Nico Di Angelo Aesthetic Novels & Stories

"THE BEST NEWS AND THE WORST TIMING TEND TO ARRIVE AT THE SAME MOMENT." DANTE Nico stands at the end of the corridor looking at both of us like he is mildly puzzled by the expressions on our faces. Like he has walked in on something he was not expecting and is taking a moment to assess it. His suit is rumpled in a way Nico's suits are never rumpled. There is a cut above his left eyebrow that has been cleaned but not properly treated. Other than that he looks — impossibly, inexplicably — fine.

Just to infuriate us further, Alex added. "Both of you make sure to stay far away from me, cuz I want to impress girls today but that won't be possible if you guys are near because they will get scared of your ugliness" I ignored him, knowing very well that they loved to mess with us. I didn't doubt that Alex will pull out a few tricks and try and impress any female of his age, 100 feet near him. "Is this a lip balm. It is white in colour maybe I can use this to soften my lips." I turned around to see Angelo holding an eye primer and applying it onto his lips. Both me and Serena were shocked, but soon we both started laughing looking at Angelo's new look.

Every revelation was a reminder, nothing in this world stayed buried for long. When the clock edged closer to the hour, Nico became a man on a mission. He lined up products and fabrics like a general preparing for war. He started with my nails, carefully pressing on a fresh set. “Short. Always short,” he declared with the authority of a stylist who brooked no debate. “Long claws scream desperation. Short nails? That’s control and power. That’s a woman who doesn’t need to reach, because everything comes to her.” I smirked. “Bossy much?”

And there, standing on the other end of the table, holding a bouquet of deep red roses, was Nico. I hadn't really seen his face in bright light before, only in the shadows and neon glow of Club Eden. But now, under the soft golden lighting of the candles, I could see everything clearly. His skin was smooth and flawless, the kind that spoke of expensive skincare routines and good genetics. He wore a white two-piece linen suit that made him look like an angel: crisp, clean, and entirely at odds with the devil I knew him to be. The jacket was tailored perfectly to his broad shoulders, and the pants broke just right over his shoes. His dark hair was styled back, and when he smiled at me, it was

Like he spends enough time in here contemplating his wardrobe that he needs to pour himself a drink. Although… There are comfy-looking chairs with ottomans, so perhaps that is the case. I would never discount that Nick Angelini is fantastically stylish. Not to mention, this room is incredibly soothing, with classical music faintly drifting on the air and the enticing scent of whatever cologne Nick last used wafting under my nose.

My body shuddered from pleasure coursing right into my bones. More… more… I needed more. Nico’s eyes opened suddenly, eyes finding the camera right on cue, a smirk stretched wide on his lips as he moaned again. He knew I was watching… How long? Did he know I was here, jerking off senselessly, beating my meat so much that it hurt and I wanted more of it. “I’d fuck you. Till you bloody find it unable to walk proper… I want you Antonio… I fucking do,” he whispered again, confessions of sweet nothings.

“Live a little. They’re not charging extra.” Nico shrugged. “Habit.” They slid down the line together. Nico’s eyes drifted—unintentionally—to the far end of the hall, where a single figure stood out even among the flawless crowd. He was built like a classical statue come to life: broad shoulders, tapered waist, every muscle carved with precision. Skin the color of polished white marble, flawless, almost luminous under the chandelier light. Hair black as ink, swept back. Eyes the pale gray of winter sky. He moved with the effortless arrogance of someone who’d never known rejection.

I was used to the cameras that were in my face trying to get the best angles. Nate yelled cut and then we touched up on makeup and hair and then moved to the window to film that scene. Andreas had one arm around my mid-stroke the other was holding up my left leg as he fucked me from behind. Nate yelled cut, mid-stroke and Andreas groaned whilst I whimpered annoyed by the disturbance. They did some touch ups to my hair and face and then we finished off.

Angelo is not ugly, at least from what I remember and see on the news, no matter how much I don't like him I can't lie about this thing. Not that I can judge much by some fucking photos, but he looks like an attractive man. A sculpted face with a perfect jawline, eyes a dark shade of brown and his hair was black and neatly gelled back. He has a beautiful smile, I admit, although he rarely smiles in photos. He is tall with a well-shaped body from what I can see from the suits he is always wearing. I can't say that he is big, but he has enough muscles on him.

“You? Helping someone out of the goodness of your heart? Come on, Angelo. We’ve known you since you were stealing cigars from your old man’s stash. You don’t just ‘return favours.’” I kept my expression neutral. “This is different.” “Different how?” Nico pressed, his tone sharper now. “Because she’s young and scared? Or because you feel something for her?” I frowned, my jaw tightening. “This isn’t about feelings. Don’t start making assumptions.” “Oh, come on,” Marco said, throwing his hands up. “You expect us to believe this isn’t about pity or… something else? She’s not just another pawn, Angelo. We can see it.”