Page 26 of Property of Mako (Kings of Anarchy MC: Louisiana #1)

Revelations

Lyra

Lily finally fell asleep in her bed, her breathing shallow but steady, her face relaxed for the first time since I’d gotten her back.

I sat beside her for a long while, brushing her hair back from her face, memorizing every feature like I’d never seen her before.

She was thinner, paler, but she was here. Alive.

When I finally slipped from the room, I found Calix leaning against the hallway wall. His arms were crossed over his chest, his eyes shadowed, like he’d been waiting for me.

“How is she?” he asked, voice low.

“Exhausted. But she’ll be okay,” I whispered.

For a moment, we just stood there. Relief had loosened some of the tightness in my chest, but beneath it was a coil of unease. I couldn’t shake what Lily had said about the other girls. About how many were still trapped.

I turned to him, arms wrapping around myself. “You’re not just going to leave the rest of them, are you?”

His eyes narrowed slightly, the sharp planes of his face unreadable. “Lyra?—”

“Don’t,” I cut in, my voice sharper than I meant. “Don’t tell me to be grateful I got my sister back and let it go. I heard her. I saw her face. There are other girls—scared, alone, just like Lily was. You can’t leave them there.”

His jaw flexed, a muscle ticking. “We’re working on it.”

“That’s not an answer.”

“It’s the only one you’re getting,” he said, his tone clipped. But then he blew out a breath and stepped closer, lowering his voice. “Listen to me. We will get them. But now that your sister’s back, you need to let me handle this. You’ve done enough.”

Something in me bristled at the finality in his tone. Done enough? Did he think I could just turn off the need to fight? To protect?

But then he reached out, his hand curling around the back of my neck, his thumb brushing against my skin in a way that melted some of my anger. His gaze softened just enough to unravel me.

“You could’ve died in that bread factory,” he said roughly. “Or tonight, or any of the times you were with me. You think I’m gonna risk that again? Not a chance, sweetheart.”

My heart thudded at the rough affection his unexpected endearment carried. That night, the tension between us snapped.

He kissed me slowly at first, his mouth coaxing, careful, until I rose on my toes and pulled him deeper. His hands slid into my hair, then down my back, and soon I was pressed against the wall, drowning in the taste of him.

Breathing heavily, we slowly broke apart. He took my hand in his and led me back to his room.

By the time we made it to the bed, my thoughts of arguments and protests had blurred into heat. His body was heavy and sure against mine, his touch reverent, almost worshipful. Every stroke, every kiss, every whispered word was a promise he wouldn’t say out loud.

When his sharp incisors scraped lightly along my neck, I was powerless at the way my head tipped to allow him better access. He groaned at the movement.

The need for him to bite me was nearly overwhelming. It took everything in me not to beg him.

“Lyra…” he warned, “you don’t understand what will happen if I keep getting little tastes of you.”

“What if I don’t care?” I softly murmured as I stared into his mesmerizing gray-blue eyes.

“Baby, you should,” was his reply before he pushed himself down and spread my thighs. He held my gaze as he ran his tongue through the proof of my arousal. My cheeks burned, but he moaned in obvious pleasure as he licked and sucked on my pussy and my clit.

Once, I felt one fang nick me, and he let out what could only be described as a needy sigh. Using only his lips, he suckled the spot briefly until he licked over it and left me whimpering as he moved up and over my body.

Again, he stared into my eyes as he entered my waiting sheath.

“Fuck, you feel so goddamn good,” he muttered. “You make me feel like a man who has never been with a woman.”

Slowly, he withdrew, then slid deep inside until my breath caught and I dug my nails into his shoulders. He hit something inside me that literally made my lips tingle and dopamine rush through my veins.

It wasn’t frantic this time. It wasn’t escape. It was slow, deliberate, like he wanted to memorize me just as I wanted to memorize him.

He dropped to one elbow, using the other arm to scoop up my leg and lift it. That move allowed him to go deeper, and I gasped as my eyes rolled. He had me panting as I pushed my head into the pillow and arched my tits into his chest.

“Did I hurt you?” he asked in a strained voice.

“Only in the best possible way,” I honestly replied.

“Fuck, baby,” he cursed before he drove inside slowly but deeply. I’d never had sex like that in my life. It was unreal. It was magical.

When it was over, I curled against his chest, listening to the steady thrum of his heartbeat under my cheek. With each thump, my eyelids grew heavier.

His fingers traced idle patterns along my spine. “Lyra…”

“Mmm?” I murmured, already half-asleep.

He hesitated long enough that I opened my eyes and tilted my head up. His gaze caught mine, raw and unguarded in the dim light.

“I’m not going to be able to let you go when this is over,” he admitted, voice rough. “I know I should. I know it would be the right thing to do for you, but….”

My breath caught. The walls I’d built around my heart threatened to crumble under the weight of those words.

I didn’t answer. I didn’t know how.

Instead, I pressed my lips softly against his chest, holding him tighter, praying that somehow we’d both make it through what was coming.

Because I now couldn’t imagine my life without him in it.