Angelo leaned against the door when he got to the safety of the bathroom, strands of his voluminous hair damp and sticking to his misted face. He tore off the hoodie but it felt like even the rush of air was uncomfortably hot.
He pulled off his pants, making his way over to the shower. He half-expected Nikolai to follow him right to the bathroom so as not to miss even a moment of the torture. He glanced around despite himself before stepping into the shower, scanning for cameras.
There was none he could see, but he found himself past caring even if there were cameras. He stepped into the shower, making sure the dial was turned all the way down before putting the shower head on.
The cold water was icy relief, it perfectly combated the relentless heat. The reprieve was everything he hoped for, so much so that he lowered himself to a crouch, the shower water falling onto his just-styled hair.
Angelo wasn’t cold even with the icy water soaking his skin. Mafia King Nikolai had called it an aphrodisiac but all it had done was fill him with a painful heat, like a fever. It was more like a non-lethal poison with its burning effects.
He stayed under the cold shower for as long as he could, nearly pruning his skin. All the product had been washed out of his hair and when he dried it up with a towel, it was noticeably less puffy than it used to be.
Angelo put on a bathrobe as he dried up the water on his hair and skin, waiting for the resurgence of the burning sensation but there was nothing of the sort.
He walked over to the door to pick up his discarded clothes with the intention to put them back on. As he got to the door, pleasure lanced through him. It was sudden enough to rob him of his breath and have him leaning against the door to remain upright.
His clothes were still on the ground yet to be picked but he stared right through them. There was an instant tent in the bathrobe he wore, the pleasure intense enough to make him drool.
Angelo dropped to his knees, dizzy, air on his damp skin making him shiver. It had been only a few seconds and he hadn’t touched himself but it felt like he was right on the edge. This kind of needle-point pleasure was unfamiliar to him, it made him shake on his knees.
Nikolai, that fucking bastard. He knew this would happen and that was why he had offered for him to take a shower.
Like the Mafia King had heard his mental cursing, his voice came from the other side of the door. "I hope you didn’t drown yourself in the sink?" He asked indolently but if Angelo could see past that, he would hear the worry in his tone.
Angelo knew he shouldn’t but he was furious, and the anger cleared up the haze in his brain somewhat. He pushed himself to his feet and yanked the door open, glaring at Nikolai.
"Fuck you," It was meant to be an epithet conveying just how strongly he felt against the Mafia King at that moment but it came out soft and breathy.
Nikolai’s smile was a threat, sharp teeth flashing. "I’m not on the menu, unfortunately." He said without a hint of remorse, taking a step back to get a better look.
He had decided on the aphrodisiac on the spur of the moment after seeing Angelo’s angry flushed face but he had to pat himself on the back, it was such a great idea that he was going to stock up on the sex drug.
Angelo was Find your next favorite novel on NovelHub today! His long hair was damp, a healthy red flush on his face, one that stained his lips and the corners of his eyes a soft red.
This was just as satisfying as his look of anger, maybe more. Nikolai’s smile didn’t fade when Angelo said nothing more, "You might want to come back to bed, it’s going to remain in your system for a couple of hours."
Angelo remained unmoving, glaring at Nikolai who just walked off to sit right next to the bed. The Alpha had moved a chair close to the bed to get a closer view of him.
"You’re sick," Angelo blurted out, already at his limit and he still had hours to go.
Nikolai was truly amused by this statement, laughing as he took out a cigar. "If you don’t come yourself, I’ll bring you."
Angelo walked out of the bathroom without bothering to change into his clothes. Even the bathrobe was too much against his skin, and it was made of soft cotton, skimming over his thighs.
He would also stain his clothes if he wore them, precum sticky on his thighs. He wore a tense expression as he walked to the bed, having more reason to be worried than the aphrodisiac.
Angelo already knew that Mafia King Nikolai was insane, it was the reason Silvia had tried to dissuade him. Now he almost wished he had listened, this was an unbearable kind of torture.
He glanced at the scar he had left on the Mafia King’s face, it was still tinged red around the corners, the bandage coming off not too long ago. It was thin but deep so it had closed up pretty quickly but it would leave a scar.
He got on the bed on his knees, moving gingerly. It was the only position he could stay in that there wouldn’t be friction on his cock but it didn’t matter regardless because the drug in his system pulsed constantly with waves of pleasure.
Angelo was partially turned away from Nikolai’s piercing gaze, his hands clenched into fists. He wanted to lay on his face and rut against the sheets, even a bit of friction would push him over the edge.
He didn’t move from his sitting position however, sweat making his hair and the cotton robe stick to his skin. It was difficult to remain upright, constantly being on the edge sapped him of his strength, it made him want to lie down.