Page 65 of Iblis' Affliction
Lightning of awareness struck Talha, as Slater ground his hips against his lower abdomen. Focus jumping down, he swallowed. Two thin layers of underwear prevented their private parts from touching, making him feel naked, unprotected.
The iron grip of Slater’s fingers clasped around Talha’s palm, still pressed against the oily chest. The drumming of the reaper’s heart so loud and fierce, that Talha thought it was about to break through the ribcage and leap out into his palm.
Using the moment of confusion, Slater glided the imprisoned limb across his pectoral muscles toward his nipple.
Dumbfounded, Talha gawked at the wet spot soaking through the fabric of Slater’s black trunks that stretched over his length. The lewd hips quivered under his gaze, rubbing the naked skin of his inner thighs against Talha’s flanks as Slater’s ass massaged his cock.
Fuck my life; this motherfucker is already hard.
The first impulse to smash this aroused face with his fists perished as he thought that it was exactly what Slater tried to achieve—to infuriate him, to make him lose control, to force the physical contact that might result in a mad, bloody fuck.
Glimpses of their previous encounter, the ones he thought he’d obliterated from his memory, resurrected in his mind with great detail. He remembered how warm and soft Slater’s insides had been. A male body, Talha knew was never designed to deliver such pleasure, had welcomed his every thrust with a blissful twitch of inner muscles. But, most of all, he remembered, the gaze. A single visible eye glowing with the pure fire of passion no mortal being was capable of. And that passion had been directed at Talha.
The mere memory washed him in heat. Pushing the reaper away, he won some space and, making sure his pupils trapped Slater’s, he commanded in a calm, measured voice, “Get. Off. Me.”
“Not tonight, Master. Slater has been patient. Slater waited. But Slater is getting thirsty. Play with me, Master.” Back arching, Slater guided Talha’s hand over his maculated chest and down to the red, round scar glowing above his left hipbone. When thick, blue veins throbbed beneath his touch, Talha snatched his hand away and wiped the sticky ointment off on the sheet. His adrenaline spiking as his heart joined the rapid pulsations, echoing in his fingers. Slater’s cheek twitched in disappointment, but the lust never drained from his eyes. “It’s getting annoying, Master. Does Slater disgust you this much? That might be a problem…”
Talha didn’t have time to process the question, because Slater added, “Tonight, Master doesn’t have to touch, but Master has to watch.”
Pulling the waistband of his trunks down, Slater revealed the maimed skin of his groin. This shameless action scalded Talha’s face with a pungent heat of arousal and shame, sobering him.
Coming into my bed in the middle of the night; shoving his dick right in my fucking face. And he expects me to do what, suck it? What does he think I am?Never in his life had he expected to find himself in a situation like this, being pinned down by another man. A naked man, who watched him with the withering gaze of a woman. For many days Talha had tried to get used to the idea of touching Slater, fucking him. He could make his peace with a brutal, bloody fuck. At some deep, primeval, and unexplainable level, it felt innate. Like pristine, animalistic domination among the strongest, where the final accord was a sexual submission of one to another. With the right mindset, he was sure he could do it again. But with a cock swaying in front of his face, he felt like a molested girl in an overcrowded train.
“You have some nerve…” Talha groaned. Getting mentally ready for a fight, he peered up. Slater’s jaw bulged with tension; the slit of his mouth so sharp, that his lips lost their color. Desire, mixing with uncertainty, settled in the void of his dilated pupils as his expression begged for something.
The human emotion in the murderer’s eyes was fresh. Now, gazing at Talha with a mixture of a question, doubt, and craving, he looked young, almost vulnerable, as if he waited for appreciation or any kind of acceptance. Talha wavered, finding it weirdly appealing.If Slater wasn’t this pushy, he would even be cute.
Under his inquisitive gaze, the younger man swallowed; the apple of his throat jumped, drawing Talha’s attention to his protruding collarbones, stained with old burns. Lifting his ass from Talha’s hips, Slater fixed the waistband of his trunks below his balls. His cock slapped against his lower abdomen, painting it with slick. The tight foreskin was stretched back against his length, revealing the glossy head; its dark, red color screaming of Slater’s desperation. Spitting in his palm, Slater pressed two wet fingers beneath the cockhead and drew a small circle around the frenulum. Every muscle on his body strained as small tremors rushed down his limbs. His eyelids hooded; he bit his bottom lip watching Talha from under long lashes.
Time died, as Talha stared into the galvanic blue of his gaze. The throbbing in his veins strengthened, as every flex of Slater’s body promised him deprived, intense pleasure.
Slater’s balls tightened, and Talha’s vision zoomed to the hairless skin of his groin. If not for the scars, it would look smooth, tender. Saliva flooded his mouth, and even his vision resonated in beat with his building arousal.
I didn’t even hit him, yet I’m already hard… Why? Why do I react to him?
No man had ever attracted him. No man had ever looked at him this way. He couldn’t understand his own reactions and that confused him even more. Talha scowled, not ready to admit that another man attracted him on this level.No way I’m going to play this game.
“Cool down, Spotty. You’re about as alluring as a beaten-up dog.” Hiding his arousal behind scornful words was easier than admitting that he craved to push Slater down and fuck him senseless. “Come once you are healed.”
He tried to sit up, but Slater’s fingers clawed at his chest. Digging into the bandaged wound, they drew a painful hiss out of his mouth. Red bloomed under the murderer’s touch.
“Master stays-s-s.” It wasn’t an order, but an ultimatum said in a breathless, heated voice, and then there was a moan. Strained, drawn out, vibrating. “Mhhh…”
Talha slapped the cruel fingers away from his hurting chest. “You are forgetting your place. I’m not here to please you, Mutt.”
Talha didn’t know where the word came from, but the insult came out naturally.
Slater didn’t seem to listen; the hard line of his mouth softened as he released the compressed air out of his chest. Lips parted, glistening with saliva, and Talha swallowed his words, staring at the glossy inner surface of his mouth. Its softness called for him, and Talha wondered how it would feel around his length.
That didn’t make sense. Even if his gender wasn’t a problem, he opposed everything that Talha found appealing. Rough, pushy, dominant, disrespectful, fickle, immoral, and childish. He was everything Talha couldn’t stand in people, yet, watching him masturbate and scratch his itchy body simultaneously he couldn’t help finding him cute and weirdly erotic.
Not for the first time, his morality, traditions, and upbringing screamed for him to reach for his gun and put a bullet between Slater’s eyes, but a paralyzing heat, flooding his core, robbed him of the ability to move. Fighting his betraying body, Talha dropped his gaze.
I’m so fucked…He thought, fixating his mind on his white-knuckled fist that crumpled the bedsheets.How can I want him? This is ridiculous…
“Are you disgusted, Master?” Dark, hoarse notes in Slater’s voice hauled Talha’s attention to the reaper. Slater’s stomach tightened, accenting every indentation of his toned muscles, as heavy crimson flushed his face, intensifying the dark color of his lips. “That’s okay, too. As long as you watch, Slater doesn’t mind. Watch, Master, watch.”
How can this be okay? This is so fucking wrong… How can you want to have sex with someone who you think is disgusted by you?
