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I sit up to glare at him, anger and concern mingling as I check him over. "I'm so mad at you," I mutter.
He smiles, his steely eyes shining as he cups my cheek. "No, you aren't."
"Yes, I am, Mattia. You shouldn't be—" I protest, but he pulls me down for a searing kiss, his lips hard and insistent against mine. Heat unfurls inside me, my core clenching as my argument withers away, no match for him and the power of his kiss.
"You aren't mad, little mouse. You're worried. There's a difference. But you're worried about nothing. I'm fine. I'm certainly healed enough to fuck my wife." His voice is calm, but I hear the underlying steel, the unyielding strength that's so much a part of who he is.
I know he's probably right, but I can't help but worry about him. I almost lost him, and it'll be a long, long time before I forget that. I spent eight days in hell. I still remember exactly what it felt like hearing the doctors say that he was dead for four minutes. I still remember seeing his blood all over Rafe. I still remember seeing him in that bed for the first time, with wires and machines keeping him alive.
For the rest of my life, I'll live with those memories. They'll haunt me.
I lost my mom. I can't lose him too. I won't.
But I don't tell him all of that. He knows. He's held me night after night when I've woken in tears, crying out for him.
Instead, I growl wordlessly, glaring at him.
He just smiles, that infuriatingly confident grin that always gets under my skin. "Do you have any idea how much I love you, cara mia?" he asks, his voice soft.
"Not as much as I love you," I sniff, crossing my arms. "I put up with you."
His grin widens. "Then put up with me forever. Marry me."
I blink at him, pretty sure he's lost his mind. Actually, I think he lost it a long time ago. But now he's talking crazy. "We're already married, Mattia."
"I know," he says. "But I want you to marry me again. Not because you think you don't have a choice or because you're afraid, but because you want to spend the rest of your life with me." He reaches out, brushing his thumb along my bottom lip. "Marry me in front of our friends and family, and end this chapter with a celebration. You deserve that, little mouse."
I chew on my lip, considering his words. The last month has been marked by grief and sadness and loss. I had to say goodbye to my mom without ever getting to say it. Brio stole that final goodbye from me. Even if he didn't kill her, he still took her from me. She spent her last months without me by her side because of him. I hate him for that. And I hate him for almost taking Mattia from me, too.
But I don't want to spend the rest of my life angry and grieving. I don't want to spend it with his shadow looming over me. I want peace and a future with this man. I know it'll never be entirely free of the pain we've endured. But that doesn't mean the future has to be built on that pain.
"Do I get to put a ring on you this time too?" I ask.
"You want to put a ring on me?"
"Yes."
"Then yes," he agrees, his expression soft and his voice full of reverence. "I'll wear a ring for you, Aurelia. I'll wear anything you want."
"Fine. Then I guess I'll marry you again." I try to sound casual, but my heart races, anticipation and excitement thrumming through me.
He grins at me, humor dancing in his eyes. "That's all it took, huh? An agreement to wear your ring?"
I shrug, refusing to admit that I've wanted a ring on his finger since night one. If he's jealous, so am I. I can't help it. I want the whole world to know he belongs to me and only to me. If he doesn't share, neither do I. He's mine.
He crawls over me, his muscular body pressing down onto mine, a possessive gleam in his gaze. "I like it when you're feeling possessive of me, topolina. It makes my fucking cock hard," he growls.
"Yeah?" I breathe, my heart pounding as I stare up at him.
"Yeah," he practically purrs, leaning down to kiss me.
I wait until his lips are a mere breath from mine and then I turn my head, denying him. "Well, that's too bad, Mattia. Because we're supposed to be at Luca's in twenty minutes, and you aren't making us late."
"Then you better fucking fight me, little mouse," he growls, his eyes growing darker as he pins me beneath him. He grips my wrists, his hold on me unyielding. "Because I'm not leaving this bed until you're screaming my goddamn name."
"Mattia!" I try to buck him off me, even as arousal floods between my legs, turning me wet and needy. Damn him for knowing exactly how to push my buttons.
"That's it, cara mia," he purrs, jerking my leg up over his thigh as he thrusts into me.
