Page 153 of Madness & Mercy
Nico smiles faintly. “Understood.”
The guard disappears with Cassian, his footsteps fading down the hall until the silence feels too thick. Then it’s just me and Nico.
God, the way he’s looking at me—like he’s peeling me open with his eyes, weighing every sin and weakness. It’s dangerous, the kind of look that says he’s already decided what I’m worth.
And the worst part? My pulse isn’t only from fear.
He makes me feel things I’ve spent years burying deep, things that have no place here.
That’s what scares me the most.
Nico leans in just enough for his voice to curl around me.
“You alright, cagniolo?”
Fuck…
No, I’m not alright. How can I be in this situation? Alone with him, the weight of everything Cassian said still hanging between us, and the memory of Nico’s earlier words still burning like a brand on my skin. He told me he loved me. And Cassian, that smug bastard, told him I was in love with him too.
Nico’s gaze pins me in place. Dark. Patient. Almost… hungry.
“You’re quiet,” he says softly, the corner of his mouth curving like he’s already two steps ahead of me. “Thinking about what your brother told me?”
I swallow hard, heat crawling up my neck. “That’s not it.”
“No?” He leans back in his chair, all lazy dominance, the picture of someone who knows he’s in control. “Because he told me something interesting.That you love me.”
I shift in my seat. “He doesn’t know what he’s talking about.”
“Hmm.” The toe of his boot nudges mine under the table. Then it slides forward, the leather brushing along my ankle, my calf, until it rests against the inside of my knee. My breath stutters.
“You know,” he murmurs, voice low and dangerous, “when I said I loved you, I imagined you’d say something back. Not hide behind denial.”
“Nico—” I choke on his name, because his boot presses higher, the subtle grind of it sending heat straight to my gut. He doesn’t rush. He’s savoring every inch, making me feel how easily he can reach me without even using his hands.
“Tell me,piccolino.” His voice is a blade, sliding in deep. “Am I really the first person you’ve ever loved? Or are you just scared to admit it to yourself?”
My pulse is pounding so loud I swear he can hear it. The boot presses a little firmer, forcing me to feel every slow drag of leather.
“Say it,”he whispers, eyes locked on mine. “I want to hear you say it.”
“I…”
The words dry out mid-sentence, my tongue useless, my brain short-circuiting.
Nico’s boot drags higher along the inside of my leg, slow as sin, the smooth leather catching on the fabric of my pants. Every subtle press sends a shiver racing down my spine, and I’m suddenly hyperaware of the heat pooling low in my stomach.
“What’s wrong,piccolino?Can’t speak?” he drawls, his eyes locked on mine. He doesn’t need to raise his voice. That quiet, knowing tone is worse—like he’s already peeling me apart with it.
I try to shift back, but the wall traps me, and his boot follows, pressing in just enough to make my breath stutter.
“I like you like this,”he murmurs. “Cornered with nowhere to go. Nowhere to run.”
I grip the edge of the table so hard my knuckles ache.
“Since you won’t say it,” Nico murmurs, his voice a low, dangerous purr, “I’ll give you a choice.” His grip eases, just enough to make me notice how badly I want it back. “Do I punish you upstairs… or right here on the dining room table?”
My pulse slams in my throat. I scoff, though my body betrays me. The thought of him doing exactly that makes my chest tighten and my dick throb. Ihatehow much I want it.
