Page 25 of Madness & Mercy (Deadly Sins #1)

JULIAN

I take the keys and step out of the passenger seat, still half-convinced this is some kind of trap. But Nico doesn’t stop me. He just leans back, watching.

He said the car was mine now. Guess he meant it.

Sliding into the driver’s seat feels like slipping into someone else’s life. Everything’s leather and sleek chrome, with buttons and symbols I don’t recognize. I shift awkwardly, trying to adjust the seat, but hell if I can find the damn lever.

I grunt in frustration. “Seriously, who designed this fuckin’ thing?”

Without a word, Nico leans over, reaching across my lap. His chest brushes my arm, the heat of his body impossible to ignore. He finds the button immediately, his fingers brushing mine.

“Here,” he murmurs. “Try that.”

The seat slides smoothly into place. I try not to focus on how close he is. Or how he’s still hovering, like he’s waiting for an excuse to stay there.

I clear my throat and turn the key. The engine purrs to life like a wild animal. My pulse spikes. I’ve always wanted to be in a car like this, I just never thought I’d actually be the one behind the wheel.

“You do know how to drive, right?” Nico asks, amused.

I shoot him a look. “I’m not an idiot, Vitale.”

He smirks. “Alright then. Looks like you don’t need my help.”

I shift into gear and pull out slowly, feeling the way the car hums beneath me. It’s smooth, fast, and dangerous. Just like him.

And suddenly, I’m not sure if I’m taking the car for a test drive, or if the car is just another game he’s letting me win… for now.

I ease the Maserati down the long, winding driveway, my grip steady on the wheel, pulse anything but.

The engine begs to be pushed, to be let loose down some open stretch of highway, but I keep it slow. Not because I’m scared, but because I know he’s watching me.

Nico lounges in the passenger seat like a fucking king, one arm slung over the center console, fingers tapping lazily against the leather. His gaze never leaves me. It’s hot as sin and twice as dangerous.

“Didn’t peg you for such a cautious little driver,” he says after a beat. “I’ve seen grandmas take sharper turns.”

I scoff, keeping my eyes on the road. “I’m not wrecking a designer car just to impress you.”

His chuckle is low and indulgent. “Funny. You seemed pretty eager to impress me last night.”

My jaw tightens.

I don’t answer.

He leans in a little closer, his voice dropping to that low, wicked tone meant to disarm me. “What’s the matter, piccolino? You can take my cock like a champ, but my words throw you off?”

I grip the wheel tighter, trying not to let my expression falter. “Shut the fuck up,” I mutter. “Don’t make me slam on the brakes.”

He grins. “Do whatever you want. It’s yours now.”

The car glides down the final bend of the driveway. I catch him watching me again out of the corner of my eye. His eyes are dark and knowing, like he’s pulling strings I don’t even see.

I press the gas a little harder, just enough to feel the engine growl. “I could drive us straight into a ditch, you know.”

“And waste a perfectly good car?” he muses. “No. You like it too much.”

“You don’t know what I like.”

He arches a brow. “Don’t I?”

For a moment, the only sound is the purr of the engine and the thrum of heat between us.

We hit the main road.

I ease the Maserati into a smooth, confident 60, right at the speed limit. The engine hums beneath my hands like a well-fed predator, sleek and dangerous.

Nico glances over at the speedometer, smirks, and clicks his tongue. “Sixty?” he says, his voice low and mocking. “What are we, driving to church?”

I keep my eyes on the road. “There’s traffic cameras.”

“There’s excuses,” he murmurs, shifting in his seat so he’s facing me more directly. “And then there’s the truth.”

“And what’s that?”

He leans in just enough that I feel his breath at my neck. “You’re scared.”

I huff out a laugh. “Of what? You?”

“Of what happens when you stop pretending.”

I clench my jaw and focus on the white lines flashing past, refusing to look at him. My fingers tighten around the wheel, knuckles whitening.

But he’s not done.

“You’re wound so tight, piccolino,” he says, his voice dripping with amusement. “Driving this perfect little line. Hands at ten and two. Right at the speed limit.”

I grit my teeth. “You’re not exactly helping me concentrate.”

“Exactly,” he murmurs. “That’s the fun part.”

His hand drops to my thigh, and my entire body tenses. Heat punches through me.

“Don’t,” I say, but my voice cracks.

“You’re hard,” he purrs, palming me through my pants. “You like being teased, don’t you? Driving all neat and proper while I ruin you right here on the highway.”

“What the hell are you—”

Before I can finish, he’s already unzipping me.

“Nico—wait—”

“Eyes on the road,” he murmurs, hot breath ghosting my skin as his mouth moves lower. “Unless you want to crash us.”

I bite down on a curse, hands white-knuckling the wheel as he unzips me fully. My cock springs free, rock hard as his hand wraps around it. Then I feel his tongue. Fuck.

I jerk slightly, tires veering just a touch before I steady us again.

“Jesus Christ—”

“Oh, you’re praying now?” he says, laughing darkly against me. “That’s cute.”

His mouth closes around me fully and my whole body catches fire. I swear, I forget where I am for a second. The speedometer climbs, creeping past 65, 70…

“You’d better keep us on the road, piccolino,” he growls between licks. “Or I’ll stop.”

I shake my head, panting, my hips already twitching.

“Don’t you fucking dare.”

“Beg me,” he says, dragging his tongue along my length just enough to make my foot slam harder on the gas.

85…90…

The Maserati surges forward.

“I said beg.”

“I—fuck—I need it,” I hiss. “Please don’t stop.”

“There he is,” Nico whispers. “There’s my good boy.”

The road blurs around us. I’m barely breathing. His mouth works me in slow, wicked pulls while his fingers toy with the zipper of my shirt, slipping under the hem to trace my stomach, my chest, teasing me from all angles.

I’m falling apart, right here behind the wheel. And I don’t give a damn if I wrap this car around a tree… all I can think about is his mouth, his hands, the way he’s owning me without even breaking a sweat.

God, he feels too good, too dangerous, like a drug I’d snort straight off the barrel of a loaded gun if it meant one more hit.

The car’s pushing 100.

I barely notice the needle climbing, my eyes locked on the road but my mind spiraling out of control.

“F-Fuck,” I gasp, knuckles white on the wheel. My hips are lifting off the seat without meaning to, chasing every goddamn stroke of his hand. “You’re gonna make me crash us.”

Nico just laughs like he’s enjoying every second of it, still stroking me as he comes back up to whisper in my ear.

“That’s not my fault, piccolino,” he murmurs. “You’re the one speeding.”

His grip on my cock tightens. I nearly jerk the wheel.

“You’re fucking crazy,” I choke out.

He hums. “And you’re filthy. Rock hard with my hand down your pants on a public road. Is this what you wanted? To be used like this while everyone watches?”

Holy shit.

My body’s burning. My brain, static. There’s no control left in me, just hunger and the feel of him dragging me deeper into the depths of hell.

The car keeps flying down the road, the world blurring out around me; but all I can focus on is the sound of my breath, the throb between my legs, and the promise in Nico’s voice when he leans in and growls:

“Be a good boy, Julian. Don’t finish ‘til I say.”

My pulse roars in my ears.

Nico shifts in the seat, then leans back down, his mouth replacing his hand.

“God—fucking—” I can’t even finish.

Heat explodes through my spine as his mouth devours me. Wet. Hot. Perfect. Tongue dragging along the underside of my cock, lips sealing around my length with obscene precision.

The car swerves.

I jerk the wheel, heart pounding out of my chest. I can’t do this—I can’t—but I don’t want him to stop.

I slam my foot on the brake and veer off to the shoulder, gravel spitting beneath the tires as we skid to a halt. We barely made it. I’m shaking. Breathless. Completely at his mercy.

“Are you insane?” I pant, even as my hips arch into his mouth again.

He hums around me. The vibrations are a fucking sin.

His hand dips lower and fuck, he grabs me.

A full, heavy grip, no hesitation. His fingers slide beneath, hot and greedy, cupping my balls like he’s been dying to get his hands on me.

He plays with them, slowly at first, a lazy roll that makes my spine arch.

Then rougher, tugging, squeezing just enough to make me gasp.

Like he wants to see how far he can push before I break.

“Fucking hell—” My voice cracks. I fist his hair, anchoring myself to something as I slam into him now, reckless and needy.

And he takes it. Every frantic thrust. Every broken sound that rips from my throat. His throat works as he swallows me down, lips stretched wide, tongue wicked.

I come hard, like I’ve been dying for it.

He swallows every last drop.

My vision spots. My spine bows. I’m a fucking mess in the driver’s seat, panting like I’ve run a marathon, still tangled in his hair, heart hammering out of rhythm.

He licks his lips and pulls back slowly.

“You almost killed us,” he murmurs, smug as hell.

I’m still gasping for air. “You’re the devil.”

He smirks, licking one corner of his mouth. “By the way,” he drawls, his voice thick with amusement, “the windows are tinted.”

I freeze. My eyes flick to the cars whizzing past us on the road.

“You gotta be fucking kidding me.” I glare at him. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

He grins. “Where’s the fun in that?”

I glance out the window again, scanning the passing drivers. None of them are paying us any attention.

“Tch. Tinted windows, huh?”

“That’s right,” he murmurs, his gaze dropping to my cock like I didn’t just come down his throat a minute ago. “Still not satisfied, I see.”