Page 161 of Madness & Mercy
I grit my teeth, trying to hold my ground, but my damn body betrays me.
Slowly, his boot slides under the table, brushing my leg. A shiver crawls up my spine, heat pooling low. “What… what are you doing?” I manage, my voice tighter than I want it to be.
“Just reminding you who’s in charge,” he murmurs, pressing a little firmer, tracing that maddening line up my thigh. “I asked you a question,piccolino. Are you going to confess… or do I have to drag it out of you?”
I swallow hard, chest tightening. My pulse is pounding in my ears. “I… I—”
“Hmm,” he hums, leaning forward so his gaze locks with mine. “Not so easy, is it? Hearing yourself admit it. Tell me you want me, Julian. That’s therealreason you came looking for me, isn’t it? Say it.”
Heat surges through me. My lips part, ready to tell him off, but my bodyachesfor him, betraying my words before I even speak.
“Say it,”he whispers again, pressing down harder. “Or I won’t stop until I hear it.”
“I want you,”I bite out, my voice rough, torn from somewhere deep.
“That’s it.” His grip knots in my hair, jerking me closer, until I’m trapped against him beneath the table. His words are a dark purr.“Now be a good boy and please your master.”
I reach instinctively for his zipper, and his hand yanks my hair back harder, forcing a gasp from my throat.
“Did I say you could use your hands?”
I clench my jaw, but lean in, snagging the zipper with my teeth and slowly dragging it down.
He shifts, his breath sharp and smug. “No hands,” he orders. “Just use that pretty mouth.”
Heat rips through me, my pulse kicking into overdrive as I lower my hands. My head’s screaming not to give in to this insane bastard, but my body doesn’t give a damn. It’s already burning, already begging for him.
Fuck…
I lean in slowly, lips parting. The heat of him radiates, making my mouth water before I’ve even touched him. I brush my lips against him once, tentatively, like I’m testing the fire. My tongue follows, and his sharp inhale tells me I’ve surprised him—maybe even pleased him.
For a moment, he lets me set the pace. My mouth moves in shallow strokes, careful, unpracticed but desperate. My cheeks hollow as I take in more of him, the taste thick on my tongue, my jaw already aching.
Then his hand clamps down on my hair, yanking me closer until I gag. His laugh is low and dark. He thrusts deeper, rougher, forcing me past the point of comfort. My throat burns, eyes watering, tears slipping down my cheeks as I choke and strain against him. My own body betrays me, heat twisting low, a pulse of want so sharp it’s humiliating.
And then, his boot presses down harder.The sharp pressure grinds against my cock, pinning me in place. My hips jerk helplessly against the sole, the friction brutal, and I can’t stop the muffled sound that slips out of me. My nails dig crescent moons into my thighs as my throat convulses around him, every breath ragged and broken.
“Good boy,” he murmurs above me. “On your knees where you belong.”
A knock at the door makes me jolt, panic flooding me so fast I almost choke outright. My eyes go wide, watering harder, but Nico doesn’t release me.
He smirks, all calm control while I’m suffocating on him.“Come in,”he calls, at the same exact moment he shoves me down, burying himself deep in my throat.
My lungs seize. My throat stretches, raw, fire licking all the way down. I grip his thighs, trembling, trying not to make a sound as I fight for air.
The door swings open. Luca’s voice is steady and clipped. “Boss. Got the shipment details.”
Nico doesn’t so much as twitch. His boot stays pressed cruelly against my cock, grinding slow, lazy circles that make my hips jerk in a helpless, shameful rhythm. My eyes sting, throat spasming as I force myself to stay quiet.
“Go on,” Nico says. His tone doesn’t betray a thing. “I’m listening.”
Luca steps further inside, papers rustling. He starts talking dates, routes, names, numbers. I can barely process any of it. My whole body’s screaming—throat on fire, chest burning as I swallow around him again and again, trying not to choke loud enough for Luca to hear.
Nico strokes a hand over my hair, deceptively gentle, before tightening his grip and shoving me down harder. My eyes roll, vision going spotty, tears streaming down my face. I can taste his heat filling every inch of me while I shake, helpless.
“Any issues with the port?” Nico asks evenly, like his voice isn’t vibrating down into my skull, like my throat isn’t clenched tight around him right now.
“Minor,” Luca replies. “But taken care of. The contact expects payment by Friday.”
