Boston Avant-Garde 5: Bellicoso (25 page)

Yet something stronger stopped him from doing just that. He let his hands drop before turning around and bending over the side of the bed. Adrenaline spiked hard in his blood, and Demon fought to remain in the submissive pose.

Malachi’s hand smoothed over Demon’s ass. Cupping his cheeks, Malachi squeezed the muscular globes until Demon grunted with both pleasure and pain. His heart began to pound, and he closed his eyes.

He heard his lover dispense a generous portion of lubricant seconds before he felt Malachi’s fingers brush over his tightly puckered asshole. It was exquisite torment. The sensitive nerves sang with elation while his instincts roared in protest. He cried out, uncertain what emotion spawned the guttural sounds.

“Relax,” Malachi whispered. “I love you. I’d rather stop than cause you pain.”

The words accompanied the penetration of Malachi’s thick finger into Demon’s anal passage. Trapped beneath him, Demon’s cock shuddered as a splash of precum erupted from the tip.

Demon inhaled a ragged breath. “Fuck me, lover. I want your cock in my ass.”

The broad head of Malachi’s penis probed Demon’s asshole. It tunneled inside him in one long, slow thrust. Malachi’s grunt of pleasure sent thrills of excitement over Demon’s entire body. When Malachi withdrew only to slam back inside, Demon moaned. The rough brocade duvet rubbed his cock with every thrust. He’d be lucky to hang on to his own load while Malachi filled him with cum.

Each stroke wiped away more and more of the past. Malachi gained momentum, his fingers digging into Demon’s hips as he rutted like a beast. Demon reveled in the animalistic nature of their coupling. He arched his back and met his lover thrust for thrust. His ass stung and smarted; it grasped at the thick cock sliding in and out, wanting more.

Malachi’s right hand slipped over Demon’s hip and reached beneath him to grasp his cock. Fisting him tightly, Malachi began to pump Demon’s cock in time with the thrusts into his ass. Demon lost his sense of self as the intensity washed over him like warm rain. It was like being reborn, birthed into a new creature that lived only for this.

“If only she were here,” Malachi whispered into Demon’s ear. “Her long legs wrapped around your waist and your cock buried inside her hot pussy.”

An image of Selena’s sweet body filled Demon’s mind. Not just a body, but a soul, a person that pulled them both out of their shells with nothing more than her smile.

“Come with me, Demon,” Malachi gasped.

Demon convulsed, and his balls clenched tightly against his body. His seed spilled onto the duvet beneath him. Behind him, Malachi thrust hard and filled Demon’s tight anal passage with cum. The warm, thick liquid entering his body made Demon shudder in one last climactic undulation. He collapsed to the bed, Malachi’s warm bulk sinking down on top of him.

“I can’t believe you let me do that.” Malachi sounded breathless.

“I’ve told you time and again. I would do anything for you, Malachi. Anything.”

“Yeah, but I can’t believe I came inside you.”

Demon’s heart clenched at the naked shock in Malachi’s tone. “It’s time to put the past to rest. All of it.”

* * * *

The display on Malachi’s phone said it was 2:30 a.m. For the first time ever, he’d let his employees handle the club. Neither he nor Demon had left the suite since making love. A dim light in the living room cast a minimal glow into the bedroom. It was quiet and peaceful, like a moment outside of time.

That wasn’t usually a phrase Malachi thought of when it came to fucking. Considering the animal intensity of the session they’d shared earlier, it still sounded too soft. Yet the sheer give-and-take between them had transcended physical fulfillment. Malachi could feel it still in the way Demon’s lean body was pressed against his beneath the covers.

Demon rolled to his side and gazed at Malachi in the near darkness. “Lars Aasen will be here in the morning to arrest Seraph.”

Malachi had suspected something of the sort, but knowing Selena’s cousin was somehow involved created as many questions as it answered. “What agency is he with?”

“Interpol.”

“Does Selena know?” Malachi thought of her utter confusion at her cousin’s apparent knowledge of Triptych.

“Not unless he told her once she got home.” Demon reached over and brushed his fingers down Malachi’s cheek. “I never told you how I ended up with Seraph.”

Malachi had guessed most of it, and somehow the rest seemed unimportant right now. “Uncle Han was angry with you for selling him out; he passed you on to Seraph’s father. I get it.”

“No, you don’t.”

Demon’s eyes were liquid pools of darkness in his dusky face. His position on the pillow pushed his hair back and exposed him to Malachi. The anguish in his expression tore at Malachi’s heart. What horror had his partner been through?

“My Uncle Han was a smuggler, but in the eighties he realized the real money was in the sex trade. By the time I began to work for him, he had a large operation in place. I didn’t immediately realize what was happening until my sister disappeared.” Demon closed his eyes for a brief moment. “She was young and beautiful, but defiant. Uncle Han was angry with her because she refused to marry one of his lieutenants. So he sold her off to be rid of her.”

Malachi swallowed, trying to imagine a much younger Demon discovering such a thing. “Did you find her?”

“She’d been beaten to death in a brothel in Bangkok.” Demon exhaled long and slow. “I decided right then I didn’t care what happened to me, I was going to take my Uncle Han’s operation down to prevent anyone else from suffering her fate.”

Malachi reached beneath the covers until he found Demon’s hand. He twined their fingers together and hoped he could handle the burden of what he suspected was coming. “What happened?”

“Uncle Han found out and sold me to Seraph’s father with a shipment of sex slaves.” Demon’s features twisted into the parody of a smile. “It took more than chains to hold me. They drugged me within an inch of my life to keep me compliant.”

“How did you wind up with Seraph?”

Demon squeezed Malachi’s hand. “Back in those days she reminded me a little of my sister. Rebellious at the core and hungry for things her family refused to give her. We were both trapped in that household. She was the one who concocted a plan to secure our freedom.”

“That’s why you feel beholden to her.” Malachi realized Seraph had held Demon’s loyalty in the same way she’d held his. The woman had manipulated Malachi with fatherhood and Demon with honor.

“That ends in the morning,” Demon said quietly. “She’s racked up a list of transgressions karma isn’t going to let pass.”

“And Selena?”

Demon’s dark gaze was impenetrable. “At the moment it’s probably better that she remains separate from us.”

A stab of jealous anger took Malachi by surprise. “What if someone else steps in while we’re cleaning up this bullshit mess? What if we lose her because you let her walk out?”

Malachi knew he sounded like a petulant child, and he didn’t care. He’d trusted Demon, and now Selena was gone. His heart ached at the thought. Of all the preposterous things they didn’t have time for, the one that trumped all others was that he suspected he’d fallen in love with a woman so far out of his social strata it was laughable.

“I felt as if I’d been gut shot when she chose to leave.” The corner of Demon’s mouth quirked up. “But I’ve had some time to think it over since then.”

“And?”

“I cannot say why she left. I can only speculate.”

Malachi scoffed impatiently. “So speculate.”

“She’s young by our standards,” Demon mused. “I wouldn’t be surprised if I’m twenty years older than she is, and I’m already ten years older than you are.”

“Age is irrelevant when I feel the way I do.” Malachi didn’t bother to hide the fervency in his tone.

“Still, from her perspective it must be daunting.” Demon’s expression held none of his usual dominance. It was shockingly humble. “When this is over, when we can come to her as free men, without Seraph dogging our steps, there will be plenty of time to win her over. In all honesty I cannot imagine she’d ever find what she seeks with anyone else.”

Malachi knew what his partner was asking. Demon wanted his trust again. It wasn’t in Malachi’s nature to be patient or complacent. His first instinct was to find Selena, throw her over his shoulder, and carry her back to Triptych. Then he’d make love to her again and again until she admitted she never wanted to leave his side. Hell, he wanted to spill his seed in her body, no matter how long it took him to overcome his reservations.

Another thought occurred to Malachi. “How does Uncle Han fit into all of this?”

“I’m not sure. According to Lucas’s itinerary, Seraph’s entourage will pull into the garage between seven and seven thirty this morning. Seraph has an appointment she claims she cannot miss. I don’t know if that involves one of my uncle’s contacts or not. I can only venture that she went to New York to meet with Han. He doesn’t come to Boston.”

Malachi wondered where all of this was going to leave Demon. “Who handles his business interests here in Boston?”

“My cousin, Kun.”

“Kun? I feel like I’ve heard that name.” Malachi racked his brain trying to recall why the name sounded so familiar.

“In China he would be Yen Kun.” Demon’s tone was devoid of emotion. “Kun made an attempt five years ago to muscle his way into Asylum’s gambling operation. Torres and Davies squashed him flat. Since then he’s remained in New York with my Uncle.”

“And if he’s back?”

“I can only hope. Seraph prevented my involvement before. She didn’t want my uncle or cousin to know I was here.”

The sheer menace in Demon’s words made the hair on the back of Malachi’s neck stand on end. There was an underlying hatred that made him almost sorry for Demon’s cousin.

“Sleep, lover,” Demon whispered. “In a few short hours we’ll have more answers than we should want.”

Lulled by the warmth of Demon’s body and his steady breathing, Malachi sank into a light slumber. He wondered briefly where Selena was, and hoped she was safe—and alone.

Chapter Twenty-Two

Triptych was empty when Seraphina de Medici’s stretch Lincoln pulled into the parking garage at ten minutes to eight. With Malachi’s help, Demon had sent every last staff member home, from cooks and cleaning staff to security. The only ones who remained were Demon, Malachi, and Owen, who had refused to leave, saying he enjoyed the possibility of a good fight.

With Malachi and Owen ranging behind him, Demon waited in the chill damp air of the garage for Lucas to park the car. Both Lucas and Jace had opted to ride in the limo’s front seats, probably to avoid Seraph’s constant bitching.

Still keeping up the pretense of his duties, Demon strode forward and opened Seraph’s door. She had her phone glued to one ear when she stepped out. Reaching back inside the vehicle, she dragged a reluctant Mei-ling behind her.

The tiny woman’s countenance was even more hopeless than the last time Demon had seen her. Her pale complexion was sallow with dark smudges beneath her almond-shaped eyes. He couldn’t hold his silence any longer, deciding it was worthwhile to chance an interaction in Mandarin. “Has she abused you?”

Brief surprise flashed in Mei-ling’s eyes before she lowered them demurely to the ground. “No worse than my stepfather in Guangdong.”

Demon had been too long in America if he’d forgotten the probability that a girl like Mei-ling had been repeatedly abused by her own family prior to being sold like chattel. It enraged him, pushing his temper close to the boiling point—a place he could not afford to reach before Lars arrived with the proverbial cavalry.

“English or Italian, you piece of shit,” Seraph snapped. “The civilized world doesn’t speak chink.”

Demon would have responded had she bothered to end her phone call, but she chose to ignore him instead of waiting for his reply. That suited Demon just fine. The less he had to pretend, the better off he was.

Seraph strode toward the elevators, snapping her fingers at Demon as though he were a dog. His lip curled in distaste. Elevators were too much like the containers his uncle had used to ship his human cargo from China to America. Being stuck in one with Seraph was always ten times worse.

“I’ll have Lucas and Jace get her bags,” Malachi murmured as Demon passed by. “We don’t want to leave any potential evidence unaccounted for.”

“I’ll need you upstairs in her presence chamber.” Demon palmed his phone and pressed it into Malachi’s hand. “Call Lars and tell him to strike now before she has a chance to slither away. Owen can make sure the front doors are wide open.” Demon inhaled deeply and prepared to shut himself inside a tiny capsule with Satan’s mistress.

When the doors slid shut, his muscles began to twitch. Seraph ended her call and gave him a condescending smile. She looked every inch the successful businesswoman in her straight skirt, silk blouse, and blazer. The black stiletto boots hugging her legs were the only thing that remained of her usual dominatrix gear.

“Poor, poor Demon.” Her voice oozed sarcasm. “All shut up in a tiny space. I believe your room at my father’s mansion in Rome was very similar to this, was it not?”

“I suspect you would know, since you occupied similar quarters.” He didn’t bother to hide his derision.

She sneered. “At least I wasn’t my brother Giovanni’s fuck buddy.”

“No, I believe you belonged to your father.” Demon refused to let her back him down this time. “Wasn’t that the reason you and I banded together? To get rid of your father and brother so we could be free?”

Her face paled beneath her pretty olive complexion. She chewed her lower lip. “You owe me. You’ll always owe me.”

“I might have, once, before you followed in your family’s illustrious footsteps and became exactly what you once professed to hate.” Demon gazed at Mei-ling. “You promised me fifteen years ago you would never reopen those channels.”

The elevator doors let out a loud
ding
, the sound a startling addition to the tense silence. In the brief slice of time before the doors slid open, Demon let his mask slip. He showed Seraph just a peek of the rampant animosity he held toward her. She looked at him with dawning horror. As soon as possible, Seraph hurried to exit the tiny space. He could hear her rapid breaths and sense her rising fear.