl,” he murmured, his teeth scraping up my neck. “There you go, little doe.”
He turned me around, bending me over the railing, hands firm on my hips. The danger of the height only added to the fire inside me. I whimpered when I felt him against me, hard and thick. He pushed inside slowly, inch by inch, and my body stretched to take him. I gripped the railing with white knuckles,heat flooding through me. He was so deep, so full, so much. His hips rolled, dragging pleasure through me in long, torturous strokes. My legs shook with every thrust, and he didn’t stop, didn’t ease up. The night swallowed my cries as he fucked me under the open sky, each thrust deeper than the last.
His mouth pressed to my ear. “No one gets to touch you but me,” he growled. “You’remine, Adela. Forever.”
I whimpered his name, and he gripped my hair, tugging my head back just enough to kiss me again.
“The one woman who made me fall in love when I thought such a thing wasn’t possible.” He grunted, entirely lost in me.
My eyes rolled back, pleasure exploding through me. My husband fucked me until my legs were useless and my body was shaking, until I came again, tighter around him.
He growled and drove in deeper, his pace feral now. When he finally let go, he came hard, his hand over my mouth as he spilled inside me. His breath was hot against my skin, his chest heaving, his grip on me firm and possessive.
We stayed like that for a moment, bodies locked together, the city humming somewhere far below. Then he pulled me close and kissed me sweetly.
“In a matter of days,” he said again, softer now. “We torch them all.”
I leaned into him, dazed and boneless. We slipped back into the hotel, quiet and flushed. No one looked up. No one asked. Rafe brushed a kiss to my temple before we went to clean up. And later, in bed, he curled around me protectively, and I slept without fear.
***
Nico’s tattooed fingers danced across the keyboard, the glow of the screen casting sharp shadows across his jaw. I sat beside him, knees pulled to my chest, watching message after message roll in.
Confirmed. I’ll be there.
Tell Varga I wouldn’t miss it.
Private location works for us. Looking forward to the meeting.
Every single one of them.
“They’re all coming,” he muttered, dark brows drawn together in satisfaction. “Stupid fucking bastards. Every last one of them.” His voice carried no joy.
I exhaled slowly. “This is really happening.”
He paused, turning slightly to face me. His short hair had started to grow in a little, longer at the top now, slightly tousled like Rafe’s. He looked older than usual tonight. Sharper. Like someone who had seen too much, too fast.
“I still hear it sometimes,” he said suddenly, voice low. “That video. Of you crying when Waylon had you. I know it was just a trap to bait Rafe, but fuck, Adela…”
My heart clenched. The memory twisted like glass inside me.
Nico reached out without hesitation, wrapping one strong arm around me and pulling me tight to his side. His warmth was grounding and steady. Brotherly. He smelled like citrus, gunpowder, and something faintly sweet. Probably Laura’s perfume.
“That was the worst thing I’ve ever heard,” he said into my hair. “And I’ve heard some dark shit. But that? That broke something in me. In all of us.”
I didn’t speak. I couldn’t.
He held me there for a long moment, then finally leaned back, his eyes softer now. “I can’t wait to get home. Work on forgetting all of this. Help you forget, too.”
I nodded. “Me, too.”
