It's been nearly a week since Vincenzo has been at home, recovering from his injuries. This time together has been truly delightful, as we've discovered new facets of each other and deepened our understanding. Our days are filled with joy, laughter, and even a touch of playful banter. As he steadily heals, I deeply cherish these moments more than ever.
These days, I rise early to prepare breakfast for us, eager to nurture and care for him. As the first light of dawn filtered through the curtains today, I slipped out of bed, excitement bubbling inside me, eager to create a delightful breakfast. In the kitchen, I meticulously arranged a delicious spread for breakfast, my heart racing with anticipation as I set everything in place. But when my eyes flickered to the clock, a thought struck me—Vincenzo was still asleep. He usually wasn't one to sleep in this late, which sent a ripple of concern through me.
With a playful smile, I tiptoed down the hallway and stepped into his room, my voice soft and tender as I murmured his name, "Hey, Vincenzo, it's morning." Silence. No response. I moved closer, my eyes falling on him curled up beneath the blankets, pulling them tighter around himself. The sight was both endearing and unusual, stirring a mix of amusement and quiet concern within me. "Is he still asleep?" I wondered, moving closer.
When I gently brushed a finger against his lips, I couldn't help but admire how utterly adorable he looked, lost in dreamland. A warmth washed over me, and at that moment, I reached a decision. Perhaps he deserved just a little more time in this peaceful slumber.
I pressed a soft kiss to his cheek and began to retreat, my heart still warm from the stolen moment. But before I could take another step, a firm hand shot out from behind, gripping my wrist. A startled gasp left my lips as he pulled me back with effortless strength, drawing me flush against his chest. In one swift, fluid motion, he encircled my waist and guided me down onto the bed with him, his movements so smooth, so seamless, that I barely had time to react.
My breath caught. My pulse thundered. What just happened? It all blurred together, yet every moment felt eerily precise—dangerously intentional. His touch was slow, tantalizing. Warm fingers trailed beneath my shirt, drawing delicate, lingering circles along my waist. A shiver danced along my spine, and a swarm of butterflies erupted in my stomach, their wings beating wildly against my ribs.
And then—suddenly—he shifted. In a fluid, predatory motion, he turned, pressing me beneath him. The world around me melted into a blur as he reached for me, tucking a stray strand of hair behind my ear before letting his fingers trail lazily down my cheek, pausing at my lips. His thumb brushed over them, lingering, testing, tempting.
A dark smirk played on his lips as his voice, deep and velvety, dripped with amusement.
"So… my wife is taking advantage of her sleeping husband? How utterly charming."
I faltered; my breath uneven. "N-No! Why would I do that? I—I wasn't taking advantage of you!"
His smirk deepened, his gaze holding mine with an intensity that sent a delicious chill through me. He leaned in, so close that his breath ghosted over my skin, igniting every nerve in its wake.
"Oh? Then tell me, sweetheart…" His voice dropped into something darker, something wickedly seductive. "What do you call it when a woman sneaks into a man's room, traces his sleeping face with her fingers, brushes her lips against his cheeks, and then leaves without a word?"
His words coiled around me, heavy and intoxicating. My mind swam, searching for a response, but the heat in his gaze burned through every excuse I could muster.
I was trapped—beautifully, dangerously trapped.
And worst of all… I didn't want to escape.
I pushed him off me, shifting to lie beside him, our bodies close but not touching. His breathing was steady, his gaze unreadable as it lingered on me. "So, you've been awake all this time," I muttered, my voice carrying both irritation and warmth. "I called you so often—why didn't you answer?"
A slow, teasing smirk curled his lips. "Sweetheart, how should I interpret this? The way your hands are so gentle on me...
I stumbled over my words, my face heating. "Ah—I didn't mean to wake you…I just wanted to make sure you were okay and see how your wounds were healing?"," I stammered.
His smirk deepened. "Oh? If that's the case, I have plenty more wounds… want to check them all?" His voice was low, and seductive, sending a shiver down my spine.
I swatted his chest playfully, my lips curving into a smile. "Enough of your cheesy lines!"
He chuckled, leaning closer. "As my wife commands," he murmured.
I shook my head, standing up. "Alright, Mr. Husband, get dressed and meet me for breakfast outside."
Over breakfast, his gaze never left me. Then, out of nowhere, he asked, "Shall we go on a date?" I blinked in surprise. "A date? Just like that? You should be resting—you're not fully recovered yet."
Before I could protest further, he stood up, leaning over my chair, his face inches from mine. I was mid-bite into an apple when, effortlessly, he tilted forward and took a bite straight from my lips.
Smooth. Too smooth.
His voice dropped to a husky whisper. "What do you mean, 'suddenly'? A husband can take his wife on a date anytime he wants." His fingers traced the edge of my chair, his presence intoxicating. "And besides… today is my last day off. Work starts tomorrow. I want to spend the entire day with you." his eyes darkened mischievously, " So, are you going to say yes or do you want me to persuade you in my way?"
The heat of his gaze made my breath hitch. I exhaled sharply and pushed back my chair. "Fine, fine. We're going. But I want to choose the place!"
He chuckled, "Yes, madam, it's all yours."
"Rising to my feet, I rested my hand on his shoulder and gently guided him back into his seat. Leaning in, I let my lips brush dangerously close to his ear."
"Then hurry up and get ready, Mr. Husband. Don't make me wait."
I straightened, smirking as I walked away, leaving him staring after me, his eyes filled with something dark and thrilling.
This was going to be an enjoyable day.
I slipped into a sleek top, pairing it with a fitted skirt and my favourite white sneakers. Excitement buzzed in my veins—I was going out with him today. As we stepped outside our home, we ran into James, our neighbour. His eyes lit up as he greeted me, "Hey, Eva. Looking stunning as always. Off to somewhere special?"
Before I could answer, Vinchenzo's arm wrapped possessively around my waist, pulling me close. "My wife is going on a date with me do you have any problem." His voice was smooth but laced with a quiet warning. The air thickened with tension—his sharp gaze fixed on James, a silent reminder of who I belonged to. Sensing the shift, I quickly interjected, "We should get going."
The moment passed, and we left.
Waiting outside was his bike. With an effortless grace, he stepped forward, tucking a loose strand of my hair behind my ear before placing a helmet gently on my head. His fingers lingered just a second longer than necessary, sending a thrill through me. Then, extending his hand, he helped me climb onto the bike. I settled behind him, my hands resting hesitantly at my sides. But without a word, he reached back, taking my hands and guiding them around his chest, locking me against him.
I smiled. It was the little things—the way he ensured my safety, the effortless way he mixed protection with desire.
"Where are we going?" he asked, my voice barely above the roar of the engine.
"You'll see when we get there," I teased.
"Just tell me." he said.
"Patience, baby. It's a surprise.", I replied.
After a thirty-minute drive, we arrived at our destination—the amusement park. Vincenzo gazed at me, his eyes reflecting a blend of disbelief and delight—"Really?" he said. I grabbed his hand, a thrill of excitement rushing through me. "Oh, I know you're going to love this! Let's go!".
We plunged into a whirlpool of thrills, starting with the roller coaster. A surge of excitement coursed through us as we gripped each other's hands tightly, almost as if trying to anchor ourselves amidst the chaotic fun. Laughter echoed around us, and I felt the distance between us shrink with each twist and turn of the ride.
Next up was go-karting, and with a smirk, I teased him, "I know this is your favorite!" The competitive spirit bubbled between us as we raced around the track, shouting and laughing, our hearts soaring with each unexpected turn.
We hopped from ride to ride, losing ourselves in pure joy, the world beyond the park fading away. Each moment felt electric, alive with possibility, and for a time, the weight of our mission was left behind.
As we finally made our way out of the amusement park, hand in hand, I couldn't help but feel that there was magic in the chaos we had just embraced. It had been more than just a date—it was a beautiful escape, one that made everything worth it.
As lunchtime arrived, we found ourselves at a cozy restaurant, the kind that had just the right ambiance for a delightful meal. After enjoying our lunch, we strolled around the bustling streets, lost in our little world. Suddenly, we spotted an inviting ice cream parlor, its colorful sign promising sweet indulgence.
With playful banter, we placed our orders and stepped outside, ice creams in hand, eager to continue our adventure. Our feet led us to a nearby park, serene and quiet, where the only sounds were the rustling leaves and the occasional giggle escaping our lips as we savored our treats.
In a teasing tone, I declared, "My flavor is better than yours!"
"Oh really? Let me taste it then," he replied, a playful glint in his eyes.
"No way! I won't share mine," I shot back with a wink, enjoying the playful challenge.
"Well, that just means I'll have to find a way to taste it!" he declared, his face alight with determination.
In a playful sprint, I took off, laughing as I shouted, "You can't catch me!"
To my surprise, he dashed after me, laughter echoing in the open space. In one swift move, he caught me by the waist, lifting me in a joyful swirl. As my dizzy laughter filled the air, I instinctively brought my ice cream to his lips, brushing against him as I teased, "You're right; it does taste better than mine!"
My heart raced as his lips met the ice cream—our playful moment was suddenly charged with new energy. My eyes widened, processing the delightful spontaneity of the kiss, while my cheeks flushed a rosy pink. An electrifying silence wrapped around us, both of us caught in the aftermath of our playful indulgence, unsure of what to say.
After regaining our composure, we ventured back onto the busy streets, laughter still lingering between us. We stumbled upon a photobooth, its bright lights beckoning us inside. I grabbed his hand, pulling him close, and insisted we capture this enchanting day with silly photos. As we struck goofy poses, our laughter filled the small space, each snapshot a memory that would linger long after the day ended.
As the evening settled, we decided to visit a bar. Music pulsed through the air, bodies moving in rhythm with the beat. I danced freely, losing myself in the moment. But even as I let go, he remained close—a silent, unshakable presence, shielding me from the world. His touch was subtle yet commanding, fingers brushing against mine whenever someone came too close, his eyes tracing my every move. It was intoxicating—the way he let me be wild yet kept me grounded at the same time.
He moves with me, his body pressed perfectly against mine, each step a seamless blend of control and surrender. His hands grip me just right—firm yet tantalizing, like he's sculpting me to fit against him. The music thrums through us, but it's not just the rhythm he's following—it's something deeper, something primal. There's a dangerous intimacy in the way he holds me, his breath teasing my skin, his fingers tracing whispers of possession along my spine. The world around us fades into a blur of flickering lights and shadowed figures, yet I feel exposed—laid beneath the heat of his gaze.
Hours passed, drinks were poured, and laughter flowed effortlessly from our lips. But by midnight, the alcohol had settled in, and we decided it was time to leave. Outside the bar, he left me for a moment to get the bike. I stood there, carefree, scrolling through my phone, the night air cool against my skin.
Then, out of nowhere, I heard the sharp blare of horns.
I lifted my head, glancing up.
Four sleek black cars were lined up before me, engines growling like predators in the dark.
A slow, sinking feeling coiled in my stomach.
Something wasn't right.