Nero moved his face toward Milo's, his intent clear. He wanted to reclaim him, to mark him in front of everyone. Milo squeezed his eyes shut, his hands curling into fists against the wall. He felt the heat of Nero's breath on his lips.
"Please," Milo begged.
"Open your eyes, Milo," Nero commanded. "Look at me while I remind you who you belong to."
Milo opened his eyes, but he wasn't looking at Nero. He was looking past him, toward the elevator at the end of the hall.
He saw the doors beginning to slide open. He prayed for Salvatore to appear, for anyone to break the suffocating hold Nero had on him.
Nero didn't care who was watching. He leaned in, his lips brushing against Milo's.
"You're coming home soon," Nero whispered against his mouth. "And when you do, I'm going to make sure you never have the strength to run again."
Nero pressed his mouth against Milo's in a hard, possessive kiss. It wasn't an act of affection, it was a physical claim.
