Laurent and the Beast (Kings of Hell MC 1)

“Forever.”

Laurent licked his lips and gently pushed the vest at Beast, trying to make this as discreet of a scene as possible. “I can’t take it, Beast.” His fingers trembled, and his heart ached, but he would not be a slave, even to love.

Beast’s hands twitched, and the garment fell to the floor. He quickly ducked to pick it up and twisted the fine leather into a messy ball, as if he wanted to make it invisible.

King’s voice came like from another dimension as Laurent watched Beast take a step away from him with an expression that was impossible to read under the scars and letters.

“Figured, he’d be the property of the club, just like the girls.”

Laurent’s eyes went wide, and he exploded with all the pent-up anger. “I am nobody’s property! I live however I choose!”

King broke out into laughter that was weakly echoed before the music suddenly erupted from the speakers with such force Laurent felt physically punched by it.

Beast was even farther away now, briefly meeting Laurent’s gaze, only to push through the crowd and away from him. Laurent had to make amends somehow, yet his heart ached at idea of Beast wanting to trap him. He didn’t need to. Laurent was his out of free will, and he couldn’t allow for that choice to be taken away from him.

He rushed through the crowd toward the door at the back where Beast disappeared. Everything inside of him burned as if he’d swallowed sulphur and was set alight from the inside.

He rushed past two girls who laughed so hard they were practically falling over, but he didn’t really care for their well being right then. He pushed past the door and dove into the bright corridor, which resonated with loud moans coming from behind a door nearby. Beast was nowhere to be seen, but as Laurent wondered what to do next, the door swung behind him, slapping his ass.

“Ow! Watch it!” he hissed, but faced with King, he took a wary step back. The wide smile on King’s face had a sinister quality to it, and when King stepped closer, Laurent backed away until he hit the wall.

“That was a good job. There I was, thinking you turned against me, but I suppose each of us has terms they can’t speak of. That big swig of grief was fucking excellent, I feel five years younger already,” he said, and in the bright light Laurent noticed King’s pupils were so wide they made his eyes appear much darker than they were. He looked like some of the people who took speed at parties. As if he was so high on the energy he couldn’t control himself anymore.

The firm, warm hand grabbed Laurent’s wrist and pulled it to the hard bulge at the front of King’s jeans. The obscene gesture shocked Laurent so deeply he didn’t pull away immediately, eyes locked with King’s, who stroked Laurent’s head with mock-gentleness. “It got me fucking hard, you know. Can’t even imagine how it’s gonna feel when I finally have all of him.”

“All… of him…?” Laurent found it in him to rip his hand away, his mind a sizzling mess of conflicting thoughts.

King sighed, leaning his elbow against the wall and keeping his face so close to Laurent’s it was impossible not to smell the liquor on his breath. There was a vitality to him now. His eyes shone with a victorious gleam when he smiled, intimidating Laurent with his broad shoulders and superior height.

“Yes. The day he becomes 33, the devil will give me all of him. I will be strong like a young man, and this hair”—he pulled on a gray strand and scowled at it—”will likely turn blond again. Fuck, I’m so fed up of being an aging geezer.”

It took Laurent several breathless heartbeats to catch up with what King was saying, but maybe it was because he didn’t really want to accept the truth behind the words? Of course his task for the devil couldn’t have been simple. How had he not anticipated this?

He was numb, yet still forced a smile for King, to not seem like the enemy. “You will have his life, and his wish to move will no longer be a problem,” Laurent said, wanting his statement to be false, yet deep down knowing it was true even before King nodded.

King gave a sharp, drunken laugh and patted Laurent’s cheeks, as if he were making a patronizing gesture toward a child. “Who’d have thought you’re so smart? Don’t you worry, Laurent. I will take good care of you once he’s out of the picture.”

The way King’s thumb pushed at Laurent’s lip made bile rise in his throat. Disgust was so visceral in his body despite King’s handsome features, that there was no other way but to pull away.