Page 4 of Iblis' Affliction
Slater’s back arched as he hooked the waistband of his jeans with his thumbs and peeled himself out of the second skin of his black trunks, revealing his tanned, sun-kissed butt cheeks covered with bumpy cane scars.
Undoing his own pants, Talha released his aching cock. Red and pumped, it glistened with precum. Licking his lips, he said, “I’m going to enjoy a joint. If you can’t make us both cum before I finish, you will get nothing, but if you succeed, I will reward you here and now.”
A shudder ran down Slater’s muscular back, he bucked his ass against Talha’s groin, then spat on his palm, and reached behind, smearing the spittle over his hole.
Talha’s heart pounded; heat rushed into his head, erasing everything except Slater’s trembling fingers massaging the entrance. The first knuckle of the middle finger dipped into the hole; before Slater plunged two more fingers inside. His body froze, chest fell in a painful exhale, and he whipped his chin to his right shoulder. In and out, he prepared himself for Talha’s cock, granting his master a marvelous view. Deep pink flickered between his fingers with every thrust, making Talha want to drop on his knees and press his mouth to the round globes of Slater’s ass. He was about to reach forward and lend the younger man another finger when Slater withdrew. His palm wound around Talha’s cock and guided him in.
The painful pressure of the tight muscle ring gripped Talha’s erect flesh. Suppressing a flinch, he leisurely pulled a joint out of his chest pocket, stroked a lighter, filling the small cabin with the distinctive smell of weed. He took a draw and stilled, accommodating the acrid smoke in his lungs.
Slater’s hips moved. With every jerk, his buttocks collided with Talha’s hips. His black t-shirt changed color, a deeper hue spreading between his shoulder blades and under his arms. Perspiration covered his neck and temples, and the sounds of his heavy breathing filled the air. Slater reached down to grab his own dick, but the weed kicking in Talha’s head, pushed an order out of his mouth. “No hands. Cum like this.”
The mirror linked their gazes, and Talha swallowed. The beautiful color of arousal splashed over Slater’s angular cheekbones; lips darkened from constant biting. The way he inclined his head back, revealed his protruding Adam’s apple, making Talha want to taste it.
“I’ll help you.” Talha blew out a cloud of smoke, before sucking in another draw. His free hand clasped the ripper’s throat and squeezed. The vibration, coming from another body, unsettled his every cell as he threw himself forward, welcoming it. Chest to back, he twisted Slater’s head to the side and smashed their mouths together. The acrid smoke transferred from throat to throat as Talha crushed the joint against the top of Slater’s right hand, creating a fresh burn among the many old, whitened, round scars.
“DO YOU UNDERSTAND?”Standing in the middle of the crowded airport, Talha stared Slater in the eye. Even after taking a shower and sleeping for an hour, Slater looked flustered, worked-up. He shifted and the warmth radiating from his body hit Talha’s skin with the faint smell of body wash.
“Yes, Master.”
“No one else, just him,” Talha repeated, making sure Slater understood.
“Yes, Master.”
“Once you’re done, you catch a return flight to Istanbul. You talk to no one, you go straight home without stopping anywhere, and you wait for me there. If you’re good, I’ll reward you,” staring into the icy-blue eyes, Talha instructed articulating every word to make sure the order stayed with Slater. “But if you’re bad, you’ll never have freedom again, understand?”
“Why Master doesn’t go with Slater to Edinburgh?” Slater cocked his head to the side. His fingers grasped the middle button of Talha’s shirt and tugged.
“I have important things to do in London.”
“Why can’t Slater go to London? Slater wants to be with Master.” Slater’s glare was hard, questioning, as he inched forward, his breath playing over Talha’s lips.
“I have no time to deal with you, and you proved that you can’t behave for even four hours.”
A deep crease cut between Slater’s brows. His ears twitched with tension that seized his facial muscles. Before Slater could protest again, Talha added, “Can I trust you, Slater? Or should I send you home with Zaal and assign this job to someone else?”
“No, Master.” All the hatred in the world boiled in Slater’s voice. His hand withdrew as his eyes found Zaal. Talha thought that if a glare could kill, his bodyguard would be long dead. “Slater will do it. Master will be pleased.”
“Good boy,” Talha said, catching Slater’s cold gaze and his hand. “I’m going to give you something in advance. If you are good, I promise, I will make sure you are satisfied.”
His thumb found the fresh bandage on the top of Slater’s hand, then pressed. Slater hissed; his lips drew up in an animalistic grin. His eyes shut in an attempt to contain the pain that trembled in every muscle.
“Will you be good, Slater? Can I trust you?”
A soft smile of satisfaction touched the edges of his mouth. “Yes, Master.”
“Here is your ticket and some cash.” Releasing his hand, Talha fished an envelope out of the inner pocket of his jacket. “Only him, Slater. No one else.”
With a quick nod, Slater took the envelope, spun on his heels, and strolled toward the departure gates.
OILY, BLACK EYES STARED AT SLATERfrom below, as the colorless lips froze in a silent ‘O’, chasing for air. Limbs contracting, trying to regain control over the cut muscles, the man wobbled with his whole body, creating ripples that rushed from his lower belly up to his second chin. And with every twitch of his abdomen, his fat mole trembled above his nearly non-existent upper lip.
Slater’s fingers curled with painful urgency he couldn’t understand. He tilted his head left, then right, his shoulders tensing as he searched for the reason for his discomfort. Usually, a murder brought him delight. The smell of fear and panic so dense in the air, he should be high with it, but something about this man made him itchy. Spinning the karambit around his index finger, Slater bent forward, examining the terror-stricken face. Beady eyes, small nose, and thin lips. Nothing special, then why did this man annoy him this much? Oily skin with huge pores, rare black facial hair, and a fat, ugly mole. Trembling and vibrating, the mole captivated him, making his chest buzz with irritation. Unable to tear his focus away from it, he said, “You are so ugly... I can’t kill you like this. Let me fix it for you.”
The edge of the knife touched the base of the mole, slid under, and sliced it off. Slater shook the black piece of flesh off the blade with disgust, then looked the man in the eye.
“See? So much better! Now we can proceed.” A smile of relief released the tension, as Slater put the knife over the man’s belly, drove the karambit in his solar plexus, then tore down.
“ANOTHER MURDER IN EDINBURGHconsumes the attention of the law machinery. The brutality of the murder suggests that this is yet another victim of the infamous ripper from Anatolia—Iblis. A few hours ago, Boris Alby was found dead in his house in Ravelston. Pieces of his disfigured body were scattered throughout the house along with a large amount of disturbing child pornography.”
