Prince of Tricks

by Jane Kindred

  Belphagor looked down at his cleavage. “Why? Would you like me better this way?”

  Vasily’s eyes widened. “Bozhe moi, nyet.”

  With a laugh, Belphagor went to the bureau and pulled the stopper out of the elixir meant to restore him to himself. “Here goes nothing.” He threw it back like a shot of vodka, gratified to see his own tattooed hand as he set the vial down, then smoothed the dress over nonexistent cleavage and turned to Vasily with a raised eyebrow. “Better?”

  “Infinitely.”

  “Khorosho.” He grabbed Vasily by the locks. “So why the hell are you not on your knees?” Belphagor twisted his grip and took him down, relishing the feel of his own musculature. He stepped behind Vasily and crouched, one fist still in his hair and the other hand sliding over Vasily’s chest and abs toward his crotch. “Let me explain something to you, malchik,” he murmured at his ear. “Moi malchik. Malchik milochki.” My boy. Sweet boy. He let his tongue linger over the syllables.

  Vasily shivered.

  “I have never in all my years had someone I couldn’t face life without. Until you. So despite those years, despite my experience with any number of methods of physical congress and mutual power play, despite the fact that I can seduce a man with a look and bring any man to his knees with a single motion, I am a complete novice when it comes to being in love.”

  Vasily’s shoulders shook, and Belphagor knew him enough to know that he was silently weeping.

  “Don’t cry, sweet boy,” he whispered. “Of course I love you. Ya tebya lyublyu.” He leaned over Vasily’s shoulder and stroked his hand down the still hesitant erection. “I’m sorry I couldn’t say it before. To be honest, it frightened me—frightens me still, a bit. And for my fear and my failing, there will be a severe penalty.” The hesitancy was gone, and Vasily’s ample cock rose hard against Belphagor’s palm. “Ah, that’s my malchik.” Belphagor let go of Vasily’s hair and pressed his lips to the warm neck, running his hand down the front of Vasily’s shirt and releasing the buttons as his other hand stroked the hard shaft through his pants.

  Freeing the last button, he slipped the shirt from Vasily’s shoulders. “I’ve treated you so poorly, in fact, even failing to recognize that I’d hurt you, that it may take me a day or two to administer all the correction necessary.”

  Vasily let out a soft groan of anticipation while Belphagor slipped his belt from its buckle and unbuttoned Vasily’s fly, letting the gorgeous cock spring free of restraint. He caressed it, running his thumb around the rim and over the slit, making the hot firespirit breath escape Vasily faster. While Vasily knelt, waiting, Belphagor discarded his feminine undergarments, double-checking that all his parts were his own—and that none of them were bleeding—and came around to the front.

  He lifted his skirt. “Open your mouth.”

  Vasily looked up, the heat of his element beginning to spark in his eyes. God, Belphagor loved that moment, seeing the undeniable evidence that his boy desired him, while at the same instant, the young demon’s defiance kindled as if his cock’s enthusiasm were a betrayal that incensed him.

  “You’re going to keep that dress on?”

  Belphagor had to struggle to keep a straight face at this unexpected question. “You have a problem sucking the cock of a demon in a dress?”

  Vasily shrugged. “Nyet, ser.”

  “Good boy.” He nodded with approval at the address and grabbed the hair at Vasily’s forehead. “Then shut up and open your mouth so I can stick my cock in it.”

  The flame in Vasily’s eyes fully erupted at the asperity, and he sneered. “How can I shut up and open my mouth?”

  Belphagor yanked his head back. “You figure it out.” He pressed his cock roughly at Vasily’s mouth and forced himself in, making the fury dance in the flaming eyes. Despite his resistance, Vasily closed his lips around him and took him in deep without effort, keeping his eyes on Belphagor to let him know he was still angry, even if he couldn’t resist reveling in the pleasure of sucking his cock.

  There was something especially thrilling about watching it disappear into Vasily’s mouth over the hem of a lady’s dress. There were erotic possibilities to cross-dressing he’d never considered, as it wasn’t a particular predilection of his. Not only was it a defiant act in its own right, it added an unexpected element of dominance. His long-ago Russian lover had surprised him by posing as a woman whose advances Belphagor had tried to evade, until he’d accosted Belphagor in a coat closet and revealed his hidden erection. It had been the best fuck of Belphagor’s life. Until he’d met Vasily.

  Vasily had closed his eyes, humming with enjoyment around Belphagor’s cock as though he’d forgotten he was being punished. Belphagor withdrew abruptly, and Vasily’s eyes opened, indignant for an instant until he saw the expression in Belphagor’s. His parted lips glistened with moisture.

  Belphagor nibbled on the corner of his own lip, torn between wanting to give Vasily a thorough chastisement and badly wanting to fuck him. He supposed there would be time for all sorts of chastisement. His boy wasn’t going anywhere.

  Belphagor hopped onto the bed with his legs crossed at the ankles, his cock exposed where the crinoline caught on it and his hands clasped behind his head as he leaned against the headboard. “The oil is on the bureau,” he said in a bored tone.

  Vasily’s eyes narrowed at the assumption he’d obey even without a command, but he rose and collected it anyway. Belphagor flicked his eyes toward his cock, and Vasily stood stock-still for several seconds, his chest rising with indignant breath, before blowing the warm air out, uncorking the bottle of almond oil and baptizing the erection liberally. He slammed the bottle down on the nightstand and waited for further instruction in a most unsubmissive manner, his own erection practically dominating the room.

  “Drop your pants.”

  Vasily jerked the jeans over his thighs and started to pull his boot through one leg, but Belphagor stopped him. “I didn’t tell you to take them off. Up on the bed.”

  Steam practically escaped with the firespirit’s sigh. “You want me to leave them around my ankles?”

  “Did I tell you to speak, boy?”

  Vasily glared. “Nyet, ser.” He climbed awkwardly onto the bed, clearly furious at the hindrance of the fabric around his boots.

  Belphagor had to silently count to ten to keep from gathering the beautiful, angry demon in his arms. “Well?” he snapped. “I’m sure you know where you belong in this scenario.”

  The glow of elemental fire in his eyes was at full flame as Vasily crawled forward and straddled Belphagor’s hips, swearing under his breath as he tried to maneuver, at last having to lean forward on hands and knees to sit back on Belphagor’s waiting cock. He’d dribbled so much oil over it that he slid down with an unceremonious grunt of surprise, and his cheeks went red. Notably, his own erection didn’t waver. Belphagor lifted an eyebrow as Vasily waited, apparently, for him to do the work.

  “Are you just going to lie there?” Vasily exclaimed, his rough voice nearly squeaking with astonishment.

  “You know, Vasya, every time you speak out of turn, I make a mental note of it. The list of things for which you’ll need future correction is growing quite long.”

  His entire face red with anger and humiliation, Vasily dug his fingers into the bedspread and began to ride up and down the length of Belphagor’s cock.

  Belphagor groaned with pleasure. “That’s a good boy,” he praised as if Vasily were a dog. “A little faster, come on, now. Don’t be so easy on yourself.” As Vasily began to drive himself against Belphagor’s pelvis with furious force, Belphagor tipped the bottle of oil into his palm and slid his hand down Vasily’s neglected cock. Vasily’s own motions drove the slick cock in and out of his grasp, and Vasily began to moan.

  The leather thong slipped from Vasily’s hair, and his locks tumbled over his face, and he let his head hang over Belphagor’s chest, his moaning reaching a fever pitch until at last he jerked back against the base
of Belphagor’s cock, flipped the hair out of his face and let out a low, guttural moan as hot firespirit spunk shot up the front of the dress, against Belphagor’s chest where the empty décolletage exposed him, and splattered the side of his mouth. It was slightly hotter than it ought to be—if he’d been swallowing Vasily, it would have stung, but as it was, it was like a spurt of hot wax that only made him harder with the rush of it.

  Belphagor sat up and pulled Vasily into his lap, licking his lips and giving the hot spunk back to Vasily with a penetrating kiss as he rose onto his knees and fucked him hard, the dress spread magnificently about them. Vasily wrapped his arms around him, moaning softly as Belphagor had his way. The sounds Vasily was making and the kindling scent of his skin undid him, and he turned Vasily’s head to the side to bare his neck, clamped his mouth over the piercing that marked Vasily as his and buried a loud growl of pleasure against his shoulder as he burst inside him.

  When his body relaxed at last, he lay back, and Vasily fell against him, sweating and exhausted and almost purring with pleasure. “Damn, I love you,” Belphagor gasped into the tangle of his locks.

  “Ya lyublyu tebya, tozhe, Beli,” Vasily sighed against his chest. “I love you too.”

  When they’d cleaned up later and Belphagor had changed back into his own clothes, they came out to find a box had been delivered for Beatrix. Bemused, Belphagor untied the string and paper and opened it. To his surprise, the box contained a small fortune in facets of the realm. A note lay atop the sparkling gems bearing the supernal seal. The principality had wished to thank him again and to reward him more formally.

  He shook his head and looked up to see Tabris standing in the entrance to the parlor. Her stance was defeated, and she looked lost. He couldn’t imagine her going on without Ouestucati, at any occupation. “I believe this is for you, sweetheart.” He held the box out to her. “Restitution from the Supernal House of Arkhangel’sk for your loss.”

  Tabris took the box and stared at it, weeping. “I can’t take this. Masha told me what you did for me, and for your boy after I—”

  “It’s yours,” he said firmly. He thanked Masha and Anzhela for their hospitality, put his arm around Vasily, and headed home.

  Shestnadtsataya

  “You know, I still haven’t decided what to do to you for showing up in Heaven and almost spoiling my game.” Belphagor rocked back on the rear legs of the chair, observing Vasily from across the room. He’d put the metal bar back in his eyebrow and changed into less earthly clothing. The black silk shirt with the lace cuffs that Vasily found irresistible on him clearly showed the ring of bruises around his neck.

  “He nearly killed you, didn’t he? Because of me.”

  Belphagor set the front legs of the chair on the ground. “I had things under control, malchik.”

  “Under control? If it weren’t for that angel of yours, he would have killed you.”

  “Stop calling him ‘that angel’ of mine. And as a matter of fact, I stabbed the bastard in the neck with a letter opener and put him out of commission before Phaleg and the principality emerged. I don’t suppose he mentioned that?”

  “And you were unconscious before they got the door open, and they weren’t sure you were breathing for a whole minute. Yes, he told me that. And he’s in love with you.”

  “What?” Belphagor blanched. “He told you that?”

  “He didn’t have to tell me. I could see it. I could hear it.”

  Belphagor looked troubled but not guilty. “Well, it’s one-sided, I promise you. We’ve been intimate. I won’t deny that.” He chewed on the edge of his thumb. “I may have let things get a little out of hand.” Vasily tried not to feel the twist of steel in his gut. “It may sound like bullshit, Vasya, but I got carried away with Phaleg because I missed you. That wasn’t fair to him, and it wasn’t fair to you. All I can say is that I’m an idiot and I’m sorry.” His eyes searched Vasily’s. “Come here. Come close to me.”

  “Is that an order?”

  “It’s a plea, malchik. I need you.” Vasily pushed away from the bureau he rested against and came to stand before him, and Belphagor pulled him onto his lap. “I’m not used to needing anyone. You’ve slain me. You’re Svyatoy Georgiy, and I’m your dragon.”

  “I’m who?”

  “Shut up and let me be your dragon.” Belphagor nuzzled at his neck, and the tightness in Vasily’s stomach faded, as the blood it apparently required to maintain such angst had gone elsewhere. He’d almost forgotten the nagging feeling until someone knocked on the door.

  “Phaleg.” Belphagor stared in dismay when he opened the door. He’d wanted to do this privately with the angel, to thank him for all he’d done and to reassure him he would always have a special place in Belphagor’s memories but to tell him in no uncertain terms that while they’d had a lovely interlude, it had to be over. And maybe to discipline him once more as a parting sentiment—let him know he was still a good boy. He cringed inwardly at the self-indulgent thought.

  “I see you’re back to yourself. It suits you.” Phaleg gave him a sad smile. “I didn’t mean to intrude. I just wanted to make sure you were all right.”

  “Thank you. I wouldn’t be if it weren’t for you.”

  Phaleg shrugged. “I also wanted you to know that Duke Elyon will be hanged in Council Square tomorrow, along with half a dozen members of the upper echelon of the Union of Liberation.” He grimaced. “I didn’t give up the names. Didn’t even know them. So I suppose Elyon must have wanted to take a few angels down with him.”

  Belphagor sighed. “Not surprising. I can’t say I’ll be glad to see a man hanged; even that one. But I doubt the Heavens will miss him.”

  Phaleg nodded and squared his shoulders. “Well…it’s been an honor to know you.” He hesitated, glancing behind Belphagor, and added in a quiet voice, “Good-bye, ser.” He turned to go, but Belphagor stopped him.

  “Phaleg, wait. Please come in. I’d like to speak with you a moment.”

  The angel’s gaze darted toward Vasily behind him once more, but when Belphagor moved aside and held the door open, Phaleg stepped in. He nodded to Vasily, looking intensely uncomfortable. Vasily, in turn, looked as if Belphagor had stabbed him. Belphagor regarded them: one fiery, defiant demon who could take the harshest physical discipline, yet was easily injured with a word, and one proper, tightly controlled angel who could be reduced to the most extreme debasement in an instant, eager to please.

  “Could you wait here a moment? I need to have a word with Vasily in the hall.” He looked at Vasily, silently asking him to just trust him and come, though he feared the firespirit might explode in a rage at any moment.

  Vasily gave him a tight nod and went out, waiting for Belphagor to follow and shut the door. “I’ll go down to the market and get a few things,” he said without looking at Belphagor. “I’m sure we’re out of everything.”

  “Malchik.” He gave Vasily a serious look as he raised his head. “I don’t want you to go anywhere.”

  Vasily’s jaw was set tight. “You obviously need a moment with him. You can’t very well let him walk away with that sad little ‘good-bye, ser’. You owe him something, even though it makes me feel like I’m bleeding inside just to say it.”

  “Malchik.” Belphagor’s sharp tone stopped Vasily’s tongue. He put his hand on Vasily’s cheek. “Do you want to fuck him for me?”

  It took a moment for the words to register, and then Vasily’s eyes widened and he made an odd choking sound in the back of his throat.

  “It would mean a lot to me…to see that gorgeous cock of yours buried in an angel’s ass.” He stroked his thumb over Vasily’s bottom lip while more strangled sounds came out of the firespirit as if he’d lost the capacity for speech. “You don’t have to if you don’t want to. If it’s too much to ask.”

  “N… I…” Vasily blinked at him, and Belphagor could see the bulge of the aforementioned gorgeous cock in his pants, apparently awakened by the mention. “Unh,”
Vasily choked out.

  “Was that an answer in the affirmative? You can nod if it’s easier.”

  Vasily nodded.

  Belphagor’s mouth curved up in a slight smile. “Give me a moment to inform him what’s about to happen to him—and give him a chance to flee.” He winked and stepped back into the room and closed the door.

  Phaleg rose from where he sat on the edge of the stool by the basin stand, his hat in his hand. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have come.”

  “Do you wish to please me?”

  Phaleg paused, looking puzzled. “I’m sorry?”

  “It’s a simple question.”

  The angel’s cheeks flushed with blood. “You know I do. Da, ser.”

  Belphagor approached him and took the hat from his hand, setting it on the stool, and lifted the angel’s chin. “You are without question the best behaved boy who has ever knelt before me. You’ve done all that I’ve asked you and more. You’ve accepted that I’ve toyed with you for my own selfish reasons while I love another, though it causes you sorrow.”

  “Belphagor—”

  Without warning, Belphagor slapped him, and the angel stared, stunned. “You don’t speak when I’m speaking to you, and you do not address me with such familiarity. I’ve hurt you, and not in ways that I intended. You deserve better, and more than I can offer you. But what I can offer is to share my most precious possession with you before we part, to show you how deeply you’ve moved me with your devotion. After today, we’ll return to our worlds, but right now, you can get down on your hands and knees and beg me to let you take the sweetest demon cock in the Heavens up your ass while I watch, and remember it for a lifetime.”

  Phaleg was understandably speechless.

  Belphagor stroked the back of his hand against the angry mark he’d left on the angel’s cheek. “Understand, this isn’t an order,” he said softly. “You don’t have to say yes. I won’t be angry, and you won’t have disappointed me. We can just say our good-byes—”