Boston Avant-Garde 5: Bellicoso (24 page)

“Silly girl, why would I be angry?”

Selena wondered if her mouth was hanging open, or if she was just emotionally reeling from her mother’s casual remark. Being called a silly girl was an inflammatory response to the bitter memories, but Selena couldn’t deny a craving for her mother’s understanding.

A knock at the door made her mother rise quickly to let one of the maids carry a tray into the room. The tiny woman set the silver coffee service and covered dishes on the low table beside Selena’s chair. She poured coffee into two mugs and whisked the lids away before disappearing.

Her mother’s eyes followed the little maid as she left the room. “I didn’t grow up with money, you know. Your father met me at a charity event I’d managed to snag an invitation to. I’d been clinging to the fringe for years, desperate to be noticed.”

“Really?” Selena felt as if someone had just ripped away a chunk of what she believed about her past.

“Oh, we had a name of sorts. The Porters are an old Boston family that can trace its roots back to the Revolution. But by the time I came around the only thing that remained was the name. Nobody wanted to work for a living. So I scrounged what I could and went to secure myself a good provider. I was tired of scratching out a living while trying to pretend we belonged in the upper levels of Boston society.”

“So you married Dad for his money?” Selena poured herself a cup of coffee, adding the cream while trying to reconcile the woman who’d just talked about eternal love as the same one admitting her mercenary outlook on marriage.

“At first, yes!” Her mother had the temerity to look offended. “Falling in love came later.”

“Which is why you thought Jackson and I would eventually click?” Selena was starting to understand her mother, scary as that might be.

“It’s what I thought to expect for all my children. I just didn’t want any of you to have to work so hard to make a life that you had no time to enjoy living it.” Annaline sighed and reached for her own cup. “Obviously I was wrong on all three counts.”

“I love two men who are probably way too old for me. At least ten or twenty years, in fact.” The words tumbled out of Selena’s mouth like water under the bridge. It felt so good to say it out loud, even if it was ridiculous. “I’m probably nothing but a spoiled child to them, but when we’re together, I feel…sane.” How weird that
sanity
was the word her brain applied to that sensation of utter rightness that came from being with Demon and Malachi.

“Two men at once?” her mother mused. “You never did anything small.”

“You’re not offended?”

“Pish-posh, darling.” Her mother winked. “As if I never fantasized about finding myself in bed with Seth and Josh a time or two before they became boringly monogamous.”

“Oh ack! Tell me you never…?”

“I won’t tell you any such thing! I might have.” Another wink, this one even more disturbing. “In my younger years, that is.”

“Jeez, Mom. Do Desiree and Erik know about this stuff?” Selena reached for a cucumber sandwich. Even thinking about her mother’s hypothetical sex life wasn’t enough to stave off the hunger pains.

“Of course not. Your brother and sister are decidedly more vanilla than I am.” Annaline picked up a sandwich and examined it closely before sampling a corner.

“Did you just say vanilla?”

“Why yes, darling. I did.”

“I’m not vanilla. Not at all.” Selena wanted desperately for someone to understand this craving she had deep inside, even if it came from a most unexpected source. “And now I’m worried I’ll never find what I need.”

“Because you can’t match your two lovers for experience?”

Selena met her mother’s brilliant green gaze and saw a spark there she’d never noticed before. How could she have missed this woman’s voracious appetite for life? A woman who never gave up on love and passion even though it was often temporary?

“I wondered about you, Selena darling. You used dance to keep yourself so tightly bound together. Yet even when you left that behind, you managed to tie knots in your spirit to keep it tethered tight.”

“I left dance behind?” Selena shot to her feet, angry as hell. “I didn’t leave it! You made me walk away.”

“Nonsense.” Her mother didn’t even flinch. “Had you truly wanted that path, you’d have taken it. Nothing would have stood in your way. You chose to give in. You chose the submissive path.”

The submissive path? Was that really something Selena had chosen? Or was it just her nature? She’d been torn between meeting and failing expectations her whole life. She craved that safe place, the haven where who she was and who she could be meshed into one beautiful moment.

A moment in Malachi’s embrace, his strength holding me aloft while Demon sends me to the stars.

She’d left her inhibitions at the door with those two by her side. Who could say what the rest of her life would be like if she continued to explore her world from the safety they provided.

“Age is just a number, darling,” Annaline murmured. “If you truly believe you love these men, don’t let them go over something none of you can change. Strength comes from diversity. Perhaps your youth brings something to the table they could never find anywhere else.”

“What? What could I possibly give them?”

Her mother stood up and drew Selena in for a rare hug. “Love, darling. What else?”

Chapter Twenty-One

Malachi hadn’t expected to find Demon waiting in the shadows of his bedroom, but he sensed his Dom’s unmistakable presence. It was good he was here. Malachi would have torn the club apart hunting him down otherwise. Tension crackled in the air, though Malachi was uncertain if it was a product of anger or desire. There had always been a wealth of emotion humming beneath the surface of their relationship. They’d just never dug into it.

That was going to change.

“How is Alisa?” Demon’s low voice shattered the silence.

Now that was a loaded question. Alisa was fine, aside from her high hopes for Selena becoming part of their lives. “Other than accusing me of giving up on Selena before I’ve really tried? She’s fine.”

Demon left his shadowy corner for the middle of the room. “And are we giving up?”

There was the million-dollar question. Malachi threw his keys on the dresser and pulled his Henley over his head. He tossed the shirt aside and wondered if he was about to end a relationship. “I don’t know. In fact, I don’t even know if there’s a we anymore. Hell, I don’t know if there ever really was.”

“Malachi…”

“Don’t.” Malachi took two steps toward the man who’d been friend, mentor, lover, and master. “I told you. I’m done with blind trust. I know there’s a balance of power between you and me. I get it. But when it comes to decisions that affect my life and my daughter’s life?” Malachi reached out and cupped the back of Demon’s head. “I’m going to be an equal or I’m out.”

Malachi wasn’t sure whether or not he’d expected a struggle. Truthfully, Demon could have laid him on the floor with two fingers. He didn’t. In response, Malachi roughly pulled his lover close and melded his mouth to Demon’s in a hot kiss.

They battled for dominance like two bestial animals bent on gaining the upper hand. This wasn’t a contest of fighting prowess. The usual rules didn’t apply. Malachi was taller and heavier, and he used what little advantage it provided to push his way between Demon’s full lips. Their tongues tangled, teeth clicking as Malachi plundered Demon’s mouth. He reveled in the spicy, exotic taste of his lover and this newfound sense of power.

Malachi retreated briefly to gaze into his lover’s eyes. “I want to be inside you.”

The request was one he had never made. Malachi saw the brief flare of rebellion in Demon’s black gaze. His body stiffened in Malachi’s hold as if he intended to struggle. Then, the fight abruptly drained from Demon’s muscles as he became lax and compliant.

“Do you yield?” Malachi asked.

There was no hesitation. “Yes.”

Elation jolted Malachi, and he felt as if he could conquer the world. He grabbed the hem of Demon’s black T-shirt and yanked it off before flinging it aside. Touching had never been something afforded to him as a submissive, nor was it something Demon had ever encouraged. Now Malachi finally had a chance to satisfy a long-held desire.

He placed his hands on Demon’s chest, letting his thumbs brush over his partner’s dusky nipples until they hardened. Malachi rolled them gently between his thumbs and forefingers, enjoying the sharp intake of breath from his lover.

Lowering his head, Malachi laved his tongue over one pebbled nipple. Demon’s skin tasted sweeter than he’d imagined. He’d savored the musky flavor of his partner’s cock many times, but this was different. He set his teeth to the bud, and Demon hissed. His hands were fisted at his sides, and Malachi wondered how much control it took for the man to subdue his dominant nature.

Malachi slid both palms over the contour of Demon’s ribs as he explored the golden expanse of taut muscle on the man’s abdomen. He teased a path down Demon’s belly, letting his fingers dip below the waistband of his pants. The tip of Demon’s cock strained up to meet Malachi’s touch, but he avoided it for now.

He cradled Demon in his arms and kissed his neck and shoulder, all the while continuing to stroke low on Demon’s belly. Malachi followed the grooves that traveled across Demon’s narrow hips until his hands disappeared beneath Demon’s waistband. Malachi nipped and sucked at his partner’s skin, loving the taste of the resilient flesh beneath his teeth. There was no sound from Demon. No gasp or exclamation of pleasure. Only the tension in Demon’s muscles hinted at the lust Malachi sensed simmering beneath his solemn exterior.

Finally Malachi turned his partner around until he could caress the tawny flesh of his golden back. Demon’s shoulders were deceptively narrow. The hard muscle was formed into beautifully shaped deltoids. Malachi kneaded these with his hands, straying lower and lightly tracing Demon’s spine to the small of his back.

Malachi’s own cock was straining at the laces of his leather pants. He wanted to fuck so badly he could hardly think straight. This wasn’t just another liaison though; this was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to sink deep into his lover’s ass. He wasn’t about to blow that.

Malachi bracketed Demon’s hips with his hands. He rubbed the ridge of his cock against his lover’s body once. The friction was delicious, but he knew what he really wanted.

“Grab the bedpost,” he told Demon.

Demon didn’t balk. He crossed the room in fluid strides and wrapped his hands around the round newel post of Malachi’s enormous bed. The bed was at a height comfortable enough for Malachi to lean over it while Demon fucked him in the ass. Anticipation curled through Malachi’s veins. Now they’d see how it worked in reverse.

For now, Malachi moved behind Demon and began to grind against his tight ass. Malachi wrapped one arm around his lover and let his chest rub slowly over Demon’s back. Malachi’s nipples beaded into tiny points, and he savored the burn of hot desire.

He slid his hand over Demon’s right shoulder, wrapping it lightly around his partner’s neck. Malachi was pushing him, intentionally ripping away the boundaries and barriers that had always existed. He didn’t know why, but he knew that he had to force the interaction if they were ever going to reach the level of intimacy necessary to sustain them.

DEMON STRUGGLED AGAINST the contact, instinct warring against his desire to allow Malachi the closeness Demon knew he needed. It would have been so easy to pull the aura of power around him like a cloak and subjugate Malachi. And if all else failed, Demon could incapacitate without breaking a sweat using pressure points. Points Malachi would never protect because he trusted Demon.

Trust was a fickle bitch.

Malachi’s skin was hot against Demon’s back. Demon focused on the sensation of closeness, on the confidence and power he’d spent almost a decade fostering inside Malachi. If this was how it had to manifest, then so be it. Demon loved Malachi too much to deny him.

Malachi reached around Demon’s waist and unfastened his jeans. Demon groaned when his lover’s hands slid beneath the black denim. He wasn’t wearing anything underneath. He rarely did. Malachi placed his hands on Demon’s thighs and let his fingers dig into the sensitive flesh.

It was torture to have Malachi’s touch so close and yet so far from his pulsing erection. Demon flexed his ass and clenched his teeth against wave after wave of need. He denied himself regularly, but not like this. Never like this.

Malachi pulled Demon back against the rock-solid ridge still trapped behind his pants. Malachi skinned Demon’s jeans from his body. They slid painfully across his rigid flesh and down to the floor, where they pooled at his feet.

“Take them off,” Malachi ordered.

Demon toed off his boots, thankful he’d left the laces only half-done. Behind him, he could hear Malachi peeling off the leather that encased his muscular legs. Anticipation slid up Demon’s spine. It was accompanied by a twinge of dread, a dark stirring of the past that Demon kept forcefully at bay.

Malachi reached for a tube sitting on the nightstand. “Turn around and lube up my cock.”

Demon held out his hand for a generous portion of gel. He refused to meet his lover’s slate gaze. Demon wasn’t sure what Malachi would see there. So many emotions swirled unchecked through his system. Love, hate, elation, fury, but most of all he felt an overwhelming sense of aptness. This was right. This was fate.

Malachi’s long, thick erection was satin soft in Demon’s hands. The familiarity of his lover’s shaft calmed the raging torrent inside Demon’s mind. He smoothed the lube over the hot flesh, trying to bring Malachi pleasure as he did.

“Fuck, your hands feel good,” Malachi ground out.

Demon pumped his lover’s cock, starting at the base and then feathering caresses over the sensitive flange. Malachi trembled, and Demon knew he would be overcome in mere seconds. Dominance hung in the balance. This was the moment when Demon could turn the tide, reemerge as the Dom, and overwhelm his more submissive lover.