Vol. 5 ITRG Volume 5 Chapter 10.2
Bendyke kissed Aeroc’s forehead as if he were holding a loved one close. It was like he was soothing a naive child who was begging for something to be done.
“Don’t act so provocative when you’re so inexperienced as to tremble like this. I can only endure so much, and I don’t want this to be a horrible failure like the last time, so please…….”
How long did this man want to mock and play Aeroc around, pretending to be a gentle lover that’s very unlike him? Aeroc was angry at his own foolishness in relying on the man’s fake gentleness. Anger froze the corners of his hot eyes. What did he mean by a terrible failure like last time? It must mean he’d hurt someone before with that shockingly large penis.
Suddenly, Aeroc realized that Bendyke would have had a variety of partners. That was to be expected. He’d had men and women, alphas and omegas, and now, unable to resist his perverted urges, he was reaching for Aeroc. It wasn’t surprising, and yet he couldn’t stop himself feeling angry. He glared at the filthy bastard, accusations of unspeakable things locked in his eyes, and Bendyke smirked.
“Did you expect to get raped? I’m sorry to disappoint you.”
Aeroc felt very disgusted.
“Get out of my way.”
Aeroc shoved the despicable hypocrite away. He lowered his legs from the table and stood on the floor. His body, so far drained of strength from sexual tension and forced arousal, shook as it struggled to overcome the effects of his rapidly dropping body temperature.
“It’s dangerous.”
A strong arm supported Aeroc. But that only stripped him of his humane dignity.
“Let go.”
In a show of blatant hostility, Aeroc jerked the arm away, causing himself to lose his balance and nearly topple over the table. Instead of flailing, he used every ounce of mental strength he had to right himself. It didn’t matter that he was only wearing a piece of shirt. No matter how shameful he looked, he was still more virtuous than that savage devil.
“Can you walk?”
“Don’t touch my body.”
Aeroc snapped, and the outstretched hand stopped. He steadied himself and picked up his pants from the floor. He clenched his jaw and tried not to say anything more, but the curses finally escaped his mouth.
“You shit son of a bitch. Just go to hell already.”
It was the foulest thing he’d ever said in his life, and it was Bendyke’s turn to be surprised by the unusual words coming out of him. While his flustered opponent hesitated, Aeroc grabbed his clothes and fled to another bathroom.
Aeroc slammed the door shut and tears out of anger dropped. He rubbed his cheek with a trembling hand.
“Damn it.”
He felt miserable and angry, shedding tears for a lowlife like Bendyke. He turned on the faucet and washed his face with cold water. He grabbed a towel and roughly wiped his sweaty body. His fingertips trembled as he pulled on his rumpled clothes. The buttons kept slipping off his hands.
“Damned buttons.”
The curse words kept coming. Aeroc took several deep breaths, trying to regain his composure. He’d been shaking with excitement a moment ago, and now his body was suddenly cold and his skull was pounding like it was going to crack. His vision was dizzying. He’d forgotten to take his shoes, so he was barefoot, but at least he was dressed properly in a shirt and pants. Aeroc ran his fingers through his dishevelled hair a few times, then took another deep breath. The heat in his face cooled a little, and the corners of his eyes dried quickly.
He looked at himself in the bathroom mirror. His lips were slightly puffy and the corners of his eyes were pale pink, but overall, Aeroc looked composed. If he was dressed to perfection, he would look as if it was just after an emotional performance. He felt a mix of impressed and shame, sinking to an equal level. A faint sneer tugged at the corners of his mouth. In the mirror, he saw nothing wrong with himself. He had never been so grateful for his father’s harsh lessons as he was today. It was time to shoo away the unwelcome guest. With his head held high, he stepped out of the bathroom.
While Aeroc was composing himself in the bathroom, Bendyke seemed to have calmed his excitement. The man had his shirt pulled on and his pants straightened. With his back turned, he hadn’t noticed Aeroc’s presence and was digging through his jacket pockets. His fingertips trembled like those of a terminally ill patient as he flipped open the outer pocket and then shook out the inner one. When he finally found what he was looking for, he grabbed something and went to the table.
Swish.
Pouring himself a cup of cooled tea, he unscrewed the lid of the object in his hand. Aeroc couldn’t see it clearly, but it looked like a medicine bottle. After popping the content into his mouth, Bendyke drank the rest of the tea, then put his hands on the table and breathed deeply. After a few moments, he lifted one hand to gauge whether his own hand was shaking or not. His complexion was as pale as a blank sheet of paper as he clenched and unclenched and repeated.
“What is that medicine?”
Aeroc asked, and Bendyke looked surprised. Spotting Aeroc, he slipped the hand holding the bottle into his pants pocket. His casual demeanour was even more suspicious.
“Are you feeling better now?”
“I asked what did you just take?”
“Headache medicine.”
The corner of Bendyke’s mouth twitched up as he regained his cockiness. Somehow, he looked like he was about to laugh. But there was a trace of sweat on his forehead and a slight twitch in the muscles of his face that looked forced. There was no trace of anger. Instead, he showed a glimmer of pain.
“What, now that we’ve had our bodies mixed, you want to know about my private life?”
“You keep treating me like a child, but I’m pretty sure that is something bad.”
“Well.”
Bendyke shrugged, looking unimpressed. That bottle definitely contained something else.
“Hmm. You must be drinking some kind of mind-eating opium tincture, judging by your crazy dream stories and weird behavior.”
Aeroc hadn’t considered the inhuman but brilliant financial manager to be an opium addict. The only potion that came to mind was a secretive concoction befitting a vile demon. Cases of individuals ruining their lives by becoming addicted to opium as a painkiller were silently spreading. However, within Aeroc’s social circle, there were no opium users, at least not so far. As if hitting the bullseye, Bendyke chuckled softly.
“Not quite opium tincture, but close.”
He pulled the bottle from his pocket, squeezed it slightly between his index finger and thumb, and waved it in front of him. Before Aeroc could take a closer look, it disappeared back into his pocket. Aeroc was never going to get a proper conversation going with this pathetic man.
“The calming effect of this medicine is very eminent, and the usual painkillers aren’t working lately.”
“If you’re taking painkillers so strong they rival opium, you should stop working and get well.”
It wasn’t that Aeroc was worried about Kloff Bendyke. He would have said the same thing if a passing enemy of his father had fallen ill. Of course, his father left no resentment beyond the demanding dignity and immense wealth. A physiological aversion to drugs was frowned upon. Bendyke acted as if it was no big deal.
“I can’t do that right now.”
Stepping closer, he lifted Aeroc’s chin slightly. Aeroc shook off the impudent touch like swatting away a bug. But the madman didn’t seem to mind that.
“A certain Count has been giving me a lot of trouble lately. I can’t endure it unless I take at least some medicine.”
“Whether it’s painkillers or drugs is none of my business, but if you neglect your duties, you’re fired.”
“Don’t worry about it.”
The other man bowed politely, then took Aeroc’s hand and kissed his palm. A secret, romantic way to convey unspoken affection was reduced to a savage mockery if it was done by Kloff Bendyke. Aeroc shook the hand away in disgust.
The other man seemed amused by his blatant display of disgust. It was almost as if he felt relished by it. Maybe the poison had done something to his head. Perverted bastard.
“I’ll see you again at another time, my dear master.”
Aeroc wanted to punch that smirking face in the face. There was no way Aeroc was going to win against this madman with brute strength, not to mention the fact that violence would ruin his reputation as an intellectual. He should have taken up boxing, Aeroc regretted in hindsight. Maybe he should cut back on his violin lessons and start taking fencing lessons instead. Now that Aeroc had witnessed the man drinking a mysterious medicine, he needed to take precautionary measures for self-defence. Moreover, that man had a frighteningly vicious weapon tucked between his crotches.
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