11. Luke
Chapter 11
Luke
Morning brought with it a novel experience. Luke woke in the arms of another. Flat on his back, Malachi was curled against him, fingers tickling the coarse hair on Luke’s chest. He was obviously awake, leaning over Luke. His soft breaths tickled the side of Luke’s face and neck, and the weight of his elbow dipped the mattress by Luke’s head.
“Good morning, treasure,” Malachi whispered. “I know you’re awake.”
Luke sighed contentedly but didn’t open his eyes. He turned his head, blindly seeking Malachi’s mouth and murmuring with pleasure when lips brushed his, feather-light. Clever fingers trailed soft heat down his abdomen, deviating to trace pale scars on their way down. His stomach dipped as they slipped below the supple sheet, grazing his morning hard-on and then touching again, more intently, dragging fingers down his length and back up.
“You snore,” Malachi said, his amusement audible. “Did you know? ”
Luke shook his head, his eyes moving behind his closed lids. “No. No one’s ever been around to tell me.”
“It’s adorable.” Lips touched his chest, kissing idly as his hand firmed around Luke’s shaft. “These soft little whuffing sounds. Quiet when you’re on your side or stomach, louder when you’re on your back.”
He was on his back now. Was that how Malachi knew he was awake? “Did I bother you?” His breaths quickened as heat sparked under his skin, like a flame coaxed patiently to life by a practiced hand.
“Not at all,” Malachi said. “I mean, I don’t have to sleep as much as a human anyway, but even if I did, I wouldn’t have minded. I like it.”
Luke blinked his eyes open at that. The room was dark, as he’d thought to close the curtains last night after Malachi remarked something about the brightness of the morning sun. Only a sliver of golden light spilled through the crack in the fabric, bouncing off the cream-colored wall and giving the room a hazy glow.
“You like… my snoring?” he asked blankly.
Malachi grinned, doing something with his thumb on the head of Luke’s cock that made his body jerk. “Yeah. It’s so human. I’ve fallen asleep to the sound of the air conditioner or the fan for… years. Decades. I’ve never been close enough to a human to sleep beside them. Your snores are a sign of life. Your breaths are more hypnotic and relaxing to me than any machine could be. I love it.” As he said this, his hand didn’t falter, working Luke’s cock in his hand just right .
It was too much. Luke hissed in a breath, his heels digging into the bed and his hand slipping down to grip Malachi’s strong wrist, urging him for more .
“You need something, treasure?” Malachi teased, his hand slowing.
“Mal, please .”
His chuckle rolled through Luke like honeyed whiskey. He shifted his weight, nudging Luke’s legs apart with one knee and sliding down his body. His tongue darted out, licking the precum from the tip. Luke shuddered, pressing his lips together to muffle his moans. Malachi showered his cock in open-mouthed, sucking kisses, his tongue teasing the head. Luke’s thighs shook, his stomach moving like a bellows with his breathless gasps. When Malachi finally took him all the way down, he couldn’t bite back his moan of relief, nor the way his body reacted, arching up and pressing deeper into the tight heat of his throat.
He opened his mouth to apologize when Malachi grabbed his hip and urged him to do it again, guiding a hand to the back of his head and showing him how to press, to force his cock deeper down his throat.
“God, Mal,” Luke groaned, tangling his fingers in his silken black hair and fucking up into his mouth. Malachi’s moans vibrated down his length, and when he glimpsed Malachi stroking himself, his forearm flexing in the low light, he was nearly undone. His other palm cradled Luke’s sac, massaging gently.
Malachi didn’t seem to need air—but then, he was a demon, so maybe he didn’t. He sucked Luke’s cock like he was desperate, starving for him, taking him deep and then keeping him there far longer than any human possibly could. Molten pleasure filled Luke from within, quivering through his limbs and rocketing up his cock. He didn’t have the breath to utter a warning, but Malachi didn’t need one.
Luke’s eyes rolled back in his head as he came. Malachi’s throat cinched tight around his pulsing length as he swallowed every drop, only rising when he’d milked Luke dry. He clambered on top of Luke’s boneless body, stripping his own cock in his hand as he straddled his waist. Luke’s hands fell to Malachi’s hairy thighs, stroking absently while his eyes tracked the hypnotizing movement of Malachi’s hand, the blushing tip of his uncut cock, the way his brow twisted with pleasure as he came with a pale hand anchored to Luke’s chest. He painted Luke’s abdomen in long white stripes, fucking into his own grip as he rode through the aftershocks.
Luke chuckled, low and giddy. “I could’ve helped with that.”
Malachi shook his head dismissively. “Nope. This is what I wanted.” He dragged the pad of his thumb through his own spend, smearing it on Luke’s skin and through the trail of hair down the middle of his abdomen. “You look so hot covered in my cum.”
Luke’s face heated. “Come on,” he groused.
“You do .” Malachi lowered himself down to his elbows, curling his hands around the top of Luke’s head. Their bodies pressed together, smearing his cum between them. “So fucking hot.” He kissed him, deep and hungry. “Could just keep you here forever like this. Nothing and nobody but us.”
Luke slid his arms around Malachi, crushing him against him. It was a nice idea, and he pointedly didn’t let himself think about all the serious reasons why it was just a fantasy. Reality didn’t belong here in the quiet, rose-colored bubble he shared with Malachi. “Pretty sure I’d get hungry. Like now.”
Malachi nipped his chin. “Can we order in and pay online? Answer the door in a robe so I can undress you again quickly and suck you off for dessert?”
Luke laughed. “Sounds good to me.”
“Perfect. Where’s my phone?” He moved as though to roll away, but Luke’s arms held him in place.
“In a minute,” he said, guiding Malachi’s grinning mouth to his again. “I’m not done with you yet.”
Reality waited for no one. Luke knew that better than most. He could afford one day off—one blissful day, during which he and Malachi stayed naked for as long as possible. But the following morning, Luke woke to his shrill alarm and dressed for the day. He had to put in the required time at the training yard, and he needed the guild to think all was normal with him. If he disrupted his routine, they would know something was different, and he couldn’t afford for them to look too closely at his comings and goings.
Malachi was dozing in his bed when Luke finished getting ready, a travel mug filled with coffee that tasted like regret. He’d never wanted to go to HQ less than at this moment. Malachi’s black hair spilled like ink on the white canvas of his pillowcase, his long, lean body on display, as the sheet had shifted down to his hips and barely covered his modesty. Laying on his back, the dusting of dark body hair was visible on his chest and down his flat stomach. The sheet did little to hide the bulge of his groin, and Luke swallowed hard, his mouth watering.
“Don’t just stare,” Malachi murmured sleepily.
Luke smiled. “I have to go in to HQ for a while. Duty calls. ”
“Whatever will I do without you?” He cast a hand out, and Luke took it, letting Malachi pull him closer.
He chuckled. “Dream of me, I guess.”
“Mm, but dreams pale in comparison to the real thing. I’ve had you, and now I can never go back.”
Luke flushed. Normal people just didn’t talk like that.
“Give me a kiss before you go. How long will you be gone?”
“Six hours or so, probably.” He leaned in obligingly, pressing his mouth to Malachi’s.
“Hm. Maybe I’ll run home, then, have a shower and get some clean clothes.”
Something small and tremulous fluttered in Luke’s chest. He was loath for their time to come to an end, and even more reluctant to let Malachi leave. It felt too much like goodbye. “And later?”
Malachi’s crimson eyes blinked open, and he smiled. “Just text me, and I’ll be here in a heartbeat.”
And just like that, the flutter faded, unfurling into warmth and affection. “Okay. That sounds good.” He kissed him again, unable to resist. “Stay as long as you’d like. I’ll see you later.”
Leaving his apartment had never been a hardship. Devoid of personality, it was just a shelter to sleep and shower. It had never really felt like a home before. But now, there was something within it that called him back.
He barely noticed the drive to HQ. Thoughts of Malachi warmed him as surely as the cheerful sun up above. The morning was as bright as his mood, the sky crystal blue. The halfling had burrowed deep inside him and taken root. He couldn’t forget the taste of his skin, the shape of his mouth on Luke’s body. He feared he was changed, fundamentally. He’d let Malachi in, and like a stain, he would never get him back out. The prospect was far less terrifying than he would’ve guessed. He felt complete with Malachi in a way he’d never experienced before. Every touch, every kiss, felt like a permanent brand in his flesh. Malachi’s touch would never rinse off, and he never wanted it to.
Training often quieted his darker thoughts. Maybe it would help this bubbly distraction, too. He needed to act normal here so no one would ask questions, and that meant not smiling like an idiot every time he thought about the red-eyed demon he left slumbering in his bed—a far more challenging feat than he ever would’ve expected.
When he pulled into a parking spot behind HQ’s towering walls, he paused to drain the last of his coffee before he stepped out of the car. A gravel path trailed from the parking lot through the grounds, and the crunch of it under his sneakers was familiar and relaxing. Despite his best efforts to turn his thoughts toward the day ahead, he wondered what Malachi was doing, if he was still asleep. Where did he live? Was he still sleeping in Luke’s bed, or had he gone home already? What did a demon’s home even look like? Maybe he’d get to see it one day.
“Paladin Morgan,” a familiar voice called, and he turned to see Nathan approaching, his expression stormy. The training yard was within sight, the clack of practice swords echoing through the air, but he suddenly had a feeling he wouldn’t be joining them.
“Captain Accardi,” Luke greeted warily. He’d only just set foot on the grounds. Had Nathan been waiting for him to arrive? “What can I do for you?”
Nathan glanced around, ensuring they were alone, and said, “Sloan wants a word. ”
His stomach dropped. He fought to keep his expression blank. “With me? Why?”
Nathan shifted from foot to foot, his mouth pursing. “To be frank, you were spotted with a halfling. Sloan has some questions.”
Adrenaline zinged through his veins, but he relaxed his shoulders. “Oh, that. Yeah, I can explain that. It was nothing.”
Nathan nodded, looking equally relieved. “Oh, good. I believe you. No one is accusing you of anything, as far as I know. Everyone is understandably on edge regarding any interaction with the halflings. He just wants to touch base with you, find out what the halfling wanted.”
Anxiety slithered through him. “Right.”
“He’s waiting in his office now. Best not to keep him waiting.” Nathan clapped him on the arm and turned away, the matter resolved as far as he was concerned. “Come find me when you’re done. I’ve got some hours to log on the training yard.”
“Yes, so do I. I’ll be back soon.”
God, guide me , Luke prayed as he trudged back into the admin building and up the curving staircase to the second floor. He berated himself the whole way. He should’ve known better than to think he could have anything of substance with a halfling. It was absolute madness to even entertain that he could have Malachi and be a paladin.
Sloan’s office door was open like a maw waiting to swallow him up. Luke eased up to it and knocked, schooling his face. Hunched over a stack of paperwork, Sloan looked up and waved Luke in.
“Paladin Morgan, please come in. Have a seat. I’d like a word.” He seemed genial enough, sitting back in his chair the way he always did when Luke came in for something. They weren’t friends—he wasn’t sure Sloan was friends with anyone, really—but he’d always respected the commander, and they had a good working relationship. He hoped that would grant him some credibility now, because he was about to lie right to the man’s face.
“So I hear. What can I do for you?” he asked, sitting as casually as he had during their last meeting. He had nothing to hide, he coached himself. He had nothing to fear.
“Word has it you made a new friend.” Sloan’s gaze was cold as ice, calculating.
“A new friend, sir?” Luke asked.
“A halfling. Long hair. Sleazy-looking.”
Sleazy ? Luke bristled internally.
“Ah, that one,” Luke said. They’d already been spotted together. He just didn’t know how much Sloan knew. “I told you about him, sir. He’s the one who told me about the sagdrannon.”
“And I believe I told you to kill it on sight if you saw it again, didn’t I?”
It . Like Malachi was subhuman.
Sloan went on. “So maybe you can enlighten me as to why someone spotted you having dinner with this halfling at a diner in the thirty-third sector three nights ago?”
“Because he showed up,” Luke said readily, maintaining eye contact. He shook his head, as though bitter at the memory. “I hadn’t seen him again until that night, sir. I stopped at the diner after a hunt. He sat down in the booth across from me and interrupted my dinner. Wanted to be paid for his trouble, can you believe that?” Luke scoffed. “I told him to get lost and left. I couldn’t risk attacking him near the diner. We were the only ones there, and the employees would’ve seen us. Haven’t seen him since.”
“He wanted to be paid for what? Telling you about the sagdrannon?”
“Yep. Guess he thought maybe he could cash in after the fact, become some kind of supernatural confidential informant.”
“Disgusting,” Sloan said, his gaze falling slightly from Luke’s own. It took him a moment to realize he was looking at Luke’s neck. Looking for bite marks? Hickeys? He was glad he’d had the foresight not to let Malachi leave visible marks on him. “I’m glad you told it no. It would be wise to avoid the halflings, I think. I don’t know what their game is, but I doubt it’s a coincidence that one of them tempted Hawk away and now another is repeatedly approaching you. If this is some new tactic they’re using to weaken our ranks, we can’t afford to fall for it.”
“No, sir, of course not.” His gut twisted. That wasn’t what Malachi was doing. Was it? He hadn’t done anything that might compromise Luke’s standing with the guild—not intentionally, anyway. He couldn’t help that someone saw them at the diner. In fact, he’d agreed that they shouldn’t be seen in public together. He’d made a point not to leave marks on Luke’s neck. He seemed perfectly content with what they’d had so far, as though being in Luke’s presence was truly all he wanted.
“Stay away from the halfling, Paladin Morgan. If you see it again, give it no quarter. We have to stand firm in these tumultuous times, and if we must, we’ll make an example out of the next one that tries anything.”
Luke nodded, pushing himself to his feet. “Yes, sir. ”
Sloan dismissed him, and Luke walked in a daze out to the training yard.
Being with Malachi felt so right . Was that the real temptation? Was he being manipulated into feeling things that couldn’t be possible? For one shining moment, he’d been happy with Malachi. Whole. But what life could a paladin have with a demon? They could never go out in public together. Luke’s own people would condemn them if they were discovered. They would think Luke a traitor—or a victim. He wasn’t sure which was worse. Whether Malachi was genuine or playing Luke for a fool—which he couldn’t truly bring himself to believe—they couldn’t continue their tryst. It was too dangerous. His stomach twisted at the thought of giving up the way Malachi had made him feel yesterday, but he didn’t have a choice. A paladin and a demon couldn’t have a future. Better to make a clean break now, no matter how painful.
He barely remembered training. He put four hours in on the yard, running laps and doing drills and sparring with Nathan and Nicolas and then Isaac. His muscles ached as he trudged to his car and drove home. There was a pit in his stomach the whole time.
As much as he wanted to keep Malachi for himself, he couldn’t risk it. It wasn’t safe for either of them. Sloan would have Malachi killed and Luke banished for what they’d done in his apartment. It didn’t matter how good Malachi made him feel, how complete and loved—if a demon could love. It wasn’t meant to be. He couldn’t be with a demon. It was wrong.
He had to end things.