King of Thieves: Demons of Elysium, Book 2

by Jane Kindred

  “How I feel?” He landed another blow, this time in Belphagor’s gut, eliciting a groan and a huff of air from him. “Did you ask me how I felt when you sold me to the fucking Fletchery and left me there?” Vasily swung again, connecting with a surprisingly hard six-pack as Belphagor braced for it and tightened his abs.

  And then, before he knew what had happened, he was down on one knee with Belphagor behind him in a similar stance, pinning Vasily’s arm at a painful angle, his other arm hooked tight around Vasily’s throat. “No I didn’t, malchik,” he whispered. “And I’m sorry. And I love you. And I don’t know how to make things right, but I don’t want to lose you.” He breathed in deeply against Vasily’s neck, sending a tremor down his spine. “Bozhe moi,” he murmured. “I miss fucking you.”

  “Then fuck me,” Vasily growled. “But quit calling me ‘boy’.”

  In one swift movement, Belphagor had him up on his feet and bent over the kitchen table, unbuttoning and yanking down his pants with frantic speed. Vasily moaned in anticipation as Belphagor swiped the decanter of salad oil from the table in front of him, belt jangling violently as he released himself. Warm oil dribbled over Vasily’s ass, the decanter back on the table as quickly as Belphagor had swept it away, and then, with a groan from both of them, he was in, filling Vasily. He fucked him without mercy, one fist in Vasily’s hair and the other pumping Vasily’s cock, slick with oil, the teacups rattling and sloshing on the table until they skittered off and shattered on the floor.

  Vasily tried to hold out, knowing Belphagor wouldn’t come as long as he didn’t, wanting to use Vasily when he was spent and moaning softly beneath him, helpless to stop him and incapable of pretending not to want it. But he was wound so tight from the past couple of weeks without the touch he craved, and from the awful tension between them, that he came after just a few minutes, clutching the edges of the table and groaning through his teeth as his hips jolted. Belphagor milked his cock until it was almost unbearable, long past empty, and then dug both hands into his hair like he was gripping a horse’s mane and rode him hard, the slap of his pelvis against Vasily’s ass a loud, rapid tattoo, before he let out a deep, guttural shout as he ejaculated, jerking powerfully inside him.

  Belphagor’s body relaxed against him when he’d finished, and he kissed Vasily’s neck where the holes of the piercing were closing over, making Vasily tense with a sudden urge to weep. “I can’t live without you,” Belphagor murmured against his skin. “My sweet, angry firespirit. I’ll find a way to make you trust me again, I promise.”

  Vasily’s grip loosened on the edge of the table. “Bel—” The word he’d meant to say was abruptly cut off by the sound of the slamming front door.

  Belphagor scrambled off him, and Vasily dove for his pants, hitching them up so fast he left his shorts bunched under his balls.

  “I think they heard it that time,” said Lev in a voice of profound amusement. After loudly removing their shoes and slipping into their tapochki, Lev and Dmitri sauntered into the kitchen, hand in hand. Lev frowned at the sight of his broken teacups.

  “Sorry,” said Belphagor, following his glance. “Slippery fingers.” He wiped oil on his pants. “I’ll pay to replace them.”

  “You’re going to clean that up,” said Lev a bit tersely. Breaking teacups was apparently crossing a line with him. He motioned deliberately with his eyes toward the floor beneath the table. “And you’re going to clean that up too.”

  Heat climbed Vasily’s face, but Belphagor’s eyes danced with amusement. “I’ll take care of the tea and cups, Vasya. You can get the cream.”

  Devyataya

  He knew the sex wasn’t a magic salve that would fix everything that was wrong between them, but it had taken the edge off the feelings of hopelessness and despair. Not to mention that it had been fucking hot.

  Belphagor sat on the couch watching television after the others had gone to bed that evening, too hot to sleep, even with the windows open. A few annoying mosquitos took advantage of the situation, whining past him, but demons were lucky in that respect; mosquitos seemed not to like their blood.

  Not really paying attention to the news program that was on, he found himself pleasantly uncomfortable as he pictured Vasily bent over the kitchen table. Belphagor unbuttoned and stroked himself, eyes closed as he took himself through the scene step by step: bringing Vasily to the ground; eliciting his gruff, unexpected expression of desire; swinging him onto the table and stripping him; oil dripping between his cheeks; Vasily’s groan; fucking his boy.

  “Oh fuck,” he hissed out with pleasure, spurting into his hand.

  “I see my timing’s off again.”

  Belphagor opened his eyes, unembarrassed, to meet Lev’s where he leaned against the doorframe.

  “I’d have been happy to help you with that.” Lev smirked and entered the room. “Too hot to sleep?”

  Belphagor smiled, stroking the sticky fluid over his abs. “Was. So I took care of it.”

  Lev sat beside him on the sofa, eyeing his softening erection with regret. “Still seems pretty warm in here to me.” He shifted on the cushions, his own erection visible within the loose boxers.

  “And Dmitri? How’s he handling the heat?”

  “He can sleep through anything.”

  “Shame.” Belphagor contemplated moving his hand to Lev’s lap. The invitation had definitely been made.

  “Sounded like you and Vasily were making up earlier.”

  “Not exactly. More like a truce.”

  Lev grinned. “I like the way you truce.”

  His fingers had found their way to the elastic waistband of Lev’s shorts and Lev made a soft gasp as he slipped them inside. There was nothing quite like reaching into a demon’s pants and feeling a fierce erection, sight unseen. Enjoying Lev’s sudden rapid breathing, he stroked his hand over the head and down deeper, fingers curling around Lev’s smooth balls.

  “You’ve shaved,” he noted with a gentle squeeze.

  Lev’s breath hitched with a sweet hint of a moan at the end of it. “Dmitri prefers it. I have to admit, it’s kind of—” He pressed his lips together and hummed against them, head tilting back against the couch and his fair cheeks flushed. “Kind of—” His fists clenched at his sides as Belphagor stroked up the shaft and teased the rim. “Oh Bel.” Lev shivered. “I’ve missed you.”

  Belphagor smiled and leaned over to kiss him, and when Lev opened his mouth, he took the opportunity to silence the demon so he could stroke him hard. Legs widening, Lev moaned under his kiss and practically melted into the couch, grabbing hold of Belphagor’s neck.

  Belphagor pulled his mouth away. “Naughty boy,” he whispered as Lev’s eyes flew open. “No touching. In fact, no more moving. Anything.”

  His hand falling to his side in obedience, Lev made a quiet whimper as Belphagor descended on his lips once more. His body was tense as he tried not to move, making strangled noises under his kiss as Belphagor’s hand sped up, the soft whisper of friction the only other sound in the house.

  When Belphagor pulled his mouth away again, Lev moaned in protest.

  “Quiet,” ordered Belphagor. “No movement. No sound.” He pushed Lev’s cock through the fly of the boxers, letting it stand stiff and inflamed while Lev’s breath heaved in his chest. “Right now, you’re mine to do with as I please. And all you will do is watch yourself come.”

  Lev’s entire body shuddered involuntarily and he stared wide-eyed and transfixed into his own lap as Belphagor jerked him off. Admirably, he managed to keep relatively still as the pearly fluid jetted out of him, but he couldn’t stifle an almost violent groan, cheeks huffing and puffing as he tried in vain to hold the sound in.

  Tears were actually rolling down his cheeks with the effort when he’d finished, and Belphagor rewarded him with a kiss. “You can move now,” he whispered.

  Lev, who’d been holding the tension in every muscle of his body, collapsed into the couch, his head falling back onto the cushion an
d rolling to the side. “Yebi menya,” he swore.

  Belphagor grinned. “You’re welcome.”

  The slam of the bathroom door announced that their little tête-à-tête hadn’t been quite as discreet as Belphagor had imagined.

  “Shit.” He scrambled to put himself back together. “Dmitri or Vasily?”

  Lev gave him an apologetic wince. “Dmitri’s not really a slammer.”

  “Shit.” Belphagor got up and went down the hall to knock at the bathroom door.

  “Fuck off,” came the firespirit growl from inside. Shit, shit and shit.

  He leaned his head against the wood. “Vasya—” The door opened suddenly, and he nearly fell inside.

  “What the fuck is wrong with you?” Vasily’s face was red with fury and his element was sparking along his skin, but the worst thing about his appearance was that he was crying.

  “Please. Lyubov. It was just between friends. We’ve all played together—”

  “You gave him orders, Beli.” The choked-out endearment cut like a knife. “I can’t be your boy, so you found another. Right in front of me.”

  “No.” Belphagor reached for him. “No, malchik, that isn’t true.”

  “Don’t fucking call me ‘boy’!” Vasily slammed the door so fast Belphagor didn’t have time to move, and it struck him in the face.

  While he stood staring at the door in shock with blood running over his lip, Dmitri came out of the bedroom on the left. “What’s all this yelling and slamming?”

  Lev spoke from the doorway of the living room. “I fucked up.”

  Hands gripping the outside of the doorframe, Belphagor looked down at the floor. A splat of blood dripped onto the parquet between his feet. “You didn’t do anything, Lev.”

  “Except spy on you while you were having a lovely orgasm thinking about Vasily, and then throw myself at you.” Lev advanced slowly down the hallway. “I’m sorry, Dmitri. I know I should have talked to you before fooling around.”

  Belphagor pushed away from the doorframe and turned, ready to give his own apology, but Dmitri spoke before he could.

  “And why would you want to do that, Lyova, when it’s so much easier to get your rocks off with the Prince of Tricks while I sleep?”

  Lev’s face went white, while Belphagor was sure his own had gone another color.

  “Maybe you should just share the couch with him tonight.” Dmitri stepped back into the bedroom and firmly closed the door.

  After several seconds of motionless shock, Lev turned to stare at Belphagor. “You’re bleeding.”

  “I should be.” He wiped the back of his hand against his upper lip.

  “I’m really sorry about this.” Lev looked like he was about to cry. Shit. Then he’d have two crying demons on his hands.

  “It’s not your fault. Or only half your fault, anyway. I’m an asshole.”

  “That’s for fucking sure!” Vasily’s angry growl through the door was actually encouraging. It was when Vasily was silent that one really had to worry.

  “Go ahead and take the couch, Lev. I’ll figure something out.” A loud snort came from the bathroom, and Belphagor smiled. He nodded his head toward the living room, and Lev went with a sigh.

  Belphagor turned back to the door and took a deep breath. “Vasya?”

  “Fuck you.”

  “I’m going to open the door.” He took the lack of response as an invitation and opened it.

  Vasily was leaning back against the porcelain sink, red-eyed, but not with anger. “I actually thought you meant it when you said you’d make me trust you.”

  Belphagor sighed and scrubbed his hand over his face. “I admit, I’m not off to a good start.”

  “Ha.”

  “I’m not going to try to defend my actions. That was a really stupid thing I just did, and I know I’ve hurt you. But I want to say this one thing to you: I did not find another boy. I will never find another boy. You are the only boy I will ever have—”

  “Dammit, Belphagor—”

  “And if I can’t win back your trust, if I simply don’t deserve your trust, I’ll have to accept that I’ve lost the one thing I value most. But for the rest of my life, there will only be you.”

  Vasily was crying again, firespirit tears that steamed as they dripped down his face.

  Belphagor took a step toward him. “Please don’t cry, love. I’d rather you hit me again.”

  “You always want to take the easy way out.” Vasily swatted at the tears with the palms of his hands. “Were you really thinking of me when you came?”

  The unexpected question took him aback. “Of course. Reliving those moments with you bent over the table today will sustain me for a long time.”

  Vasily ducked his head as if he’d almost smiled and wanted to hide it. “Well, they may have to. I’m going to stay here with Silk for a while. Not here, I mean, but the world of Man. I need you to give me some facets. I know you have a lot more than you pretend, and I need some. I’ll pay you back.”

  Belphagor tried to still the anxious bird that had taken up residence in his chest since Vasily had come along, wings beating hard enough to break. “Where are you going to go on your own? You don’t know anything about the world of Man.”

  “I know enough. We’ll find a safe house first, and then I’ll find a place we can afford on your facets until I can build up my clientele.”

  “Your clientele?”

  Vasily looked up sharply, his eyes fierce. “Don’t tell me what to do with my body. Don’t you say a word. It’s not yours anymore.”

  He tried not to let the pain this caused him show. “You could be killed for doing business here. You don’t understand.”

  “I am not stupid, Belphagor!”

  “My first time in prison was for solicitation and sodomy.”

  This actually gave Vasily pause. “What’s sodomy?”

  “Basically, any sexual act that isn’t directly related to procreation.” Belphagor folded his arms across his chest. “Trust me when I say you do not want to go to prison for that.”

  Vasily was quiet a moment, and then he shrugged. “I’ll just have to make sure I don’t get caught, then.”

  “And you think there’s a big market in the world of Man for six-foot-five male prostitutes with wild flame-colored locks who look like they could crush a car.”

  Vasily glared. “There’s a market for everything.”

  While that was likely true, Vasily would be eaten alive in the world of Man trying to find his market. But what could Belphagor do? “I understand that you don’t trust me emotionally. But I wish you would trust my judgment.” He held up his hand before Vasily could interrupt him. “I’ve also known you long enough to realize I don’t stand a chance of dissuading you. So I’ll give you the money. Money, not facets. You have to start thinking like a terrestrial, or you won’t last a day here on your own. But please consider undertaking a less dangerous line of work. Dmitri can find you something.”

  “Bel—”

  “If you want my financial support, you will make the attempt. I’ll make arrangements with Dmitri to keep an account for you.”

  Vasily’s lips set in a thin line. “Fine.”

  Belphagor observed him for a long moment, as if he could memorize the angry set of his jaw, the spark of fire in his pupils, the firewood scent of him if he just stared long enough. “But this is temporary. When I’ve tracked down the missing demons and returned them safely to Heaven, we’re going to face this once and for all.”

  He slept in a chair in the kitchen, not wanting to add any more fuel to the fire he’d ignited between Lev and Dmitri. In the morning, Silk was lucid enough that he was able to question him, but there was very little he remembered from the drugged haze the traffickers had kept him in. He hadn’t even known he’d fallen to the world of Man until Vasily told him.

  The only recourse Belphagor had now was to return to his hotel room in the city and wait for the pimp he’d redeemed Silk from to make cont
act. But before heading out, a private conversation with Dmitri was in order.

  “I’m not pissed at you, Bel,” Dmitri assured him while they smoked and walked through nearby Alexander Park, past the museums that had once been the palaces of tsars. “It’s pointless to be angry with you. It would be like being angry with a thunderstorm for standing in its downpour and getting struck by lightning.”

  “I’m not sure whether to be relieved or offended.”

  Dmitri blew out a puff of smoke. “Don’t push your luck.”

  “I don’t want to be a source of tension between you and Lev. It was just a lapse in judgment on both our parts. It’s not as if he meant to do something behind your back. If he’d meant to cheat on you, he wouldn’t have let it happen in the next room from you.”

  “Interesting way to look at it.” A sharp flick of glowing ash from Dmitri’s cigarette landed on Belphagor’s sleeve and burned the fabric before he slapped it out.

  “I’m just saying you know him better than that. If you’d been awake, it would have been the three of us.”

  “The three of us. So just Vasily would feel betrayed.”

  “I’m not saying this right. I mean if it were only the three of us at your place, we’d all three be having fun together, and that’s all it was, a bit of fun.”

  Dmitri sighed as they reached the shore of the lake at the center of the park and paused to stare out at the water. “Belphagor, it’s painfully obvious that you and Lev click in a way that you and I never have. And that’s fine. You and I are far too competitive to ever fully enjoy each other sexually on our own. But Lev and I have something real here.”

  “I know that.”

  “As real as what you have with Vasily—which you’re going to have to come to terms with and do some heavy self-examination if you ever intend to fix the damage you’ve done with him. You think every encounter is a game and that everyone else sees it that way.” Dmitri turned and met his eyes. “Vasily doesn’t just play at submitting to you. I don’t think he’s even fully aware of the sexual subtext between your angry interactions. He’s genuinely angry. And so far, you’ve managed to channel his anger into the intense physical encounters you both thrive on. But make no mistake. Every time you drive him to that edge, he thinks it’s the end.”