The Italian Billionaire’s Nubian Queen (BWWM Romance Book 1) Read online

  Sighing, a little exasperated with her own newfound fanciful imagination, Alyssa walked to her door and turned the sign from ‘Open’ to ‘Closed’. She was just about to turn the lock and pull down the shade when she saw it.

  Alyssa frowned.

  She’d imagined it, hadn’t she?

  There was nothing out there. Her stupid dreams were driving her mad. Maybe she did need therapy now.

  But there was something there. A figure, tall and imposing, walking through the pelting rain almost as thick as a curtain, towards her. Even through the sheets of water pouring between them, even in the darkness, she thought she could see his eyes.

  Panic filled her. This couldn’t be happening. She was not prepared for this to happen. Was it the one who searched for her? Or was it the one who found her? All the panic and fear and uncertainty and longing in her dreams wrapped around her heart and squeezed it as if it wouldn’t let her breathe, wouldn’t leave her alive.

  The figure stepped under the eaves in front of her door and it was just a man. A man who could make her half mad with longing. A man she barely knew, but somehow recognized, in her heart.

  He didn’t knock. She had her hand on the key. If she turned it, and turned away, he would leave. This would be the third time she’d turned him away in some way. She knew it would be the last.

  She couldn’t do it.

  She opened the door and stepped back. He walked in, water dripping from his coat onto her clean floor, and he stood there, watching her. His eyes appraised her, as if he wasn’t sure if he’d found what he was looking for. She hadn’t even known that she’d been looking, but she didn’t know what she’d found, either.

  But she had opened the door.

  A gust of wind blew in rain. Quickly, she closed the door and locked it. She hesitated just a moment before pulling the shades down and turning to him.

  “Alyssa.”

  The way he said her name made her breathless. The way he looked at her made her tremble. She was afraid. She was afraid of how she felt with him. She’d never felt like that before. Not with anybody. She'd never felt this compelling, irresistible chemistry with anybody.

  “You’re soaking wet. I’ll get you a towel.”

  He didn’t move. She didn’t move, either.

  “Matteo, what are you doing here?”

  “I couldn’t get you out of my mind.”

  “Why?”

  “I don’t know. I went back home. I went back to Italy, but I could do nothing. I waited a week. I told myself that I would wait forever if I had to, but I couldn’t. I needed to see you.”

  “I’m here.”

  “I know. I see you.”

  “Matteo, I don’t understand what’s going on.”

  “Do you need to?” asked Matteo, and Alyssa looked up into those green eyes, and she didn’t care. Everything she'd tried not to feel came roaring back. She wanted him. She wanted him more than she had ever wanted a man before.

  Couldn’t she have that? Couldn’t she just take that much and trust that she would be fine afterwards?

  She was deluding herself. She knew that, too. But she'd opened the door. She’d made her choice in that moment. She knew that.

  “I… I don’t know.”

  “I’m here because I couldn’t get you out of my mind. You’re in my head. You’re in my dreams. I needed to see you.”

  “Your dreams?”

  “My dreams. You’re everywhere, but not with me. I need you with me.”

  She took a step towards him, knowing that she might be making a mistake. Knowing that she was risking more than she could imagine.

  “I don’t…”

  “You don’t what, Alyssa?”

  She was so close to him, just a few inches away. One more step and she would be brushing against him. Taking a deep breath, she looked up at him, and met his eyes.

  “I don’t know why this is happening.”

  “Do you need to know?” he asked again, and Alyssa didn’t look away.

  “Matteo.”

  He sighed, pulled her into his arms, and she melted against him. She was found. She was home. His coat was wet and soaked her clothes through, but it didn’t matter. She was warm in his arms anyway. She rested her head under his chin and held on, wrapping her arms around him, pressing herself to him.

  Was it the first time they’d touched since he’d kissed her hand? Since he’d gripped her arms? This time, it felt like everything right.

  “Matteo.”

  “Look at me.”

  She raised her head to look at him, looked into his eyes, and she trusted him. She chose to trust him.

  He bent his head towards her. The world seemed to go still in anticipation. She couldn’t move. She couldn’t breathe. Her lips parted, just a little. Her eyes closed. When his lips finally touched hers, she sighed against his mouth, moved against him, and opened for him.

  He kissed her slowly, softly, his hand sliding into her hair and cupping the back of her head as he kissed her. She sighed against him again as he moved his lips against hers, as he let his tongue trace the shape of her lips, in a soft, sensual kiss that was endless, unstoppable. She didn’t want to stop him. She sighed and held on as he kissed her deeper, and everything curled and coiled inside her. The fire that had been banked simmered, burst into flame when he slid his tongue into her mouth, drew her tongue into his, and kissed her like she'd never been kissed before.

  She moaned and pressed herself against him, letting him take as he pleased, as much as he pleased, all of her if he wanted her. She would give him everything she had.

  He pulled away, leaving her gasping for breath, a little disoriented. The storm raged on outside.

  “Matteo,” she whispered, and he kissed her again, longer this time, deeper, more passionate, until she was clinging to him desperately. She’d never felt so much before. She’d never known she could feel so much. She wanted…

  Oh, she wanted so much more. She needed more.

  This time he kissed her neck, used his tongue to taste her and she slid her fingers into his wet hair, holding on tight.

  “Don’t stop,” she whispered, and he didn’t. He shrugged out of his coat, left it on the floor, and pulled her closer to kiss her again, deep, open-mouthed kisses that had her struggling to breathe, but she didn’t need air. All she needed was him.

  Alyssa wasn’t sure when her hands started moving on their own, but she was undoing the buttons of his shirt, spreading it open, stroking her hands over his toned chest, over his small nipples, until he bit down on her shoulder, hard enough to draw a moan from her. But she didn’t want him to stop, not then. Not ever.

  He pulled away, and she moaned in disappointment, denial. She needed him. She needed…

  “Oh God.”

  He was beautiful. She'd never seen anybody more beautiful. She reached out to touch him, transfixed, and watched in awe as his muscles rippled under her fingers. She wanted more. Oh, she wanted so much more.

  “I need you, Alyssa.”

  She knew what he needed. She could give it to him. She pulled the dress she'd worn that day up and over her head, leaving her in her comfortable bra and panties. She wasn’t shy when his eyes moved over her, almost as physical as his hands would’ve been.

  “Bellissima,” he whispered, and it was the sexiest thing she’d ever heard. “Let me touch you. I need to touch you, Alyssa.”

  His words became thicker, more exotic, as he reached for her, pulled her to him and kissed her again. His hands moved over her back, lighting little flames as he touched her, and he flicked open the snap of her bra quickly, pulled the straps down her arms.

  She didn’t stop him as he undressed her, leaving her bare to him. She didn’t even shy away from him when he stepped away to look at her.

  “Alyssa,” he whispered, and her name sounded different on his lips. When he pulled her close and kissed her again, she didn’t even think of stopping him. She needed him so much that she would’ve done anything to
have him.

  “Please, I need you.”

  He groaned as he pulled her to him, crushing her breasts against his chest as he kissed her again, and again. This time, he cupped her breasts and teased her hard nipples, until she was crying out softly, desperate for…

  “I need you,” she told him again, desperate for him to understand how badly she wanted him. She pulled at his pants, pushed them down frantically and felt him pressing against her, hard, more than ready to be inside her. The need to be joined with him was so fierce that it nearly took her breath away. She cried out softly again when he kissed her, cupped her bottom and pressed her so close to him, so intimately connected, just a couple of layers of insubstantial fabric separating them.

  “I want to make love to you, Alyssa. Now, I need you.”

  She needed him, too. So much.

  “Make love to me.”

  He didn’t need to be asked twice. It didn’t matter that the floor was wet, that they were on his wet coat. He laid her down, moved over her, and he kissed her again, and again. He kissed and licked his way down her neck, making her tremble for him again, and again, as he paused by her shoulders, along her collarbones, between her breasts, under her breasts, her navel. When he finally went back and kissed her nipples, she cried out, arched her back and pulled his face closer. Knowing what she wanted, he drew her nipple into his mouth and sucked on it until she was breathless.

  She no longer heard the storm outside. All that mattered was the one that raged inside her. She felt it raging inside him, too, and needed to feel more of it. She wanted all that fire, all that shocking pleasure.

  “Make love to me,” she demanded, her voice harsh.

  It wasn’t a request. It wasn’t a plea. It was a demand.

  He didn’t deny her. He kissed his way down her torso again, licked her hips until she writhed for him, pressed a soft kiss to the crotch of her panties before drawing them down and off. Her legs spread open for him. She didn’t shy away as he looked at her, his eyes taking in her form, from top to bottom as her whole body seemed to reach out to him.

  “Matteo.”

  “Oh yes,” he said, his voice hoarse as he pressed a kiss between her legs, making her gasp out loud. He moved away, slipped his hand where his lips had been for a second, and touched her, parted her, spread her and stroked her until she nearly went limp with pleasure. Her breathing was ragged. Her heart was wilder than the storm that still raged on. She let him touch her and welcomed the pleasure he brought her, welcomed how he made her cry out again, and again, as he stroked that hard swollen nub of flesh where she longed to be touched, over and over. When he slid two fingers inside her and curled them gently, she cried out again, nearly sobbing for him to be inside her, but she didn’t want him to move away. She didn’t want him to draw his hand away.

  His fingers moved faster, and faster, and she raised her head to look at him, saw how those green eyes were on her face, and pleasure whipped through her like the strongest wind. She flew with it, crying out in triumph as it whipped through her, making her feel more powerful than she'd ever felt before.

  She didn’t know when he’d taken off his briefs because he was naked as he moved over her, as he pushed her legs up by her knees and spread her. She was ready to welcome him inside her, more than ready.

  “Look at me.”

  She did, and once she did, she couldn’t look away. Her eyes were on his, and she saw the need inside her reflected in his, but even wilder. Still, so much control, such exquisite control as he pressed his hard manhood home inside her, his hips rocking as he pushed inside her, stretching her, filling her slowly, steadily, until she cried out as pleasure began to awaken again.

  He pressed kisses to her lips, again and again, with every gentle thrust, until he was finally inside her, sheathed all the way inside her.

  This was what she needed.

  When he started moving, she moved with him. She held on to him and moved with him, her hips pumping, matching his rhythm and driving him harder, and faster, with every thrust.

  She demanded more, and more, and he gave it to her, filling her over and over again as he held her, his hips thrusting steadily, relentlessly.

  Pleasure drew higher and higher, and she knew she would crest and peak soon. But this time she wanted it to be with him. She needed to give him what he was giving her.

  “Please, Matteo. Please, I need you to…”

  She couldn’t finish. She had to stop to breathe because he moved faster, harder, driving into her over and over again until she was clutching at him, fighting to breathe, willing to give up her breath for this. She cried out as the pleasure rocked her again, and she flew again, holding on to him this time, and it was even higher, even wilder because she could hold on to him.

  She shuddered with him still inside her for long, endless moments, until he could hold on no longer. He thrust into her over and over again, until finally, he let himself have the pleasure he had given her so willingly.

  Chapter 8

  Alyssa thought the storm was clearing, and so was her head. She didn’t know what madness had descended on her, exactly, but she was now lying naked with Matteo. Who was also naked. Very definitely naked. She snuck a look and was glad to see that he had, at least, remembered to put a condom on. She hadn’t thought of such things. Sure, she was on the pill to avoid cramping from hell every month, but a hot piece of ass with many billions had probably slept with more people than she could’ve managed even if she had accepted every single proposition that had been thrown her way.

  Oh God. What had she been thinking? He'd just walked in and she'd had sex with him. On the floor of her shop.

  She was going to have to sanitize herself and her floor now.

  Why was she even thinking about the floor? She’d had sex with Matteo Colombo. That had to rank up there in the top ten most stupid things she'd done in her life.

  Alyssa sat up slowly, and saw that Matteo was looking at her with a lazy grin that showed that he had no intention of getting up. He also had no regrets. Very obviously.

  “You’re beautiful.”

  “You get very Italian when… You know.”

  His grin widened. Did he have absolutely no sense of self-consciousness? Because she did. Good heavens, where was her dress? Where were her bra and panties? She was apparently still wearing her shoes. So, she saw, was Matteo. That was all he was wearing, though.

  That and a lot of confidence, apparently.

  “Do I? But you can't draw conclusions from just once. Do you want to come over here and try again?”

  “What? I… No, I think I’ll pass. I mean… We’ll just… You wouldn’t happen to have seen my dress, have you?”

  “I think it’s on that shelf over there.”

  “Oh… Oh, right. Strange place for… It’s soaking wet.”

  “I thought it might be.”

  “I… Well, I’m just going to go into the office and change.”

  “I need to change, too.”

  “Do you… have anything to change into?”

  “I don’t, but I was hoping you could come up with something.”

  Alyssa shook her head because what on earth could you say to something like that?

  “I… Well, not here, obviously, but I might have something that will fit you at home.”

  “That works for me. The rain is still quite heavy, but I’m sure you can navigate it.”

  “Wait, you’re coming home with me?”

  “Unless you have an objection and plan to kick me out, I hoped I might be able to go home with you, yes.”

  Alyssa gave up and ran for the office, where she thankfully kept her workout clothes. Now she was very glad that she rarely used them, because they were definitely clean, and thank heavens, they included underwear. She dressed quickly, checked her hair and winced before trying to get it to calm down a little, and finally went back out again.

  She wasn’t sure if she was relieved or disappointed to see that he'd managed to find
his pants and pull them on. He wasn’t wearing his shirt, though. She felt extremely plain in her yoga pants and her loose t-shirt, but he looked at her as if she was the answer to all his prayers.

  “You look lovely, Alyssa.”

  “I… Thank you. Well, I guess we’d better get going, then.”

  “I know you’re closed, but could I buy a bottle of wine? I thought we might share it, to celebrate.”

  She wasn’t entirely sure what they were celebrating. She wasn’t entirely sure just what the hell was going on, either. Well, she would have to just play it by the ear and figure it out, she decided, and nodded.

  “Sure, we can take a bottle. No, please, you can’t pay for it. It’s for me, too, isn’t it?”

  He beamed.

  “Of course. It’s for both of us. I like the sound of that.”

  All right, this was getting more than a little weird. She could handle it, though. Or so she thought.

  Alyssa found a bag for the bottle, managed to find her purse, gathered up their clothes for the washer, and considered.

  “Maybe you should put your shirt on.”

  “You ripped the buttons off.”

  “Oh… I did?”

  “You did.”

  “Well then, maybe the coat. And… Oh God, look at that. I’ll just mop that up before it stains.”

  She grabbed a mop, and efficiently cleaned the floor. She considered sanitizing it, too, but she thought perhaps it might come across as rude. Well, she could do it the next day. Whatever it turned out to be like, because she had no idea what was going on in her life at the moment.

  “You look very sexy with the mop in your hand, too.”

  Exasperated, she turned to him.

  “Look, that's enough. Knock it off.”

  He looked surprised.

  “Knock off what?”

  “Knock off the ridiculous compliments. Anyway, what do you mean I look sexy with a mop in my hand? What next? I’d look better pregnant and barefoot in the kitchen making you a sandwich?”

  “Would you like that?”

  “Oh, for heaven’s sake. If you keep that up, next time you can do the mopping.”

  “I’m so pleased you think there will be a next time.”