Read Boston Avant-Garde 5: Bellicoso Online

Authors: Kaitlin Maitland

Tags: #BDSM; Menage; Multicultural

Boston Avant-Garde 5: Bellicoso (14 page)

Lars lounged insolently in the chair. “What we’ve never been able to discover is why you left your uncle’s crime family for the Medicis. You disappeared from China when you were twenty-six, an age that would have gained you some serious clout over there. Especially with your reputation for effective violence.”

“Making your plans to threaten me foolish, don’t you think?” Demon was tired of hearing about his past sins.

“Then poof! You reappear here in Boston fifteen years ago, and now you do Seraphina de Medici’s dirty work for her. Not exactly a promotion, is it?” Lars examined his diamond wristwatch. “And let’s not forget you’re here illegally.”

Demon was feeling more impatient by the second. There were two beautiful submissives waiting for him in the training room, and he was listening to a spoiled trust-fund brat rehash an abbreviated version of the last twenty-five years of his life. “You still haven’t managed to explain what your goal is here and now.”

“You’ve helped Seraphina de Medici plug into your uncle’s crime syndicate. You’re the linchpin, Yen. We take you down, we take it all.”

Demon crossed his legs at the ankle, ignoring the shot of adrenaline Lars’s words sent rocketing through his bloodstream. Obviously Interpol had its wires crossed. It was safe to assume Lars was here to garner more information about Seraph’s business dealings. Why the man would give Demon this song and dance was a mystery. If Interpol really thought Demon was the criminal mastermind, they’d arrest him and let the whole ring tumble to the ground.

“What? No sarcastic remark?” Lars checked his watch again.

“Seraph is in New York.” Demon made a split-second decision to go with his instincts. “She checked into the Trump Tower Hotel for two nights.”

“My sources said nothing about that.”

“If Seraph couldn’t manage to disguise her intentions from Interpol when traveling less than four hours from her home turf, she would’ve been dead years ago.” Demon didn’t add that he wouldn’t have minded that outcome. There was no need to broadcast the long-standing friction between himself and Seraph just yet. “I suggest you put off whatever it is you’re waiting for tonight.”

Lars jerked as if he’d been stung.

“Periodically checking your watch is one thing. Studying it like a religious zealot sends up a red flare.” Demon stood. “Two nights. That’s all I’m asking for. If you haven’t heard from me by eight a.m. on the second day, you can storm the doors with my blessing.”

“What about Selena?”

There was no easy answer to that one. “She’s safe. I’ll have her escorted off the property before the deadline passes.”

“You’re keeping her in this place for two days? Are you insane?”

Demon pushed his hair away from his face. “She’s free to leave anytime. Should she want to.”

Chapter Thirteen

Selena followed Malachi deeper into Triptych’s Underground. “How did you know I’d be at the door tonight?”

“Demon spotted you when you came in upstairs.”

The hallway opened into a long, low room filled with people dressed as if they’d been ripped straight out of an erotic film. The majority of clothing was made from latex and designed to show as much skin as possible. Collars abounded, from plain leather to chrome studded. Several men and women wore full harnesses that strapped their naked bodies to furniture stationed at intervals around the room.

She spotted a man wearing nothing but a collar and a cage-like apparatus around his genitalia. The sight made her pause.

Malachi followed her gaze. “It’s a male chastity device. Although that one is more for looks than functionality.”

“So not hard-core enough for you, is that it?” Her flippant comment was meant to make it sound as if she was unaffected by what she was seeing. There was so much to take in that Selena was overwhelmed. It titillated, enticed, while simultaneously shocking her with the implications. Most of the crowd seemed to be gathered at the far end of the room.

“I guess it depends on how you define hard-core.” His slow, sensual smile made her melt. He gestured to the display that held the group’s attention. Selena craned her neck to see, stepping closer to Malachi’s warmth in the process.

A dark, slim-hipped man dressed in black latex pants swung a whip at his side. It looked far scarier than the flogger Malachi had used on her. The black, wrapped handle had a braided-leather loop on one end that would sting like hell every time it made contact.

“See what the submissive is wearing on his dick?” Malachi asked.

The fair-haired sub’s hands were shackled to a length of chain anchored to the ceiling. His nude body was sleek, tanned, and utterly hairless. His shaved groin looked smooth and satin-soft save for the metal ring clamped around the base of his thick penis.

Malachi watched as the Dom laid a stripe across the sub’s ass with the whip. “There are metal teeth on the inside of the ring.”

A groan ricocheted around the chamber. The Dom gave his submissive another lash. Heat curled through Selena’s body. It would be sheer ecstasy to be the complete focus of someone’s sensual attention. She could almost feel the bite against her own skin.

Sweat beaded on the sub’s honeyed skin, trickling down the grooves in his abdomen as he fought to control his arousal. Selena’s thighs grew slippery with creamy fluid from her pussy. “So what happens if he gets an erection?”

“It bites him.” Malachi’s rumbling tone made her shiver. “Sexual desire is a double-edged sword. The teeth dig into him if he becomes erect, which is both pleasure and pain. That’s the torture.”

As she watched, the man’s penis quivered and grew firmer. He cried out. The sound sent ripples of sexual tension through her system. God help her, she wasn’t sure if being turned on by this was right or wrong. Worse, she didn’t care.

Malachi was moving again. She had to hurry to catch up with his longer strides. He took a right down a hallway, and she recognized the path. They were headed back toward the training room. Excitement made her almost giddy.

He chose a key from the chain around his neck and unlocked the door. “Ladies first.”

She kept her pace leisurely and deliberate. There was no need to let him know it was all she could do not to strip naked and volunteer to get on the table.

“Why are you here, Selena?”

He hadn’t locked the door behind them. She’d expected him to lock it. Did that mean he wasn’t going to tie her up and have his wicked way with her? Selena wasn’t sure how to answer his question. Did she even know why she was here?

“Cat got your tongue?” He took several steps closer. “I’ll ask again. Why are you here?”

Everything about him was bold and beautiful. He was larger than life, sexy and confident and everything she wanted in a lover. Why couldn’t she just say it? “You made me feel…”

“Feel what?”

Hell, he’d made her feel. Period. In her life that was something unique. Sex had never been fulfilling. It had been mechanical and messy, something that barely ever took the edge off her hunger. She’d once taunted her older sister by saying sex was hardly necessary in the age of vibrators.

He moved closer, teasing her with his scent and the promise of his taste. She felt as if he was within her very bones, and they’d never even kissed. How was that possible?

“I want you to have sex with me.” She managed to force the words past her lips. The admission left her vulnerable in her need, and it wasn’t pleasant.

“Sweet, sweet, Selena.” He lowered his head until only a whisper separated their mouths. “That is such a vanilla statement.”

She drew back as if slapped. “What?”

“You want me to have sex with you?” He swept his hand out to encompass the bed wrapped in slick black sheets. “Just take you over there, hike up your dress, and plant my dick in your hot little cunt. Is that it?”

She tried not to make it obvious she was squirming in her panties at the crass mental image he’d painted. “I want you to fuck me. Isn’t that what every guy wants to hear?”

“But aren’t you tired of fucking every guy? Isn’t that why you came here looking for me?” He invaded her space, his breath caressing the sensitive skin beneath her ear, then the nape of her neck, his lips grazing her shoulder. “You want what I gave you before. The feelings of being at the mercy of another, of letting them dictate your pleasure. Isn’t that what you want?”

Her insides were melting. She clenched her hands and dug her fingernails into her palms to keep from sinking to her knees. Biting her lower lip, she managed to keep her errant mouth from blurting out that yes, that was exactly what she wanted.

Abruptly, he stripped the Henley from his upper body and tossed it aside. Her fingers itched to explore his broad chest. A thin line of fuzz began just below his navel, disappearing between the laces of his leather pants. The oddest urge to kiss his belly made her whimper. She wanted to lick a trail from his navel to the nest of hair at the base of his cock. Never in her life had she wanted to put a man’s penis in her mouth. Right now she was ready to change her mind and give it a try.

The door opened, the hinges making a tiny squeak to announce another visitor. Selena stepped away from Malachi. She was certain whoever walked in was going to see the naked desire written all over her face.

Whatever she might have been about to say left her brain when she realized Yen stood inside the training room. She stumbled back a step, glancing at Malachi to see if he’d been anticipating this. What she saw made her heart do a double tap.

Malachi sank to his knees, crouching on the stone floor in the most graceful yet subservient pose she had ever seen. The sight bewildered as much as it beguiled. He took something that should have been ridiculous and made it beautiful.

His powerful body was poised and ready. With his chin canted toward the floor, his silky hair covered his face and obscured his expression.

Yen moved toward Malachi. His every movement was a study in grace and power. There was a beauty to him that went beyond his exotic looks. Malachi was gritty and sexy like a beast that made her want to do wild things. Yen’s golden skin and sleek, compact build made her feel safe enough to let loose and never worry about falling.

He was still wearing jeans and a nondescript T-shirt. His boots made no noise when he walked. He gently brushed the second and third fingers of his right hand against Malachi’s left shoulder.

“And?” The timbre of Yen’s voice seemed to have a direct effect on her sex drive.

Malachi rose to his feet and glanced at her. “Textbook.”

Selena stiffened. That was not a term she was fond of. Especially not when it was aimed at her. She took another step back, only to realize she was crowded against the enormous bed.

Surreal didn’t even cover what was going on here. She’d been so worried about how she was going to get the two of them onboard with trying a threesome. Now she was starting to wonder if she’d been completely naive about the whole thing.

“We have a proposition for you, Selena,” Yen said.

She shook her head, feeling as if she should be setting the expectations here and not just going with the flow. “How is there a we? Can you explain that to me please? Until a few hours ago I had no idea the two of you knew each other.” She nibbled her lower lip, wondering if she was about to say something foolish. “It was you that night in the street, wasn’t it? You were the one who took the gun from Jackson.”

“Yes. I did that.” He made a perfect bow from the waist. “My name is Yaojing Yen.”

“The Demon of Triptych.” The words slipped out, and she clapped her hand over her mouth in shock. Offending him wasn’t going to get her what she wanted most.

He only smiled. “Perhaps. Though the literal translation of my name is more along the lines of seductive sprite. Chinese mythos holds with sprites being demons. The meaning is actually that of a seductive presence.”

“So what do I call you?”

“Demon.” He lifted his chin, and the thick, straight hair fell back to reveal an expression that was as seductive as his name promised.

It still didn’t explain the relationship between him and Malachi. Though something in her gut told her she knew exactly what it was. She simply wasn’t ready to acknowledge it.

“Malachi is my submissive.”

Her gaze swung wildly to Malachi. She thought back to the exhibition she’d seen on their way to the training room. Never would she have imagined a man like him with his cock clamped into a torture device, and another man whipping his ass.

Her nipples puckered painfully against the fabric of her dress. The constant shock and arousal was sending her into an emotional tailspin. Was that the reason she found the mental image of Demon slapping Malachi’s gorgeous backside to be a major turn-on?

Another forbidden fantasy slid like silk through her senses. She’d dreamed of having two lovers. She’d never had anal sex. Never even wanted to try it. Yet here were two hot guys who had firsthand experience with the kind of kinky sex she’d imagined in her darkest fantasies. What might it be like to have one in her pussy and the other in her ass? Even more delicious, could she watch them fuck each other?

She was panting, her breath coming in quick, short gasps that had her light-headed. If she didn’t calm down, she was either going to come or faint dead away.

The expression on Demon’s face said he knew exactly where her thoughts were heading. “Back to our proposition.”

“I’m listening,” she squeaked.

“You’ve showed an interest in bondage, in learning how to be submissive.” He gave a careless shrug. “Let us have one night to show you what it can be like.”

“One night?” It seemed like either an enormous amount of time or not enough. She couldn’t decide. It wasn’t as if she’d ever had a lover who would’ve rated even a three-hour sex marathon.

“One night.” He moved closer until she smelled him. If Malachi smelled good, Demon was beyond sexy. A hint of cinnamon mixed with something exotic. It made her want to rub against him.

“What do I have to do?” She was an Aasen. It was in their DNA to obsess over details.

The gleam in his eyes turned them obsidian hard. “Whatever I tell you to do.”

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