Boston Avant-Garde 5: Bellicoso (7 page)

Malachi approached his lover slowly, refusing to give in to his eagerness. “I can.”

The corner of Demon’s mouth tilted upward. “I can as well.”

The morning coolness seeped into Malachi’s bare feet, chilling him through the loose cotton pants he’d thrown on after his shower. He stopped beside the table, waiting to see what would come next. Demon was right. Despite the musty scent that always lingered within the stone walls, Malachi could smell Selena’s distinctive feminine perfume. The scent mingled with the heavier musk of Demon’s skin to create a blend that gave Malachi decadent thoughts of the three of them together.

“I need you naked, Malachi.” Demon’s soft baritone stroked like silk across Malachi’s senses. “Mount the table facedown.”

He shimmied the drawstring pants down his legs, and they pooled around his bare feet. Malachi stepped free and turned to the table. Demon had adjusted it into a strange position. It was lowered as far as it could go until Malachi could have straddled it with his feet planted firmly on the ground and his knees bent.

Anticipation curled through his gut as Malachi mounted the table. A panel had been removed from the center to allow his genitals to hang free.
Hang
didn’t really apply, however, since his cock had already started to harden the moment he’d climbed onto the table. He wondered idly if Selena had experienced the same mingling of anticipation and desire when she’d been there earlier.

A sense of rightness settled like a warm blanket over Malachi’s nerves when his belly made contact with the leather. No matter what Demon intended, Malachi trusted him to take them both to a point where pleasure and pain met fulfillment.

“Are you thinking about her?” Demon’s voice was a whisper, but Malachi was so focused he’d have heard that tone in a crowded room.

“Yes.”

“Don’t stop. Paint a detailed picture in your mind and hold on to it.” Demon’s calloused palm slid a familiar path over Malachi’s shoulder blades, tracing the pale scars left by Seraph’s beatings as they continued down his spine toward his ass. “Her scent, her softness, everything you can remember. Even her smile.”

Sassy, sexy, reckless, and wild—Selena invaded Malachi’s memory and staked a claim on his mind. He saw the perfect bow of her lips and the arrogant curve of her eyebrows as she worked so hard to pretend she didn’t care.

A hand gripped his swollen shaft beneath the table. He clenched his fists around the webbed handles as Selena had done only hours before. He knew it wasn’t her beneath the table. The powerfully skilled hand belonged to Demon, but in Malachi’s waking dream it was Selena who stroked him from balls to tip.

His cock was bathed in warmth and wetness as sleek and sexy as a woman’s willing pussy. A groan slipped out before he could bite it back.

“Don’t stifle your sounds of pleasure, Malachi,” Demon whispered. “She wants to hear you. Show her how much you want to be inside her.”

Malachi thrust against the table, his cock sliding slowly through Demon’s tight grip. Another stroke and the rounded tip of his penis pressed into something that was not a hand. It was tight and wet with suction that made his senses reel.

The rational portion of his brain knew it had to be a synthetic pussy of some kind. A toy kept for training purposes. The part of him lured into a beautiful dream at Demon’s urging was perfectly happy to pretend the embrace was really Selena’s hot little cunt wrapped around his dick.

Malachi couldn’t remember the last time he’d fucked a woman. His body reveled in the novel sensation. The way the tight sleeve clung and stretched around him, welcoming him in and then protesting his withdrawal. Here and now he could set aside his fears because it was all an illusion. Here he was safe. He began to thrust in earnest, a quick rhythm that had him spiraling toward release.

“No, Malachi. Don’t come just yet.” Demon’s hand clamped around his testicles to help him stave off the climax hovering out of his reach.

Demon released Malachi’s balls, and they hung hot and heavy against the apparatus clamped over his cock. The table rocked, the coolness of a leather restraint a shock to the warm skin of his lower back.

Malachi’s eyes snapped open as a second strap bit into his shoulders. It forced him down flat. Adrenaline surged through his system. The table shivered as he launched himself up, only to be held fast by the restraints. Darkness curled the edges of his vision, the sound of his blood pumping furiously through his veins a dull roar in his ears.

“Relax, Malachi.”

The timbre of his lover’s voice was a familiar sound in the madness. He clung to it like an anchor, reminding himself over and over again that Demon had spent ten years proving he was not Seraph.

DEMON KNEW HE was pushing the boundaries of their bond. He had never used restraints on Malachi. They were Seraph’s stock-in-trade. She had been especially fond of contorting Malachi’s big body into painful positions only to force him to hold them for hours. In all her years spent trying to break her favorite toy, she’d sought only one thing—him screaming a safe word, proving she’d outmatched him. It had never happened.

That wasn’t what Demon desired. He smoothed his hands across Malachi’s bulging shoulder muscles, pinned to the table beneath the bite of a thick strap. The leather wouldn’t cut into the flesh. It wasn’t designed to harm.

Arousal heightened Demon’s senses, making him utterly aware of the man who was struggling so valiantly with his fight-or-flight instinct. The sharpness of his breathing and the scent of his sweat tangled with Demon’s own. The goal was to achieve pleasure for them both.

Demon continued to stroke his lover, kneading the tension from Malachi’s back and haunches until relaxation stole over his large frame and his breathing returned to normal.

Demon visualized the scene he wanted to paint in his mind, forcing his own desire into submission as it rose like a tidal wave. He had only the vaguest memory of Malachi’s mysterious woman. How much more intense would this be if the siren herself were in this room with them?

“I’d enjoy seeing you restrained like this with your cock buried in her pussy, Malachi.” Heat suffused the satin skin beneath Demon’s palms, and he knew his lover had left panic behind for anticipation. “Would you like that?”

Malachi shuddered. “Yes.”

“Is your cock hard?” Demon didn’t have to ask. The tension in Malachi’s ass said he was having a hell of time keeping still with the synthetic pussy locked onto his shaft.

“Yes.” The muscles across his back rippled. “I want to fuck it. I want to fuck her.”

“Patience, Malachi.” The response was a relief. Demon had spent years teaching Malachi it was natural to have desires. Expressing needs didn’t deserve punishment. If Demon wanted an automaton, he’d fuck a blow-up doll. It was Malachi’s vibrant, sensual nature that made him the man Demon admired.

He reached for the flogger he’d laid within reach. He’d purposely set it outside Malachi’s sight. Now Demon curled his hand around the molded handle and gave his palm a few light tickles with the soft leather.

The sound made Malachi flinch. He gripped the edges of the table until it creaked as he trembled and tried to regain control. His shoulders bulged against the strap though he didn’t speak a word.

Demon caressed the sleek ass he had every intention of fucking. “You wanted me to use a whip on you earlier. Isn’t that right?”

There was the briefest hesitation. “Yes.”

“This is the flogger you told me you used on Selena.”

Malachi’s breath hitched again, but it was arousal and not fear. Demon could smell it like an aphrodisiac that sank deep into his veins. His own erection was clawing at the fly of his jeans with an intensity he’d never experienced before.

“Did you use it to hurt her, Malachi?”

“No.”

“Did you bring her pleasure?”

“Yes.” The word slipped out on a groan.

Demon let the flogger trail over his bound lover’s heated flesh. He followed the rise and fall of Malachi’s broad shoulders as they tapered to his waist and rose to form an ass so perfect it made Demon’s mouth water.

He clenched his hand harder around the handle to still the telltale tremors. “I’m going to do the same to you.”

Malachi flinched when the tails slapped sharply across his skin, but it wasn’t in pain. The movement caused him to thrust into the slick tube nestled around his penis. It stroked him again and again as Demon applied the flogger to the sensitive skin of his upper thighs.

A red flush tinted Malachi’s skin. Demon smoothed his hand over the marks and set the flogger aside. He continued to stroke his lover. He spread Malachi’s muscular cheeks to expose his anal entrance. The sharp inhale told him Malachi was more than ready.

Demon stripped out of his jeans, welcoming the chill air. His dick bounced against his belly, and he bit back a hiss. Control wasn’t a game to him. It was the essence of his being. Yet the memory of Selena teased him with her presence, sending him closer to the edge than he’d ever been.

It wasn’t a bad thing.

He straddled Malachi on the table. Caressing his lover, Demon dispensed a good amount of lube onto his uncircumcised cock. The frigid liquid did nothing to lower his internal temperature.

“I’m going to fuck you,” Demon murmured. “Every motion I make will send you deep into that pussy. This is what it would be like if the two of us added a woman to our play.”

He fit the head of his cock against Malachi’s tight ass. The feel of his sensitive foreskin tunneling past the thick ring of muscle in his lover’s anal passage was sheer heaven. Demon angled his hips and plunged deep inside the tight heat. Below him, he felt Malachi do the same.

Pleasure eroded rational thought, and Demon slipped the leash on his need. Closing his eyes, he savored Malachi’s intense enjoyment. Fucking this beautiful man was perfect every time. There was no need to be careful with Malachi. The big man took everything Demon gave and more.

The rush of a building orgasm clawed at Demon’s heightened senses. He embraced it, channeling the energy into the long strokes he leveled into Malachi’s ass.

Demon pressed his chest to Malachi’s back, their sweat mingling. “You’re going to ejaculate inside that pussy.”

“Sir?”

It was the closest thing to argument Malachi would ever give, and Demon knew why. “Not everything is a trap, you big, beautiful bastard. If you can’t trust that, then trust me. I’ll never steer you wrong.”

Malachi jerked beneath him, and Demon knew his lover was fighting a war inside his head. Demon ground against him, pushing the tip of his cock against his lover’s sweet spot. Malachi shuddered, unable to hold back.

“Let go, Malachi. I’ll catch you.”

Malachi’s ass clenched tight around Demon’s cock as his orgasm ripped through his body. Demon could sense the semen pouring from his lover into the soft embrace of the synthetic pussy.

The slice of Demon’s brain still coherent in the maelstrom of pleasure wondered how much more incredible it would be to experience a woman in the throes of climax, her legs wrapping about them both as she screamed her pleasure and soared.

The image sent Demon over the edge. He convulsed, his fingers digging into Malachi’s shoulders as he ejaculated a pulsing stream of cum into his lover’s ass. He strained for the full range of his release. Something unexpected held him back from his full completion as if they were missing a third party in their love play. The whisper of thought told him things would never again be the same.

Chapter Seven

Selena twisted sideways in an effort to get her shoulders past the stack of designer suitcases in the back corner of her closet. She distinctly remembered stuffing her dance bag somewhere in this vicinity when she’d abruptly stopped going to class. She hadn’t expected to ever need the thing again. It had been nearly two and half years since she’d even thought about it.

“Where the hell have you been?”

Selena didn’t bother backing out of the closet. Her older sister could damn well wait for a response. The question was rhetorical anyway. Finally, Selena felt her fingers brush a corner of the canvas tote. Elated without knowing why, she dragged it through a hole between two roller bags.

“Seriously, Selena, Mama called me two days ago to ask if I’d seen you in the last couple of weeks.” Desiree had on one of her bossy expressions, but Selena ignored her. “Weeks! You don’t bother to come home for weeks, and then you show up out of the blue without even saying a word? What is wrong with you?”

Selena barely spared her sister a glance. “I don’t know, but I’m sure you’re about to tell me.”

The bag was more familiar than anything else in Selena’s life. She’d carried it to and from rehearsals and practice sessions for years. Mom had bought the bag when Selena was only ten. By then she’d outgrown the pretty pink one she’d used every day since she’d starting dancing at age three.

Selena could still remember how grown-up and special she’d felt the first time she’d carried the black tote into the dressing room. All the older girls had one—the girls who danced in the company productions, the ones who showed “promise” and were “going places.” Selena had wanted so badly to be just like them.

That dream had sustained her throughout her existence as a spoiled society princess. It had provided discipline and structure in a life that offered nothing but endless pampering and indulgence. That kind of preferential treatment had made her a bug under everyone’s microscope. When she’d danced, her hard work counted for something. Until the moment her own mother had popped Selena’s aspirations like delicate soap bubbles.

“Earth to Selena, are you even listening to me?”

“Not really, but you’re welcome to continue talking at me.” Selena gazed up at her sister and gave her a cynical grin guaranteed to drive Desiree crazy.

Desiree’s designer blouse, jacket, and pencil skirt looked way too put together for an impromptu confrontation. Selena wondered what was really going on.

Her sister sighed and took a deep breath as if she was trying to calm down. “Look, what Jackson did was wrong. We all know that. But you can’t let it ruin your life like this. Can you just come downstairs and talk about it?”