Page 20 of The Syndicater (Dark Verse 6)

Chapter 8

Lyla, Gladestone

Lyla lay in bed,sated, sore, and still famished for him.

She was panting, her heart running a million miles a minute, the momentum making her languid and lethargic, but her heart still hungered, even though they had spent the last hour so vigorously it was a miracle the bed hadn't broken, and neither had her pussy.

Turning her head on the pillow, she looked at Dainn, seeing his muscular chest rise and fall rapidly as he caught his own breath, his eyes closed, and his head turned to the ceiling. They had spent the entire day in the suite, ordering room service, eating, showering, and just making love against every flat surface they could find. They had always come together explosively, but now there was desperation there, of watching each other and etching it all to memory, of spending every second they had together pressed into each other so their flesh could remember, their bones could recall, their blood could carry the moments through their bodies in the absence. Theystarted on the balcony, came inside to the couch, then the shower, the tub, the countertop, and finally the bed. If she hadn't been with him for as long as she had, she would've been amazed at his stamina. To be honest, she was amazed at her own. It was impressive that she'd somehow survived their fucking marathon, though her ability to move a muscle in the foreseeable future was debatable.

But knowing that she would be leaving tomorrow, that she had a new world and new people she knew nothing about and who knew nothing about who she was, and yet were a part of her past, made her want to drown herself in the pleasure of the moment and delay the inevitable as long as possible. And she knew he understood that, knowing her as well as he did. She just asked, and he delivered.

She extended her hand, running her fingers through his dark strands that were messed up after hours of his workout, her pale skin contrasting against his dark, a fitting visual for their insides too. But she wondered as she drifted her digits lazily through his hair about what was to come. She would meet her family, one she hadn't known about, and she would see her son, see how he had grown up into the boy he was. It was terrifying, but she couldn't deny it; she was thrilled not to make the choice. Had it been up to her, she didn't know if she would've been ready for years to meet them. Maybe see them from a distance to assuage her own curiosity, but her self-worth still didn't let her believe she would make any positive additions to their lives. In fact, her biggest fear was disrupting it. She didn't want that, not for a brother who had been looking for her for so long and a son she had sacrificed with such love.

"Stop overthinking." The words, low but precise, filled the room.

Her hand paused for a second before she continued petting him, marveling at the fact that he knew her thought patternsso well. But then, that was what he did. He studied, learned, and used patterns against people. Not her, she knew that. For some insane reason, she still didn't understand, she was the only exception to his entire personality, immune to his lies and manipulations, to his pretenses and deceit, to his power moves and his corruption. The only one under his protection and his care, the one he showed his true self to without any holds barred. She loved that about him, that he was real with her.

And who would've thought the man the whole underworld feared, the man with more blood on his burned hands than she would ever even know, the man who existed in the shadows, would like being petted post-coitus by a small woman with not a lot to offer? It was such a conundrum.

"Why me?" she uttered the question that had been inside her for six years. Why her? Why did he pick her of all the other girls in her exact position? She knew now that it wasn't because of her brother or his power, because Dainn had made his choice much before he traced her past and her birth identity. He had been coming to her, protecting her, long before he knew she was related to a powerful circle.

He turned his neck, his mismatched, hypnotic eyes coming to her, alert despite the exhaustion he had to be feeling, giving her the full extent of that focus that knocked her breath out of her lungs every time.

"You already know,flamma," he spoke in a low tone, his words direct. He didn't think of himself as a poetic man, but the words he gave her bloomed in her heart like poetry in a land of misery.

"Because I trusted you?" she implored, knowing he was addicted to her trust, something he had told her often.

He sighed, turning fully to face her and dragging her body closer, pressing his knee between her legs where she was already sore enough she knew she had to walk consciously tomorrow. But she liked that. She wanted to feel him inside her, leave withher flesh remembering the touch of his flesh, the kiss of his metal adornments deep within her. She wanted to savor it, her heart afraid, not knowing when she would be with him again like this.

He played with a strand of her hair, his gaze steady on her face. "Where is this coming from?"

She shrugged. She didn't know. She just wanted to stay there, in that moment, locked with him and away from the world, hiding in the suite high above the ground where nothing and no one could touch them. Because tomorrow would change things, and she didn't know what the fallout of that would be. She didn't want to believe that it would impact their relationship; she didn't think it would, but the part of her that had found a home with him, in him, was scared of losing it. She didn't want to be lost again, adrift out in a world full of people but alone. She felt seen with him, felt understood with him, and she didn't want to lose that.

And she knew she would, even if temporarily. He couldn't come with her.

She swallowed. "I'm scared." The words came out as a whisper, a soft confession between their faces, a safe secret she entrusted in the dark with him. As long as she was with him, her vulnerability was alright. The dark couldn't hurt her, and neither could the light. He owned both with different faces and different names, but the same man and the man was hers. For some reason, he was hers.

But he wasn't normal either. When another would have maybe gentled at her confession, he got a glint in his eyes, as if hunting the things that scared her were his favorite hobby. Maybe a part of him liked her scared, as long as she was with him.

"Scared of what?" he asked, his fingers stroking her cheek.

Lyla settled deeper into her pillow, turning her gaze lower and staring at his neck. He had a very attractive neck, muscular butnot bulky, with veins vining up a side and an Adam's apple that stayed steady in the face of everything. She couldn't remember him swallowing nervously as she tended to.

"Everything," she admitted.

"Eyes,flamma," he demanded. She turned her gaze up and locked eyes with him.

"Tell me what scares you."

A breath left her. "I don't know. The unknown. The change. I don't know what's going to happen. I want to go back, back where I can see the mountains and the sea, where I can cook. Back where Dr. Manson sees me, Bessie helps me pick books to read, and Roy teaches me about gardening. Back withyou.You and your extravagant helicopters and beautiful greenhouse and tight security where I feel safe. I want to gohomebut a part of me knows I have to see this through. And it all scares me."

"Flamma," Dainn spoke softly, his mismatched eyes staring deep into hers, his term of endearment for her always softening her inside. "It will always be yours. I will always be yours. No matter what happens, you can come home whenever you want. All of it is yours. You know this."

He must have seen the doubt in her look because he pressed a kiss to her nose. "I'm not going with you for a reason."

She knew. She understood. But her brain still didn't accept. "Tell me again," she urged him. She needed to understand why he would choose to leave her alone now after all his actions and promises.

He exhaled. "Because if I did, it would make it about me. About the Shadow Man. They would get distracted by that, and you deserve better. It's aboutyou.As much as I don't like it for selfish reasons, it's your past and possibly your future if you choose it that way."

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