ARIA

A sudden awareness cuts through my dreams even though my eyes stay shut. I feel a large, warm hand grasp my wrist. Something cool glides over my skin. It feels quite small. But solid.

Like... metal?

My ring finger tingles from the sensation. It's not unpleasant, though. My mind grows sharper and more alert as the need to sleep fades away. When my eyes flutter open, I'm shocked to find myself staring at Nicco's handsome face. He's laying right beside me on the sleeping bags in my makeshift fort.

When did he get here?

I groan sheepishly, "I'm so sorry. I wasn't supposed to fall asleep. I meant to surprise you."

A faint smile appears on his face. "Believe me when I say that I am deeply moved by all of this. The wine. The lights. The rose petals. You have outdone yourself, Aria."

I blush slightly. "It's nothing compared to what you've done for me."

As though on cue, right as I utter these words, something sparkly catches my eye.

What in the world?

Frowning, I glance down at my hand. The sight that greets me draws a loud gasp from my lungs, "Oh, my God!"

If anyone's outdoing and one-upping shit right now, it's definitely not me. It's Nicco. The most gorgeous fucking diamond ring I've ever laid eyes on is now hugging my ring finger.

The style of it is so unique, and the diamond almost looks... gray?

Something about the stone calls to me. The silvery hue and perfect roundness remind me of a full moon.

I ask in a small voice, "Did you get this ring for our... engagement?"

Our fake engagement, I remind myself before my heart can beat any faster.

"But of course."

Mesmerized by the glimmering stone on my ring finger, I mumble, "This ring..."

Nicco's brow furrows slightly. He appears genuinely concerned. "You... do not like it?"

I swallow.

Hard.

No.

I don't like it at all.

I fucking love it.

I adore it so much that I'm somewhat devastated when I realize in the next second that the ring is only meant to be a prop in this play we're putting on. This diamond looks like it likely cost a fortune, Nicco will want it back eventually, and I'll have to return it to him. This inevitability makes my chest ache with longing. I meant what I said last time. Nicco makes me want to believe in love. I yearn for our story to have a happy ending against the odds.

I turn to him with a pensive expression. "How could I not love it? This ring is the most beautiful fucking thing I've ever seen in my life!"

"Then what is the problem?"

"You didn't have to get me something so nice," I say with a cough, adding as tactfully as possible, "given the circumstances."

The circumstances being—we're not really getting married.

He smiles a faint smile. "Fuck the circumstances. I had no choice, principessa."

I tilt my head to the side. "What do you mean—no choice?"

Nicco's green gaze shines with a softness I've never seen until this moment. "The color reminded me of your eyes."

My pulse jumps a beat.

Unable to resist, I throw myself at him and wrap my arms around his broad shoulders. "I swear to God, only you can drop this kind of line and get away with it. I don't know whether to laugh or swoon."

"I will take that as a compliment."

I grin. "You're ridiculous in all the best ways."

He murmurs, "So... the ring meets your expectations?"

"It's fucking perfect."

A smirk appears when his hands reach over to cup my face. "Does this mean you will marry me?"

I flash him a wry look. "Not yet."

Tensing up, he growls, "How come?"

"Not until I can give you a ring as well," I add softly, reaching for his hand as I lace our fingers together. This explanation seems to please him, and my touch melts away some of the tension in his shoulders. Grumbling, he insists, "You do not have to buy me anything."

"I know," I murmur, "but my man deserves to be spoiled, too, don't you think?"

His expression softens. "Do not spoil me too much. You will make me greedy. Greedy for more than you can give."

The longing in Nicco's voice compels me to tighten my hold on his hand. It hits me then. I don't want to let go. Ever. Tremors of distress thrum away, nevertheless. With my pulse in my throat, I peer into Nicco's green, green eyes. I'm also a greedy bitch. In his eyes, I'm searching for the impossible. I'm praying for forever.

Unwilling to break my gaze from him, I cling to this very moment. I'm not ready to face the future. A lot can go wrong in just a matter of days. There are too many unknowns and too many variables for me to control. I hate that Jaime has forced us into such a compromising position. I can't escape the fear that he'll find a way to rip Nicco from my grasp no matter how I fight back and try to protect my man.

Just like he did to Maya.

Overhead, fairy lights are shining above us. The diamond on my hand shines as well. It all feels too damn bright to last. My heart squeezes with dread. Urgency flows through me. It forces me to confess one final piece of my innermost feelings as though time's running out. "Nicco? I-I don't know what our future holds, but I've fallen for you. I'm still falling. You make me want to break all of my rules and reach for the impossible."

These sentiments rush out of me like a river breaking through a dam.

Nicco doesn't respond right away. A hard-to-read shadow flickers over his face. It fades all too quickly, and I can't tell what he's thinking. Before I'm able to ask him anything, however, he leans over to kiss me. "Dio. When you look at me with those eyes of yours and say such things, I am tempted to keep this ring on your finger. For always."

Emotion overcomes me, momentarily chasing away the rest of my worries. "What are you trying to say?"

I let Nicco draw me to him until my breasts are crushed against the solid expanse of his chest. His breath warms my cheek when he murmurs, "I want you, Aria. More than I have wanted anyone in my life."

His confession scares me as much as it captivates me. Maybe our engagement isn't so fake, after all.

"I want you, too, baby," I whisper, "far more than I should."

"You have me already," he counters through a rueful grin, "I am yours, Aria. Please do not break me."

Gently, my fingers sift through his thick black hair. "I'd never hurt you, Nicco. I don't think my heart could bear it."

His expression darkens as he catches my wrist, bringing it to his chest, right over his heart. "If that is truly how you feel, then, I beg you, stop resisting and let me in."
The sudden insistence in Nicco's tone catches me by surprise.

Is he referring to my past at Hawkins again?

I protest, "I've let you in as much as I can."

Or does Nicco suspect something else?

"It's not enough. Now, more than ever, we need to stand as one against the fuckers who want to take us down. I need to know everything you know in order to protect you. Trust in me."

For some reason, he's watching me like a hawk when I reply, "I do trust you, baby."

Nicco mutters, "But can I trust you?"

My eyes widen with a flicker of alarm. "Of course you can."

"I hope you are right."

I try to smooth things over with him, "What do you want from me, Nicco?"

Nicco's fingers dig into my waist. "Everything."

"Everything?" I echo in a small voice. "I can't give you everything. Not yet. But I want to. Please be patient with me."

He sighs. "I will... try."

Before I can wrap my head around what might be causing Nicco's sullen mood, his lips close over mine. He's surprisingly gentle, barely teasing and tasting me, but, soon enough, his tongue slips through the seam between my lips. Desire flares to life. It's chased by a flash of paranoia.

Nicco and I aren't being watched right now, are we?

His men have already checked the premises. They reported no bugs. No cameras. We should be safe. I force my attention back on Nicco.

With a soft groan, Nicco starts kissing me as though he intends to consume me. The push and pull of his lips on mine feels exquisite. He demands everything from me. A surrendering sigh falls from my breath. In this, at least, I'm able to give in completely. My hand finds its way to his rising cock. Once more, I use my body to express what I can't in words.

The romantic evening that I planned for us is losing its way.

Why can't I just give Nicco what he deserves from me?

I can't help resenting myself. For always being so fucking difficult and evasive. I can't help resenting him as well. For not being more patient with me.

I refuse to let tonight go to shit, though. Not after the effort I went through to put everything together for us. I attempt to save it, "Is there something else I can give you, baby? Tell me, and it's yours."

"I want you to lose control," he exhales in low, dark tones as my fingers wrap around his solid length.

"I don't think I've ever been in control when it comes to you." I give him a firm tug. "You've been driving me crazy since our very first kiss."

I feel Nicco smile against my mouth as he pushes himself into my fist. "Do you actually remember our first kiss, baby?"

"Of course," I mumble in distracted tones as his lips slide down my neck, kissing me there, there, and there. "It was in your apartment."

He rejects my answer, "That is not where we shared our first kiss."

My eyebrows knit together in confusion. "Wait, what?"

Why don't I remember it?
I demand, "Where did it happen then?"

"That is for me to know," Nicco replies in infuriatingly smug tones, "and you to wonder."

"Tell me," I beg.

"No," he retorts. "Now, you finally know how it feels to be left in the dark."

I huff, "That's not fair—"

He kisses me.

"I don't think—"

He kisses me again.

"Nicco, you can't—"

He kisses away each and every one of my objections. Helpless to resist, my body melds against his large, muscled frame until we're both breathless and panting. My braless nipples are hard, poking through the thin fabric of my sleep shirt. Nicco's hand drifts down to play with them, twisting and pulling the hardening peaks over my shirt. Delight floods my every nerve even though nothing feels resolved between us.

Our frustration only adds to the tension. It grows thick and heady and hot. Nicco's wayward hand continues to stray lower, lower, and even lower. Nicco finds my mound, cupping it possessively as though he owns my pussy. His fingers start to move over the cotton of my panties, touching and teasing me through the fabric. A throb of need hits me low in the belly. Soon, my hips begin to move on their own. Nicco turns his hand until his palm lays flat on my sex. He presses down on my clit. Instinctively, I grind against him. As my clit rides his palm, the friction sends coils of pleasure winding through my core.

He praises the rhythm of my movements in low, mocking tones, "Mia angelo. Do not fucking stop. Get that cunt nice and wet for me."

"Why would you call me an angel," I taunt breathlessly as my hips continue to roll over him, "when we both know I'm not?"

Nicco pushes his palm harder against my clit. The pressure feels so fucking good as he rubs and rubs and rubs. "I should fuck you like a diavolo then. Bet this tight pussy would feel real nice wrapped around my cock right about now."

Panting, I fire back, "Bet that dirty mouth of yours would feel even better between my legs."

Nicco smirks. "Is that what you want? My mouth on your cunt?"

Hating myself for how much I love the filth spilling from him, I moan, "I don't care how you do it. Just make me come."

"Get on your knees and beg for it."

"Bite me."

"Only if you ask nicely."

Our banter is pissing me off as much as it's turning me on. Nicco is wrestling for control, and I'm determined to get the last word. I don't know how my intention to spoil Nicco with a wholesome, romantic evening has spiraled into this hot and bothered mess. But those plans have clearly gone out the window. Maybe it's because Nicco and I have been stressed out, or maybe we're both keeping too many secrets from each other, but I can no longer tell if we're about to fight or fuck.