Iblis’ Affliction Read online

  Lust spiked Slater’s blood, splashing red desire all over his vision. Relaxing against his seat, he licked his lips. Talha’s rough skin allured him to lean closer and moisten it with his tongue.

  At the hazy edge of his vision, Zaal’s face contorted in disgust, the conflict of interests twisting his features in an unreadable grimace. Slater didn’t care.

  The air scraped his throat with every shaky breath; precum leaked over his fingers, marring his jeans. The uncomfortable atmosphere thickened as emotions streamed through the air. Disgust, hatred, contempt, discomfort, ignorance—all had colors and scents that crawled under Slater’s skin, igniting his depravity. His soul burned with all-consuming arousal. Slater craved Talha to look, and Talha did.

  A surprised glance held and lingered. The rough mouth curled up in a lopsided smirk as a long, index finger brushed over the chapped lips, betraying Talha’s building arousal. Slater shivered under his cannibalistic stare.

  “Need help?” Talha murmured. The cloud of discomfort emitting from Zaal darkened.

  Slamming his laptop closed, Talha put it aside and removed the table. The papers scattered over the floor. His foot slid up the denim fabric toward Slater’s groin. Pressing down, it scratched the skin on the back of Slater’s hands and terminated the stimulation. Not gentle, not caring, but rough, authoritative, merciless. Pressure crushed Slater’s cock and balls, making him shudder.

  “Hurts…” The weak complaint only made Talha’s lips twitch.

  “Hands.” The husky voice seeping into Slater’s soul demanded obedience.

  Instantly dropping his hands, Slater welcomed the direct skin to sole contact. His lungs burned from oxygen deprivation, forcing his nails to scratch a long trail under his t-shirt to alleviate the pressure in his chest and gain more pain. Up and down, the rough underside of the shoe rubbed his cock, the cruel heel meeting his balls with every thrust.

  “You’re such a horny dog, aren’t you?” Talha observed.

  Slater whimpered and closed his eyes, concentrating on the burning sensation growing in his lower belly. His thighs shook following the jerky rhythm of Talha’s foot as the cleansing pain burned every thought out of his head, leaving only lust behind.

  “What should I do with you?”

  Holding his breath, Slater listened to the voice of his master. The voice that had guided him through so much pain and pleasure; the voice that knew what he needed better than anyone else. More. Rougher. Harder. This wasn’t enough; chasing his pleasure, he thrust his hips forward, imprinting himself into Talha’s shoe. A shudder ran through his body, and a weak, shaky plea escaped his lips, “More, Master.”

  “So demanding…” Talha rustled. At that moment, Slater was ready to do everything for him, if only his master kept pressing, kept rubbing his dick with his foot. His nails dug deeper into his chest as he threw his head back. He growled as the pressure accumulated in his groin and discharged in a vigorous impulse of energy that seized every muscle in his body with a painful spasm.

  “So fast…” Mockery in Talha’s voice slapped his cheeks with the searing heat of humiliation. “On your knees.”

  Face red, Zaal growled and stormed out of the private cabin. For a split second, Slater detested him even more, but Talha’s gaze, brimming with raw hunger, evaporated every thought out of his head.

  Unable to resist the temptation, Slater dropped to his knees on the soft flooring, ogling Master’s groin. The fabric, stretching over, outlined Talha’s thick, long cock that begged to be licked. Looks painful… Willing to relieve the pressure with his mouth, Slater crawled closer, put his palm on Talha’s knee, but the calm voice froze his motor functions with a single ‘no’.

  Slater peered up, confused. Waiting for the order, he held his breath.

  With a quick movement of his chin, Talha pointed to his shoe. “You made it dirty. Clean it.”

  Slater gasped and dropped down, digging his nails into the soft pile of the carpet. Heart drumming in his ears, he whispered, “Yes, Master.”

  SO TROUBLESOME… TALHA THOUGHT, watching Slater’s tongue work. With every passing day, Slater became needier, more demanding. Controlling his demons had been exhausting. It often required a lot of Talha’s time and energy. If he hadn’t been locking Slater in the basement, his business would have been fucked long ago.

  Slater’s lean body, dressed in blue jeans and a simple black t-shirt, moved with every lick. A warm nose brushed against his ankle, and Talha closed his eyes, suppressing the urge to fist Slater’s black hair and guide his head toward his groin. Only the thought that it would be exactly what Slater wanted—to control him, to set his own rules—stopped him.

  So troublesome… He peered down. The lazy licks of Slater’s tongue erased the last drops of cum as he shot up a look full of expectation.

  “You are in pain, Master.” Slater didn’t ask, but stated in a liquid, variable voice; the intonation flowed from high to low and back with every syllable. Getting up from all fours to his knees, he slid his hot hands up Talha’s thighs. “I’ll help.”

  Captivated by the fluid movements of his body, Talha thought that he would never get used to the instant changes in Slater’s behavior. One second—forceful and aggressive—Slater challenged his authority; the next—soft, compliant, obedient—obeying his every order like a loyal dog.

  The warm tongue licked a trail up Talha’s pants, causing all his being to scream ‘yes’, but his lips released a cold, measured, “No.”

  Disappointment clouded Slater’s eyes, but he didn’t retreat. The heat of his breath oozed through the fabric, reaching Talha’s cock, as the rebellious mouth moved up to the zipper.

  “I said enough, Mutt!” Talha stood up, shoving Slater aside with his knee.

  Unable to retain his balance, the younger man whacked against the opposite seat. A predatory grin bared his teeth, bringing forward a blood-thirsty sneer. Talha ignored it. Trying to calm down, he strolled out of the private cabin toward the tail of the plane, then entered the bathroom. His palm slapped the mirror as he bent over the sink and splashed cold water on his face. The drops heating on his skin failed to quench the all-consuming thirst for carnal pleasure that Slater ignited within him.

  I should have beaten the crap out of him sooner. Fucking Mutt, I wonder when he will stop challenging me, if ever...

  The soft click of the door opening kicked Talha out of his thoughts. Instinctively, he faced the noise. His eyes locked with the wicked smile stretching Slater’s full lips. Pressing an index finger to his mouth, his reaper shushed, “Shhh…”

  The lock clicked closed behind his back, and Talha clenched his teeth.

  “Slater,” pressing an order into his tone, he demanded obedience. Usually, the sound of his name settled Slater for a moment, switched on his brain, but this time it did the opposite.

  “Master?” The ripper’s intonation jumped from low to high, informing Talha that this wasn’t enough to keep Slater under control anymore. Not today. “Slater has been good. Slater waited as Master asked. Slater did nothing to disappoint Master. Why Master refuses Slater? Doesn’t Slater deserve to be praised? Or, maybe, Master doesn’t want Slater anymore?”

  Fuck… Dangerous notes seeped into Slater’s voice, as he stepped forward, imprinting himself into Talha’s body. The heat of his chest burned through two layers of clothes, inflaming Talha’s skin, and with the heat came the clean, familiar scent. Cloves and wood, with a sweet, flowery touch that smelled weirdly fascinating on a murderer’s body. Filling his lungs with Slater’s scent, Talha gave in.

  “You are such a disobedient dog…” he sighed. Fingers clasping Slater’s elbow, he shoved the man toward the white marble sink. Palms slapping against a wide mirror above, the ripper grinned, establishing eye contact through the reflection. “Drop it.”

  “Yes, Master...” Impatient fingers yanked the belt off and tossed it on the floor before Slater pushed his pants down.

  Leaning against the opposite wall, Talha let
his eyes wander. The intense moment passed; now he needed Slater to get the edge off, and everything would be under his control again.

  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 SLATER from 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 EDINBURGH consumes the attention of the law machinery. The brutality of the murder suggests that this is yet another victim of the infamous ripper from Anatolia—Iblīs. 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.”

  Talha switched off the TV and smiled at his business partner.

  “I did my part of our agreement,” he said, looking into the warm gray eyes of the silver-headed man. In his sixties, Steven Hale was fit and lean. The straight line of his spine and the broad shoulders screamed of his military background, but his expression was confused, lost; he scouted his surroundings. “Your turn.”

  “Yes, of course, my turn…” the man said, and glanced at his hands, then at the door, but the confusion remained in his eyes. “I’m sorry, what are we playing again?”

  “I’ll take it from here, Daddy.” The ringing voice made Talha face the door. A woman entered the room, and Talha searched his memory. Camilla Hale, the only
daughter.

  With her platinum hair slicked back in a ponytail and the hard stare of her blue eyes on a doll-like face in her thirties, she looked both young and old. Closing a massive mahogany door behind her slender frame, she came up to Steven and placed her palm on his shoulder. “It’s okay; you can go, Daddy. Mr. Demir and I have a lot to talk about.”

  Carefully guiding her father toward the exit, she let him out, then closed the door behind him.

  She faced Talha. Never offering him a seat, she remained standing. He wondered if it was some kind of psychological warfare or urgency. “The conditions have changed, Mr. Demir.”

  Curiosity curled his lips up as he watched the delicate woman move.

  “You see,” she smiled back, but her eyes remained cold, attentive. “Daddy isn’t getting better. Alzheimer’s is a bitch, and right now, I’m taking a risk telling you this. But I believe we can find common ground.”

  She drew closer; the faint smell of camellias washed over Talha. Her white blouse, unbuttoned at the top, revealed a pearl necklace and a simple gold cross. “The Hale family is only this old because we trust in blood. So, now the alliance comes with me.”

  “That wasn’t a part of the deal,” Talha rapped out the measured words.

  “No. But it’s on the table now.” Her confidence suggested that Steven Hale had transferred his empire to his daughter long ago, and Talha now spoke to the true leader of the Hale family. “You see, the older father gets, the more unstable my position in the organization becomes. Being a woman is hard in our world. I work harder than anyone, yet it’s never enough. I constantly have to prove that I’m better than everyone else, or people won’t follow me. To be honest, I’m tired of it. I made a decision: I need a man to represent my power, to support me. Now, I extend the offer, Talha. It’s no longer just a channel; it’s control over the heart of Europe, but it comes with a ring, and you adopt my surname. The Hale family will not stop with me.”