He tangled one hand in the mess of her long dark hair and pulled her face forward so that his lips descended on her still open panting mouth and licked his way hotly into the wet cavern. Holly gave a few more light gasps against his mouth as she caught her breath, her hands coming up to rest on his sweat soaked shoulders as she straddled him once more. This time was merely for post-coital comfort as she drowsily pulled back slightly from him and gazed into his eyes, a filmy contented haze flooding the depths of hers, darkened to almost midnight, pupils blown helplessly from the strength of their passion. The tenderness he felt in his chest for this wisp of a girl overwhelmed him and he gathered her closer in his arms, lust forgotten even as his flaccid cock bobbed between her wet thighs as he situated them down on the bedding. Monroe pulled the covers over their rapidly cooling bodies even as he mentally vowed to himself that nothing and no one would get past him to harm her ever again. They must have dozed for some time as suddenly from below the wooden floorboards, Monroe could hear the sound of heavy booted footsteps, two sets that he was most definitely sure did not belong to his favorite Grimm.
His guess was confirmed when a quick sniff revealed the scent that matched the blood found on the tree during his and Nick's daytime search of the crime scene. There were hunters down there, human hunters, and he could guess all too easily who they were after. That guess too was confirmed when he heard the voices angrily planning under their breath what they were gonna do to the person responsible for their loved one's death. These despicable excuses for human beings were after his precious wolf girl and he was going to have to take care of them before they could get near her. Monroe carefully eased the now softly sleeping form of his new lover onto her bed and slowly began to re-dress, moving quietly as not to wake her. When he was dressed save for his heavy boots, he began to descend the trap door that lead into their dwelling, using the limbs in the trees like a ladder, going down the same way he came up.
Monroe dropped silently to the forest floor about half a foot before the ground and crouched down slightly, ears cocked upward to hear where they were a few meters away from the tree, on the other side. He slowly crept around and eased the penknife he'd slipped back into his pocket before leaving the treehouse from its resting place, grasped loosely in his hand at the side of his waist, razor edge toward the ground. The hunters must've been smarter than he gave them credit for, because they turned around and leveled their guns at him.