Page 39 of Stolen Queen

I lean in closer, intrigued by her fuzzy recollection. “How'd it feel?"

She gives me an irritated glare. "You know… nice, I guess."

"What part of it felt nice?” I’m dying to know just how she thinks I touched her.

She bites her lower lip. “All of it and… down there.” She points to her lap, shifting in her chair in a way that makes me think it’s not just embarrassment but arousal. My dick grows painfully hard.

"Have you ever been touched like that before?" My voice sounds husky even to me.

Ava shakes her head. "No.”

“Did you like it?" I ask bluntly. "Being touched like that?"

Ava's head snaps up, her eyes flashing with defiance. "No.”

It takes all my strength not to laugh. Despite her words, I can see the desire in her eyes, the way her breath catches slightly at the memory. She might deny it, but her body betrays her.

“Hmm, maybe I did it wrong. Did you come?”

She swallows. “Why do you want to know…? You were there.”

“Men have big egos. There’s no faster, more effective way to bring a man down than to tell him he’s bad in bed.”

She blinks, and I swear she feels bad for making me feel inadequate in bed. I should end this line of questions, but before I can, she says, “Yes.”

“Yes?”

“I came… or I think I did. I felt something.”

My dick is straining my pants. "Have you thought about it since then? About me touching you?"

“No.”

I study her for a moment, waiting for her to retract her lie. When she doesn't, I decide not to embarrass her more, so I say, “Well, it sounds like a lovely time. I wish I’d been there to enjoy it.”

Her brow furrows. “But…”

“The way I remember that night, that kiss… well… it was fucking fantastic. I wanted to fuck you, so much so that I had to show more restraint than I ever have in my life. I hated leaving after putting you to bed.”

She looks at me like she’s trying to decide how it’s possible I hadn’t touched her.

“But like you, Princess, I’ve dreamt about touching you ever since that night.”

15

AVA

Isit in stunned silence, my cheeks burning as I process Matteo's version of events. Could it be possible that what I thought happened was just a dream? The idea that I might have imagined our intimate encounter mortifies me to my core.

"I… I don't understand," I stammer, unable to meet his gaze. "It felt so real."

"Dreams often do, Princess." He winks at me.

I want to crawl under the table and disappear. To think I'd shared such intimate details with him, believing they were real memories. My stomach churns with embarrassment.

"So, you never…" I trail off, unable to finish the sentence.

"Touched you like that?" Matteo finishes for me. "No, I didn't. Though I'd be lying if I said I hadn't thought about it."

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