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“And you call me a loud thinker, Wren. You have me spinning, you're that deep in thought right now.”
I roll my eyes at him as I trail my hand over his abs and chest, coming to a stop just before the scars that crisscross over his body. He let me touch them yesterday, or however many fucking hours ago it was, but that doesn’t mean I get the same freedom again today.
I’m not sure whether he catches the hesitation in my eyes, but in the next breath, he’s wrapping his fingers around my wrist and placing my palms on the raised skin.
Neither of us speak a word as I slowly trail my fingers across his skin, idly caressing him as he strokes his fingertips up and down my spine.
It feels like heaven. Serenity has never been a luxury of mine, but lying here as if we don’t have a care in the world, just the two of us basking in each other's presence… It’s a gift.
Vito clears his throat after a while, making me tilt my head back once more to meet his deep brown eyes. “Imagine if this is how we could wake up every day? This sense of calmness and contentment, shared with another. I’ve never felt anything like it.”
His words make my heart lurch in my chest, my throat clogging up as I fail to find the perfect words to agree with him. But when I finally get my damn tongue moving, all I can come up with feels dismal.
“That would be a dream.”
“I hope that one day it’s our reality.”
Holy. Fucking. Shit.
What is it with these fucking De Lucas lately? Hitting me in the feels and leaving me speechless. I don’t do speechless, not ever. Yet here I am, captured by him so completely that I have nothing to say.
The more I gape up at him, the wider Vito’s grin gets. This fucker knows exactly what he’s doing to me, and I’m soon glaring at him.
“I was going to say me too, but now you’re pissing me off,” I grumble, lacking any hint of true anger or irritation in my tone, and he knows it.
“Wren Dietrichson, the De Luca family is a force to be reckoned with. Every day, without question. We were raised to be resilient, unforgiving, and vengeful. Yet you manage to carry the same energy, leaving dead bodies in your wake all on your own. I don’t know how you do it, survive everything life has thrown at you already, but I have to admit, I’m in awe of you.”
My heart thunders in my chest as I lean up on my elbow, my eyes scanning his as I let the words wash over me. “You seem to bring out a better version of me,” I admit, knowing very well that I was the biggest cunt that existed before I met them.
“No, you do that to yourself,Bellissima. Now you’re no longer under your father’s rule, you’re paving your own path, and I’m fucking proud of you.”
Hearing someone say they are proud of me is just as foreign as hearing I love you. Both knock me off my feet just the same.
Vito lifts his hand, stroking my hair behind my ear as he looks up at me lovingly.
Fucking. Lovingly.
I feel so damn soft in his hold, delicate in his palms, and angelic in his presence.
I don’t want this feeling to ever end.
“You make my heart soar, just like when Enzo said he loved me yesterday. This feels like that,” I murmur despite not wanting to actually share what’s going on in my head, but it seems my heart has other ideas.
He doesn’t flinch at the mention of Enzo saying those three magical words to me yesterday. Rather, he relaxes on the bed with a wider smile on his face.
“This is exactly like that, Wren.”
I attempt to bottle the rest of my emotions up as I cup his cheek. There are no words to describe this whirlwind we’re going through together, but it’s a ride I’m not willing to get off.
Rolling further into him, I press my lips against his. When his palm rides up my spine beneath my tank top, goosebumps pebble on my skin as he holds me close to him.
“Get the fuck up. Now.” The order comes from the door, tearing our mouths apart as we glare at the intrusion. Matteo has no cares as he stands in the doorway with his hands planted on his hips giving us a pointed stare. “I’m about to kill this asshole with my bare hands if you don’t get out here and help me.”
“Who?” Vito asks, his voice extra raspy, just how I like it.
“Who do you think?” Matteo bites back, dropping his hands from his hips before quickly lifting them to the lapels of his blazer, straightening himself up.
“You better not be in there talking about me.” Enzo’s voice drifts into the room, and understanding washes over my features as I glance down at Vito.
