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I shake my head. “And this groom needs some high-intensity therapy for his grandiose delusions.”
Nico goes silent for a beat, then says in a strangely cool voice, “Check my left pocket, fiammetta, will you?” Then he buries his face in my neck, his lips grazing the fluttering pulse—a move that never fails to set my heart racing wildly.
“What’s in there?”
He nudges me with his hip, the movement unwittingly pushing his arousal into my lower back. “Go on.”
I immediately reach behind me and squeeze his cock, feeling the familiar tightening in my womb. It’s not even been an hour since he fucked my brains out, and I already want him again. “Nico—” I whisper, stroking his rigid length.
His palm connects with my ass in a deliciously stinging smack. “Not there, you greedy little minx.” he scolds. “I said, left pocket.”
I flush, finding his sharp tone and spank incredibly arousing. “Jesus, Nico, you’re so irritatingly bossy sometimes, you know that?”
He only grunts, still kissing my neck as I dip my hand into the left pocket of his pants. The moment my fingers close around the small velvet box, my mouth goes dry.
Oh God, Nico is doing it right now.
Nico’s embrace tightens. “Take it out,” he whispers, his breath warm against my skin.
I withdraw my hand, my heart already pounding. It’s a dark green box that snaps open with just a slight press. I gasp at the sight of the huge diamond ring that somehow captures the essence of everything I am. It’s an emerald-cut diamond solitaire set in platinum and framed by a Celtic knot on either side.
“Oh, my God.” Tears spring to my eyes and clog my throat.
“Do you like it?” Suddenly, the alpha don disappears, and I feel the tension radiating from him.
“I—It could be worse, I guess,” I begin, trying for flippant but failing miserably because my feet decide to do this annoying hopping-on-a-spot thing. “Oh fuck. I love it. I love it.”
Okay, we get it. Calm the fuck down, Soph.
Nico spins me to face him. In a voice that feels like the slow stroke of his callused palm down my spine, he begins, “Sofia Lauren Kellan. My little big spitfire. You are the…” he hesitates as if searching for the right words, “...the treasure I don’t deserve, but one I’ll—I’ll spend my life proving I’m worthy of. You are, without a doubt… the best decision I have ever made.”
My tears flow freely now, and I have no clue why I’m suddenly nodding because it’s not like he’s asked me anything yet—
“Marry me.” He whispers. It’s a desperate plea and a command.
And now that he’s asked, I’m speechless. His words are so beautiful, but much more than what he said is the fact that he stumbled on them. Nico never ever does that. Under all of that self-assurance and dominance, he’s nervous. Now that I think about it, he’s the one who’s been nervous all week.
Unable to speak, I simply hold out my hand for him.
Flashing a dimpled grin, he carefully removes the ring and slides it onto my finger. It’s a perfect fit, but I wouldn’t expect anything less from Nico.
“Nico?”
“Yes, baby?” He gently sweeps his thumbs across my cheekbones, wiping my tears.
“What did you call me earlier? The best what?”
He gazes at me, his eyes alight with love and a hint of amusement. “The best decision I ever made,” he repeats.
“Don’t you mean ‘the best mark you failed to take out’?”
His smile widens, pure joy radiating from him. “Hell, yeah. I don’t know what hit me, but I stopped working right from the moment I laid eyes on you.”
My laughter fades into a contented sigh as I rise in tiptoe to whisper in his ear. “Yes, I will marry you, Domenico Vitelli.”
He arches a teasing eyebrow. “Well, I don’t see that you’ve got any other choice in the matter, but yeah, I’ll fucking take the yes.”
I laugh, giving him a playful shove, which he returns, prompting me to push away from him and get in a fighting stance. His eyes take on a feral gleam as his erection twitches in his sweatpants. His reaction is just as I predicted.
