Page 45 of Madness & Mercy (Deadly Sins #1)

“Let them,” he snaps, grinding against me so hard I see stars. “I want the whole fucking world see you’re mine.”

The words rip a sound out of me I don’t even recognize. He strokes me in a ruthless rhythm that has me bucking into him like I’ve lost my goddamn mind.

“Fuck, Nico—” I gasp, but he swallows it with his mouth, his teeth grazing my lower lip like he’s punishing me for every second I’ve ever made him wait.

“Shut up and take it,” he growls against my tongue. His strokes get harder, faster, the fine fabric of his suit rasping against my bare skin. He’s everywhere now—his cologne, his breath, the sharp press of his hand.

My knees threaten to give, but he’s got me caged, his body holding me up against the tree. The bark digs into my back, grounding me even as heat pools so sharp and fast in my gut I can’t hold back the noises tearing out of me.

“Look at you,” he pants, his forehead pressed to mine. “Getting off in the open like the filthy little puttano you are.”

My whole body’s on fire, every nerve screaming, every muscle trembling. His fist works over my cock like he’s wringing the life out of me, and the worst part—the best part—is I can’t fucking stop him.

“Please—” I choke, not even sure what I’m begging for anymore.

His grip tightens, the pressure almost painful. “Come for me, cucciolo. Make a fucking mess on me. Right here.”

The command shatters something in me. Heat rips through me so hard I see white. My spine bows against the tree, a hoarse cry tearing out of me as I spill all over his hand, all over his perfect fucking suit. My release coats us both, sticky and hot, and I can’t even stop shaking.

He doesn’t stop right away. He strokes me through the aftershocks, dragging it out until I’m gasping, wrung out, clinging to his jacket just to stay upright.

Finally, he slows, smirking down at me like the devil in a thousand-dollar suit. He lifts his come-slicked hand between us, rubbing his thumb over my bottom lip. “Messy boy.”

I groan, my face burning, but I’m still trembling, still high on him, every bit of me screaming for more even as I sag against the tree.

“Tell me, piccolino,” he growls against my ear. “should I drag you upstairs and ruin you properly?”

I shake my head so fast I’m dizzy. “Just…just do it already.”

He chuckles darkly, low in his chest, and it vibrates straight through me. “So needy. You want me to take you right here?”

“Yes,” I gasp, nodding frantically. “God, yes.”

His smirk cuts like a blade. “Too bad I didn’t bring any lube. Guess you’ll have to wait.”

I groan loud enough it echoes through the courtyard. “For fuck’s sake. The one time you don’t have it?”

“I was trying to be a gentleman,” he purrs, his lips brushing my jaw. “But you…you just can’t stop tempting me.”

“Gentleman, my ass,” I mutter, and before he can say another word, I drop to my knees on the grass and yank his belt open. “Fuck it.”

I take his cock down in one greedy pull, gagging around the sheer size of him, spit dripping down as I work him hard and sloppy, daring him to stop me.

I hollow my cheeks and force him deeper, choking on his cock like I need it more than air. My hands clutch at his thighs, dragging him closer until my nose brushes the expensive belt buckle I just ripped open.

“Julian—” he rasps, his voice breaking for once, raw and almost startled. “Fuck—”

I pull off just enough to catch my breath, spit dripping down my chin as I glare up at him with wet eyes. “Shut up. Let me.”

Then I’m back on him, bobbing fast, messy, reckless, like I’m trying to swallow every inch of him.

I twist my wrist around the base while my mouth works the rest, tasting him, breathing him, letting the obscene sounds echo in the quiet morning air.

The sight of him, suit jacket pushed back, shirt straining, head tilted up to the sky because of how much he’s holding back, it’s enough to make me harder than I’ve ever been.

His hand twitches like he’s about to grab my hair, but I slap it away, glaring up at him like a warning.

“That’s right,” I rasp when I pull off for air, stroking him hard, spit and precum slicking my fist. “You don’t get to move. You don’t get to touch me until I say so.”

I keep working him, messy and brutal, sucking until my throat aches and my jaw locks, stroking the rest with a tight, desperate fist. He’s groaning now, one hand braced against the tree, the other fisting uselessly at his side because I won’t let him touch me.

“Julian…” His voice is strangled and ragged. “If you don’t stop, I’m gonna—”

That’s when I pull off him with a wet pop, gasping, spit slicking my lips, my chin wet with it. I wipe the back of my hand across my mouth, smirking up at him through wrecked lashes.

“Good,” I pant. “I want you on the fucking edge.”

Before he can catch his breath, I stand and turn, bracing both hands against the rough bark of the tree. My sweatpants are already halfway down my thighs, my ass bared to him. I glance back over my shoulder, pupils blown wide, daring him.

“Now fuck me,” I growl. “Right here.”

His breath catches. For once, Nico Vitale, the man who bends the whole city to his will just stands there, undone, staring at me like I’ve lost my mind.

“Julian…” His voice is dark, warning, but his cock is already twitching, flushed, wet at the tip. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“I don’t give a damn,” I snap, shoving my hips back just enough to brush against him. “I want you. You said it yourself—you own me? Prove it.”

That’s all it takes for him to finally fucking snap.

He growls, and then he’s on me, slamming me chest-first into the rough bark, caging me in with his body. His hands clamp down on my hips so hard I yelp, my nails digging into the tree.

“You don’t know what the fuck you’re asking for,” Nico grits out, his voice vibrating against my neck.

I shove back, already grinding my ass against the thick press of his cock. “I know exactly what I’m asking for. Now fuck me, Nico. Make me yours.”

He curses in Italian, and then he’s lining up, his cock hot and heavy, already leaking against my hole. When he drives in, the stretch is brutal but perfect, splitting me wide until I scream.

“Julian,” he snarls, thrusting deep, burying every inch. “Jesus Christ, you take me so fucking well.”

I can’t answer. All I can do is arch and gasp, palms scraping bark as he ruts into me with punishing force, my ass clapping back against his hips. The sound is obscene, echoing through the quiet garden.

“You feel that?” he growls, pistoning into me. “Every inch of you’s mine. This cock, this body…” He yanks my hair, snapping my head back so my throat’s exposed. “Say it. Tell me you’re mine.”

“I—fuck—” His thrusts wreck my rhythm, battering my insides. “I’m yours. God, I’m yours, Nico!”

“Louder,” he demands, slamming into me so hard, my vision blurs. “Let the whole fucking world hear who you belong to.”

“I’m yours!” I cry out, raw and desperate, voice cracking as pleasure explodes through me. I come hard while he’s still pounding me through it, using me like I was made for him.

“That’s it, piccolino,” he groans, his breath hot at my ear. “Take it like a good boy.”

I’m trembling, wrecked, overstimulated and still greedy for more.

He fists my hair tighter, teeth sinking into my shoulder as he slams home one final time, grinding deep as his cock jerks and floods me, hot and endless.

His groan rips through me as he bottoms out inside me until it’s dripping down my thighs.

For a moment, I can’t move. My knees threaten to give, but he pins me against the bark, panting hard, still buried inside me like he can’t stand the thought of pulling out.

Rose petals scatter at our feet, candles flicker in daylight, and if anyone stumbled into this garden right now, they would see clear as fucking day that I, Julian Cross, belong to Nico Vitale.