Page 40 of Stolen Queen

His admission sends a jolt through my body.

"But we did kiss," I say, half-statement, half-question.

Matteo nods. "We did. And then I helped you back to your bed before anyone noticed you were gone."

I close my eyes, trying to separate reality from fantasy. The kiss was real, but everything after… My imagination had runwild, fueled by the alcohol and… desire. Even in my dreams, I’m pulled toward Matteo. I feel like such a fool.

"I'm sorry," I whisper, still unable to look at him. "I shouldn't have assumed…"

"Hey," Matteo says softly, reaching across the table to tip my chin up. "You have nothing to apologize for. We all have dreams, Ava. Some are just more vivid than others."

His touch sends a shiver down my spine, reminding me of how my body responded in that dream. I pull away, overwhelmed by the conflicting emotions swirling inside me.

“You didn’t want me…” God, why am I still talking about this?

“Hell yeah, I did. I had to go home and stroke one off, I wanted to touch you so bad.” His words both shock and excite me.

“I didn’t that night because it wasn't right. You were drunk, and I'm not that kind of man."

His words should reassure me, but instead, they leave me feeling confused and oddly disappointed. Part of me wants to believe him. It paints him in a noble light, after all. But another part clings desperately to those memories, not wanting to let them go.

The full realization of what I've just admitted hits me. I clap my hands over my face in horror. I just told Matteo Moretti that I had a sex dream about him. My face burns with embarrassment, and I want nothing more than for the floor to open up and swallow me whole.

To my surprise, Matteo's laughter fills the air. It's rich and warm, not at all mocking. I peek at him through my fingers, still too mortified to fully face him.

"Don't look so horrified, Princess," he says, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "I'm actually flattered. It’s nice that a beautiful woman like you is having sexy dreams about me."

His words send a fresh wave of heat through my body, and I squirm in my seat. How can he be so nonchalant about this?

I stand up abruptly, needing to escape. "I… I need some air.”

I turn to flee, but Matteo's hand shoots out, capturing mine in a firm grip. "Ava, wait.”

I freeze, torn between the urge to run and the electric current running through me at his touch.

He stands. "Look at me.” The crook of his finger lifts my chin.

Reluctantly, I raise my gaze to his. The intensity I find there takes my breath away. There's no mockery in his expression. Instead, I see a hunger that both thrills and terrifies me.

"There's nothing to be embarrassed about. We can't control our dreams."

I swallow hard, acutely aware of how close we're standing. I feel the heat of him radiating in waves. His scent is alluring, intoxicating.

“I shouldn’t have said anything.”

“Why not? It’s normal.” His thumb brushes against my cheek. His touch is gentle, but it ignites a fire within me. My skin tingles where his hand rests.

“Most people aren’t brave enough to share their intimate thoughts or dreams.” His words aren’t really helping, and yet I lean into his palm, craving more contact.

“I’m sorry I laughed. I wasn’t laughing at you. I was laughing because I’m delighted by you. How you speak what’s in your mind and heart.”

His words wash over me, igniting a warmth that spreads through my body.

“Would it help if I told you I have the same dreams about you? Hell, sometimes I’m awake and think of you.”

Finally, I’m brave enough to truly look him in the eyes. “Really?”

"I think of you more than I should. You haunt me day and night.”

---