Bonus Epilogue
Luke’s face burned despite the fact that there was no one there to witness what he was doing, and a giddy little laugh escaped his lips.
The apartment he now shared with Malachi smelled divine. He’d spent the afternoon cooking while Malachi slumbered. It was a rare occurrence that he managed to sneak out of the bed without waking the halfling, and when he finally did it, he decided to seize the opportunity to plan a little surprise.
Life with Malachi was blissful. The lows didn’t compare at all to the highs. Sure, he and Alex were struggling to get their new private investigation business off the ground, and they were still being followed—harassed, really—by paladins, but it all paled in comparison to how happy he was on a daily basis. Waking up each morning with Malachi was everything he’d ever wanted. Knowing he could have Malachi and still try to do good in the world with Alex was the best of both worlds. He didn’t need to be a paladin. He could be something else and feel just as fulfilled.
When they weren’t working on their day job, they were patrolling, hunting demons like always. Sometimes Malachi or Talon tagged along, but even when they didn’t, Luke was calm. The anxiety that once plagued him when patrolling with a squad wasn’t so bad with Alex alone. Alex was a talented fighter, and he had Talon’s blood in his system, which made him very difficult to kill or even severely injure.
Luke wondered what the guild would do if they knew demon blood was so miraculous. That they could shrug off their injuries each night and wake with absolutely no soreness. Even working out didn’t leave him as sore and drained as it used to. He felt ten years younger, and if Talon was telling the truth, he’d feel this way for eternity, as long as he kept Malachi’s blood in his system.
And now, he was cooking. Half the cake batter had gone into the oven to make cupcakes, and the rest he’d set aside for use later. He’d also made chocolate syrup, three different kinds of frosting, and had a tub of ice cream waiting in the freezer. A can of whipped cream sat on the island beside the bowls of syrup, ready to be used. He’d sampled it a couple of times already.
The frilly apron he wore really capped things off. Malachi had gotten it for him as a joke after he’d mentioned learning to bake, but he’d never worn it before. And now it was all he wore.
He’d never noticed the way the cool air from the air conditioner made a draft in the kitchen. His ass was cold, but it would be worth it when Malachi finally wandered in.
When he’d snuck away, he’d closed the bedroom door in the hope that it would muffle some of the sounds and smells and give him enough time to get everything ready. He was piping frosting onto warm cupcakes when the bedroom door opened to reveal a boxer-clad, bleary-eyed Malachi.
“What do I smell?” he croaked as he shuffled toward the kitchen. He stopped beside the island, staring at all the bowls. “What’s all this?”
“Well, remember when I told you I could learn to bake?”
Malachi had noticed Luke’s lack of clothing. His head tilted, and he leaned over to look at the curve of his bare ass. “Are you naked under that apron?”
“Wow, I should have started you off with coffee.”
Malachi tried to scowl and fight off a smile at the same time, twisting his face in a way that made Luke laugh. “I just woke up!” he protested, snorting. “Coffee sounds good actually.”
Luke smiled patiently, turning to get the coffee out of the cabinet and fill the machine. Malachi made a strangled noise, and he glanced over his shoulder right before Malachi’s hands found his sides, trailing down his waist and tugging on the pink apron ties. They tickled a little, the bow he’d made loose and grazing the top of his rear every time he moved.
“I know I got this as a joke, but you look really pretty in pink, treasure,” Malachi breathed.
Luke’s cock jumped as Malachi’s hands went lower, taking handfuls of his cheeks in both hands and kneading.
“Oh, are you getting with the program now?” Luke murmured, turning his head as Malachi trailed kisses across his shoulder.
“Is that what this is?”
“Why else would I be baking naked?” Luke stage-whispered.
“Treasure, if you do anything naked, I’m gonna be all over you.” His hand tightened in the apron’s ties, pulling Luke back firmly against him. “This what you want? Want me to fuck you in this pretty apron?” He nipped and nuzzled up the side of Luke’s neck, and Luke went boneless, his head falling back in abandon. Sparks exploded under his skin everywhere Malachi touched him.
“The apron was more inconsequential, really. I just didn’t want to drip anything hot on myself,” he said breathlessly.
“Oh no, the apron’s definitely staying on.”
The coffeemaker gurgled in front of him, but Luke barely noticed it. Malachi’s hand slipped under the side of the apron. It was barely wide enough to cover his chest, and Malachi found one of his nipples right away, rolling it between his fingers and rubbing his clothed erection against Luke’s rear.
“H-How are you gonna eat dessert off me if you don’t take the apron off?” he finally managed to ask.
Malachi paused, shifting to look at all the food again. “Oh, is that what this is?”
Luke laughed again. “Coffee, coming right up.” He reached for the cabinet that held the mugs, but Malachi snagged him and whirled them around to face the island instead.
“Nope, forget it, I’m with you now. Bend over.” Malachi didn’t wait, tugging Luke’s hips out and pushing the center of his back until he was bent over with his forearms on the island, already trembling with want.
He felt completely exposed, but Malachi didn’t once stop touching him. One hand skated up his spine, and his hips stayed flush with Luke’s ass, his arousal pressing insistently against Luke’s crack even through his boxers. They had no lube here, but it would take two seconds to fetch it from the bedroom—if they didn’t wind up there anyway.
“Now, what have we got here?” Malachi asked conversationally, picking up the metal pan with the chocolate syrup. He’d kept it warm so it wouldn’t thicken too much.
Luke looked over his shoulder as Malachi tested the temperature with his finger and licked it clean. Then, he used the spoon to swirl the mixture and drizzle it up and down his spine. It was quite warm, almost hot against his otherwise cool skin. He grunted against his forearm, and it turned into a quiet, choked off moan when Malachi let the chocolate trail down his lower back and drip into his crack.
“Where to start?” Malachi muttered to himself, setting the pan aside carelessly. “Or should we add a little more? It looks like you’ve been busy. I had no idea I was such a heavy sleeper.”
He picked up the strawberry next, adding it to Luke’s back, and made some kind of design in whipped cream at the small of his back.
“You’re getting it all over the apron strings,” Luke pointed out.
“I’ll clean it up. It’ll be fine.”
Malachi’s fingers wrapped around his throat, hauling him up so he could get started. Licking, sucking, kissing, teeth scraping across his skin. Malachi’s free hand slipped into his apron again, teasing his nipple as his mouth worked down Luke’s back. When he came up suddenly, turning Luke’s head and stealing in for a kiss, his mouth was smeared with both syrups, and the tongue that pushed into his mouth was coated in chocolate and strawberry. Luke moaned, sucking the taste from his tongue. The syrups on his back smeared against Malachi’s chest as they rocked against each other, and Malachi moaned out a soft lament.
“Fucked up the whipped cream bow I made,” he said, looking down at his boxers, which were now sticky with a vague figure-eight shape.
Luke snorted out a laugh. “It was a bow?”
“Yeah. That’s okay. Worth it.” He pushed Luke back down against the island and dropped to his knees behind him.
Syrup was running down his cheeks and the backs of his thighs now. Malachi took his time, cleaning up one thigh and then the other and doing the same for his bottom, working his way toward his center with careful intent, like he wanted to be sure every inch of him was clean before he got to the grand prize. By the time his sticky fingers parted Luke’s crack, Luke was writhing, his hips working against nothing. The apron grazed the head of his cock, every slight brush just teasing him that much more.
Malachi moaned blissfully as he licked at the heart of him, from his balls all the way up. “Treasure, you’re even sweeter than normal.”
Luke chuckled breathlessly. “Can’t imagine why.”
Malachi took his time with him, eating him out until all traces of syrup were gone, until Luke’s cock was as hard as stone and his sac was tight against his base, until his back was arching and his moans bounced off the walls of their apartment. He ate until Luke’s hole was sloppy and soft, until he could press his tongue or a spit-slick finger inside, massaging his prostate until Luke’s thighs trembled and his cock leaked onto the apron.
When he could stand it no longer, Luke wailed, “Malachi, please, for fuck’s sake!”
Malachi chuckled, sliding a finger smoothly inside him and nipping one cheek with his teeth. “I never said you couldn’t come, treasure.” His other hand reached between Luke’s legs to wrap around his aching length. “Just be aware that if you come now, I’ll almost certainly make you come again before I’m through with you.”
Luke didn’t care. He was mindless with want. Bracing his arms against the island’s marble counter, he rocked his hips, fucking into Malachi’s fist and back on his finger. Desperate whines fell from his mouth, and when he finally came, he howled, his cheek pressed to the cool marble counter as stripes of cum landed on the apron and the floor between his feet.
Malachi murmured praise, kissing any bare skin he could reach. His finger moved, massaging in and out just a bit, and he said, “I love the way your hole gets so tight when you come. Can’t wait to feel it around my cock.”
Luke grunted.
Malachi stood, kissing his shoulder and nudging him a little more onto the counter so he wouldn’t fall over. “Stay just like this. I’ll be right back.”
“Cold,” Luke said.
“Two seconds.”
“Fine.”
He didn’t even bother opening his eyes while he waited, chest and face pressed to the cold marble. He’d crumble to the floor if he moved. Only when he heard Malachi’s returning footsteps did he open his eyes, though he didn’t raise his head.
Strutting into the room sans boxers, Malachi raised the bottle of lube for him to see, smirking eagerly. Luke was still feeling aftershocks from his last orgasm, so this should be fun.
“Now, where was I?” Malachi said as he positioned himself behind Luke once more.
He plucked at the apron strings around Luke’s neck and guided him upright, letting the top half of the apron fall to dangle from his waist. Then he took his time picking out not one but two cupcakes. Luke watched him, half-turned, as he peeled the paper from the bottom of the cupcakes and placed them on the island in front of Luke.
“No sense in letting those go to waste,” he said.
“What are we going to do with those?” Luke asked.
“Oh, you’ll see. Now, chocolate or strawberry?”
“What?”
“Pick a syrup. Which one?”
Luke shrugged. “I don’t care. I did this for you. You pick.”
“Strawberry, I think,” Malachi said, tapping his chin. “Looks like blood.”
“Of course.”
Malachi grinned. “Down you go.” Without warning, he pushed Luke over the counter. The pair of cupcakes smashed against his chest, smearing chocolate frosting and crumbled cake all over his chest. He sputtered out a laugh, trying to raise up on his elbows only to be pushed back down.
“Mal!” he protested. “This is making a huge mess. I didn’t mean for us to get it all over the kitchen.”
“Oh, I’m not done. We’re both going to need a shower after this, trust me.”
“Why, what are you—oh my God!”
Malachi upended the bowl of strawberry syrup over his back. It got everywhere. Spilling down his sides, his shoulders, his arms. It immediately soaked into the apron, dripped down the cabinets. It was lucky Malachi had a non-slip rug there for them to stand on, or else the tile floor would’ve been hazardous to their health.
“Mal!”
“Uh-huh.” At some point, Malachi had slicked his cock with lube, because when it pressed against his softened hole, there was very little resistance. At Luke’s groan, Malachi murmured, “That’s it, baby, nice and easy.”
Luke widened his stance, arching to take Malachi all the way. Having Malachi’s healing blood in his system made each time feel like the first. He felt split open, his body stretching to accept Malachi’s girth.
When Malachi was rooted in deep, he slid his hands up Luke’s sticky back. One hand carded into his hair, turning his head, and the other went to his mouth. Two slippery fingers pressed past his lips, and Luke sucked the sugary syrup from them. It smeared on his cheeks and jaw, matted his hair. Everywhere Malachi touched, he left sticky red handprints behind. His tongue dragged up Luke’s back as he pulled out and thrust back in, rocking Luke’s hips harder against the island.
Strawberry syrup smeared between their bodies. Luke could feel it trickling down his legs, soaking into the carpet of the rug under his toes. He turned his head, angling back for a kiss that tasted sweet. It was sloppy, with Malachi leaving his lips to lick the syrup from his neck and jaw and feed it to him with his tongue. His thrusts were slow and lazy. When one arm wrapped around his front, it smeared in the chocolate frosting and vanilla cake stuck to his chest, which then found its way to Luke’s mouth. He laughed breathlessly as he licked Malachi’s fingers clean, biting them teasingly just to hear Malachi groan.
“You’re so goddamn perfect,” Malachi said, cradling his head.
Heat was building in Luke’s gut, his cock hard once more and hanging heavy and neglected between his legs. He didn’t want to touch himself this time. He wanted to take his time, make this moment last forever.
“I can’t believe you did this. You made so much stuff.”
Luke laughed, meeting his thrusts. “I didn’t know what you liked.”
“You,” Malachi said immediately, teeth scraping syrup off his shoulder. “You’re what I like. You’re what I love. You’re the only goddamn thing in this world that matters to me. You could cover yourself in desserts or—mud or anything, I don’t fucking know, I just know I’ll always want you, no matter what.”
“Malachi,” Luke moaned.
“Come here.” Malachi pulled out of Luke and pulled him upright, turning them so they were face to face with Luke’s back against the fridge. Then he scooped him up into his arms.
Luke wrapped his arms and legs around Malachi as he sank inside once again, pinning Luke against the cold, stainless steel fridge as he found his rhythm once more. Anyone else would struggle to hold Luke like this, but Malachi made it seem effortless. Luke felt small in Malachi’s arms, cradled and protected. He wasn’t a warrior here; he was just Malachi’s.
He sucked down a sharp breath. “I’m gonna come—I’m gonna…”
Malachi grinned sharply. “Good, good.” He ducked his head, sucking crumbled cake and frosting and syrup from Luke’s skin. His cock speared deep inside Luke, hitting him just right, and he screamed at the ceiling as he came, his thighs tightening around Malachi’s slim waist. He bucked, his cum smearing with the syrup between their stomachs.
Malachi buried his face in the curve of his neck, grinding in deep. “Oh yes, that’s it, treasure. You feel so good, oh my good goddamn.” He hissed, gripping Luke’s hips hard as his cock jerked, coating Luke’s insides with his spend.
Sex with Malachi was a religious experience, Luke thought as he stared at the ceiling and tried to catch his breath. Everything tingled and sparkled, like the bubbles in a glass of champagne.
Malachi’s glossy black hair was matted with stickiness, and reality crept back in like an unwanted pest. Being covered in cold, sticky syrup was a lot less fun now that his cock was softening and his body was sated. He had sugar in places sugar was never meant to go.
“Did you get syrup in my ass?” he asked.
Malachi snorted out a laugh. “I don’t know. It’s mostly lube, and even if there is a little syrup, it won’t hurt you.”
“How do you know? Have you ever had syrup in your ass?”
“No, but I know you heal too fast for it to cause any kind of problem.”
That was true, at least.
Malachi grinned, kissing him warmly. “Shower?”
“God yes.”
Malachi peeled Luke off the fridge and carried him to the bathroom, setting him on his feet only so he could turn the water on. While he waited, Luke looked at himself in the mirror and chuckled.
He looked like Carrie at the prom, only instead of pig’s blood, he’d been doused in strawberry syrup. Half a cupcake was still smeared across his chest. His hair stood on end. Smears of frosting and syrup were dashed across his cheeks and jaw. Mouth- and finger-shaped marks speckled the syrup on his neck and shoulders. He could make out teeth marks along his collar, dragged through the syrup and leaving small, clear gouges behind.
“Somehow when I started this, I didn’t expect it to get so messy.”
Malachi looked him up and down with satisfaction. “What can I say? I like marking my territory.”
“You turned up a whole bowl of syrup on me.”
“You’re the one who made so much.”
“I thought we’d…” He gestured vaguely. “Smear it in some strategic places and then lick it off. I didn’t expect to have it all upended on me.”
“Well, joke’s on you. I don’t do things halfway.” Malachi laughed. “Come on, the water’s hot.”
When they were both inside, Malachi guided him under the spray and lavished him with attention, gently scrubbing the sticky residue from his skin with slow, thorough strokes. When he was clean, he did the same for Malachi, lovingly shampooing his hair and then working conditioner through it.
Seeing Malachi wet and slick with soap was an erotic experience all its own. Despite having just had two orgasms, his cock gave an interested jerk at the sight. Malachi’s alabaster skin was smooth and soft, a dichotomy to the hardened, corded muscles underneath. Luke leaned in and slid his arms around Malachi’s neck, kissing him languidly. Interested though his cock might be, he’d need more time to get it up again. Demon blood could do a lot of things, but it couldn’t erase a refractory period entirely.
“I love you,” he murmured as the water cascaded down on them, washing the soap from their skin.
Malachi’s dangerous red eyes softened with fondness. “I’ll never tire of hearing you say that, treasure.”
“Good, because I plan on saying it everyday for a long, long time.” He paused, then added, “I may not do the dessert thing again, though.”
“How about just for special occasions?” Malachi suggested cheekily. “I really enjoyed getting you all sticky.”
Luke smiled. “Mm, I could be persuaded, I guess.”
“And we should take a trip sometime, just the two of us.” Malachi’s fingers trailed through Luke’s chest hair, following the rivulets of water downward.
“What kind of trip?” he asked breathlessly.
Malachi grinned at him. “I’d like to take you all kinds of places, treasure. The beach, the mountains, the desert. Have you ever traveled outside of southern California before?”
“No, I haven’t.” They lived within driving distance of the beach, but he’d never actually been there for the beach itself. He was always on a mission for the guild, unable to stop and enjoy the scenery.
“There’s a whole lot of world out there.”
“And we have an eternity to enjoy it,” Luke agreed, drifting in for a lazy kiss. “Not yet, though. I want to get the business up and running with Alex.”
Malachi sighed. “You’re so good. It wouldn’t kill you to abandon your duties and play hooky with me on the beach for a while, y’know.”
“It wouldn’t kill me, no, but I wouldn’t be the man you loved if I did that.” For better or worse, Luke was what the guild made him to be. He wouldn’t go back on his word. He’d promised Alex they would be equal partners in this new endeavor, and truthfully, he was excited about it. Being a private investigator meant helping real people with real problems. They would be doing more than just patrolling and killing monsters at night—a worthy cause, certainly, but one that isolated them from the rest of the human world. He liked being face to face with strangers who needed help. It made him feel like he was making a real difference.
Malachi heaved a put-upon sigh. “I suppose you’re right.”
“It’s not like we don’t have plenty of time in the future, right? I’d love to travel with you one day. I’ll let you show me the world.” He draped his arms around Malachi’s neck. “We’ll go skinny dipping on the beach. Sleep under the stars in the desert. Cozy up to a fire in the mountains.”
“Sounds wonderful,” Malachi murmured, his eyes slipping shut. “It doesn’t matter where we go, as long as we’re together.”
“Together,” Luke repeated reverently. Yes, that was all he wanted. Everything else was just a bonus.