Talha itched to reach out and wipe the bloody saliva off the corner of Slater’s mouth but refrained. Slater didn’t need care and affection. He needed a firm, brutal hand to guide him through pain and life.
A tepid tongue, painting a wet trail up his length, brought Talha’s attention to the sinful mouth that stretched in a wicked smile. In the next instance, the tight ring of Slater’s lips fastened around the barely visible circumcision scar, and a painful suction made Talha grind his teeth.
Not willing to play yet another one of Slater’s games, he raised his palm to hit him, but the cruel mouth had already released its deadly grip and was now soothing the pain with long, soft kisses. Slowly, gently, then hard and passionate, lick by lick Slater’s galvanizing caresses electrified Talha’s body, until every nerve buzzed and trembled with electricity seeking discharge. Unable to control his urges, Talha fastened both hands on the back of Slater’s head and thrust himself deeper into the twitching throat.
Slater’s shoulders heaved as he gulped saliva down with his eyes squeezed shut. Short, fast spasms jolted through his frame, threatening to turn into vomiting, but instead of pulling back, he pressed forward, welcoming Talha’s orgasm with a few swallows.
The room blurred before Talha’s eyes. The surroundings shattered, swayed, and he gripped Slater’s shoulder to maintain his balance. Holding himself in the heat of Slater’s mouth for another moment, he withdrew. His heart leaped into his throat.
Slater’s almost black lips parted, glistening with saliva and cum, that trickled down his chin. Long, clumped lashes trembled, and every time he blinked, clear drops escaped his eyes and painted lines down unshaven cheeks.
Examining the face, colored with fists and arousal, Talha wondered how he tasted without being poisoned with the acrid smoke of weed or force-fed wine.
“Swallow,” he ordered, and Slater instantly obliged.
Unable to resist a pull as strong as gravity, Talha leaned forward, wiped the excessive moisture off Slater’s bristled chin with the back of his hand, before crashing their mouths together. His palm outlined Slater’s face, then clasped the back of his head. His demanding tongue slipped into the mouth, tasted the pungent mix of cum and blood.
Blue eyes shot open, and Talha squeezed his own, wondering if he’d just signed his death warrant. To his surprise, Slater didn’t pull away but leaned in, allowing the kiss to deepen. Not wanting to think, Talha let himself drown in the sweetness of Slater’s mouth. Savoring the rare moment, he enjoyed the slow, lazy responses of Slater’s tongue and shaky, uncertain breathing reverberating against his own throat.
Head swirling with oxygen deprivation, Talha drew back, then froze watching the metamorphosis on Slater’s face. The haze of arousal evaporated from the icy-blue eyes, substituted by a devilish glow.
Fuck…
“What was that, Master?” The inquisitive note in Slater’s jittery voice kicked Talha out of his heightened state, and before his reaper said something else, something unforgivable, Talha back-handed him, sending him back to the floor.
“Shut up.” Shaking the mist of euphoria, Talha pronounced every word as clear as he could while zipping his pants. “Tonight, you will only talk when you are spoken to. Understand?”
The reaper didn’t reply, so Talha said, “I’m going to ask again, Slater. Did you go to London that night?”
Slater peered up, but instantly dropped his chin, hiding his eyes behind long lashes. Squatting by his side, Talha fisted his hair, forcing eye contact.
“Answer me.”
Full lips pressed together before stretching in a razor-sharp smile. “Yes.”
“Why did you disobey me? Did someone tell you to come back?”
“No one told Slater.”
The question ‘Did you betray me?’ burned Talha’s tongue, but he swallowed it. No, Slater wouldn't… There’s nothing in the world anyone could offer to win his loyalty. Unable to find the reason for disobedience, he asked, “Why?”
“Because Slater wanted to.” The dry words washed Talha in the coppery smell of blood.
“Is that so…” Taking a deep breath, Talha straightened up and cracked his finger joints. “Then I shall punish you so you don’t repeat this mistake ever again.”
Pulling back, he crashed his fist down onto the handsome face of his assassin.
LYING ON HIS SIDE, Slater’s body shook, as poignant sensation flowed through his veins, making him high. The power his master emitted messed with his mind. He lifted his upper body wanting to see the liquid amber of Talha’s eyes, but another slap whipped his head to the side, infusing a new dose of metallic taste into his mouth.
“I didn’t say you could look up, did I?” The measured voice sent a shiver down Slater’s body.
“Master...”
“Shut up.”
Out of the corner of his eye, Slater saw a flicker of leather glinting under the soft light. Acute pain bloomed under his ribs as Talha’s shoe connected with his chest. Air left his lungs, folding him into a fetal position. Forearms pressed to the soft carpet, he clung to his shattered vision, attempting to stop it from failing.
“Speak only if I tell you to.”
Gasping for air, Slater grabbed Talha’s ankle with both hands, postponing the next strike. Breathing in and out, he tried to contain the pulsing pain in his ribs that slowly transferred to his pounding head. He scooted up wanting to get onto his knees, but a ringing blow to the middle of his back from above sent him to the floor. His cheek kissed the soft texture of the red and white carpet.
“I’ll stop when you tell me the truth.” The voice sank deep into his consciousness, demanded he answer. “Why did you go to London instead of returning to Istanbul, as I ordered?”
Licking his bloody lips, Slater smiled, then linked his eyes with the dilated pupils of his master.
Master is so beautiful, so cold. The heavy clouds of power Talha emitted, cocooned him, making Slater feel warm, protected, safe, so he confessed. “I wanted to see Master…”
“Why?” Talha pressed.
“I missed Master.” Slater brushed his cheek against Talha’s shin. Leaning toward his foot, he kissed his black shoe.
“Is that so…” Something odd lurked behind Master’s voice, something that clenched Slater’s stomach and stopped his heartbeat. Concentrating, he replayed the intonation in his head, but the meaning eluded him.
Is Master mad? Digging his fingernails into the carpet pile, Slater strained his ears and tried to remember the last time Talha was angry to compare the emotion but couldn’t. It’d been a while since Master raised his voice. Lately, no matter how hard Slater tried, he never managed to make Talha lose his self-control. That was frustrating. Even the punishments Master delivered had been measured, controlled, cold-blooded. The bruises Master gave him never stayed longer than a few days, often making Slater feel like it wasn’t enough.
“Look up.”
Slater slowly raised his chin, expecting another blow to come any moment. It didn’t.
“Master?” His voice trembled with a deep, primeval need. Slater hoped that Talha would understand and help him. Only Master could hush the pain in his chest and calm him down. And Master did.