It Began In Italy | ✔️

Chapter Twenty Two

I hadn't spoken to my mother since I had gone to the island. Any form of communication consisted of small glances, which were quickly followed by one of us looking in the other direction. It was beyond awkward, to say the least.

While I sit there munching on a breakfast bagel that consisted of egg and bacon, the front door opens but I don't take much notice. It is when everyone smiles brightly, except my mother, that I know who had just entered the house that I now like to call a death trap.

A certain blue-eyed, dark-haired Italian.

Turning in my chair, I give him a bright smile. Relief washes over me at the sight of him and memories come flooding back. It's crazy how the man who would screw me shamelessly in a hot spring is the same guy who became nervous when he wasn't sure if I would like a surprise.

"Another surprise?" Vienna chimes in and Nico laughs, rubbing the back of his neck. Shy Nico has to be my favourite.

Nico looks into my eyes. "I'm afraid so," he smiles, and I am completely enraptured. The power this man has over me will either make me or break me. I would prefer the former.

"I just need to get ready," I say, hushed, and gesture for him to follow me up the stairs.

"What's going on?" Nico asks when we are in the comfort of four solid walls. I shake my head, not sure where to even start. My breakfast stirs in my stomach, sickness soon to arise.

"My mother and I argued and we're just not speaking right now. I told her how I don't appreciate her getting involved in my personal life and she basically called me an ungrateful slut," I smile as we sit down on the bed.

Nico's hand meets my cheek and I lean into his touch. "Last time I checked you were a grown woman, and I was the only one between your thighs... unless that has changed of course," Nico says and my heart races in my chest.

"I'm still a grown woman but I cannot guarantee you're the only one," I whisper and his jaw ticks, despite knowing that I'm joking. Nico gets far too agitated for his own liking. "It's a joke," I laugh, and Nico pushes me back onto the bed, a pang of pain moving up my spine.

Nico lifts the end of my shirt, moving his head beneath the material. He trails kisses along my torso before biting my stomach. "Jokes are supposed to be funny, amore mio," Nico kisses my skin again and I can't help my laugh at the tickling sensation.

Nico flips me over in one swift motion, pressing himself against my arse. His hands slide beneath my shirt, moving up my back and massaging the muscles along the way.

It's when his hands move over the middle of my spine that I wince. "That hurts," I murmur and Nico pauses.

"I barely touched you," he says, confusion lacing his tone. Nico gently runs his fingers over the same spot and the pain isn't as bad as previous, but it is still evident. "Can I lift your shirt?" Nico asks and I nod my head.

Nico lifts my shirt and there's a moment of silence. "Is there anything there?" I ask and Nico doesn't respond. Forcing myself to flip over, Nico moves beside me.

"Did I do that to you?" he whispers and my eyebrows furrow.

Getting up from the bed, I move to the mirror and lift the back of my shirt. A rather large bruise is spread across the middle of my back. My mind goes back to when Nico was pounding into me, and my back was pressed harshly against the rocks.

"No, it's just from the rocks, it's fine," I assure him, not annoyed one bit. It wasn't his fault; he couldn't have known that it hurt. If I had voiced that it was hurting in that position, I know for certain that Nico would have stopped immediately.