Amor En Italiano Novels & Stories

The deep masculine voice says from the call end. "Hello Pablo." He says with a slight grin on his face. *NOTE: The Italian language would be interpreted into English, in brackets.* "I received your offer and Lo adoro (I love it)." William smiles, "I'm glad you do, so do we have a deal?" "Of course we do. Considerami il tuo compagno di vita (Consider me your life partner.) William chuckles, "Thank you Pablo. Tu fai la tua parte e io farò la mia.(You just do your part, and I’ll do mine.)"

“You’ve always been my son.” In truth, she hadn’t been close to him. For years, she’d seen him as the product of something terrible, something that broke her. But now… now she saw him differently. She lifted him onto her lap. “You’re the one who doesn’t call me Mommy. Or even Mama,” she teased lightly. Devon looked up at her. “Do you know what Amor means?” “Huh?” “It means Love in Spanish.” “What?” she asked, eyes widening.

"That is not an answer." He runs a hand through his hair, frustrated. "She is the daughter of a business associate in Italy. Her father has significant influence in the fashion industry there." "And she calls you amore." "It is just an Italian term of endearment. It does not mean..." "Does she think you are together?" The pause before he answers tells me everything. "It is complicated," he says again. "You keep saying that." Hurt bleeds into my voice. "What does complicated mean? Are you with her? Is that why you were in Milan so much? Is that why..."

"Perhaps I'm just beginning to understand you, mia bella." Roslyn sipped her coffee, her eyes locked onto Leonardo's. "True love doesn't exist in this world." Leonardo chuckled, his eyes sparkling. "Maybe not in America, mia bella. But maybe in Italy." Roslyn raised an eyebrow. "You think Italian men are any different?" She recalled their previous conversation, where she had dismissed Italian men as boring. Leonardo's smile widened. "You said Italian men are boring, but He leaned in, his voice low and husky, speaking in Italian, "Ti renderò felice come non mai, mia bella" (I will make you happier than ever, my beauty).

****** TRANSLATIONS: Mio Prezioso: My Precious sono affamato: I am hungry Avrò tutti i gusti di te: I will have all tastes of you Deliziosa: Delicious Ti mangerò finché non mi pregherai di smettere: I'll eat you until you beg me to stop E indovina un po', non mi fermerò nemmeno allora: And guess what, I won't stop then either non ti muovere: Do Not Move

“I’m counting on it, cara.” I nodded, letting darkness swallow me whole. All thoughts of Adrian or my room disappearing. In my dreams, I felt Matteo kissed my forehead. "Sei bellissima, Cara. Meriti il mondo intero ai tuoi piedi e mi dispiace tanto per averti ferita. Ti amo." He still speaks Italian even in my dreams.

I stroke his cheek and kiss his lips. “I love you,” he says once our lips part. “I know,” I say to tease him. “I love you,” he says again. “I know. Put me down already before you hurt yourself.” He frowns. “I love you.” “I said I know.” “Fenice, I love you.” “Ti amo anch’io, mio idiota fidanzato. Tu sei l’amore della mia vita. (I love you too, my idiot fiancé. You are the love of my life.)”

He leaned into my ear to say the last part in his low and husky morning voice. A man's morning voice was definitely the sexiest thing I had ever heard and it made my cheeks burn as my heart did a cartwheel. "You also know Italian? " "Yes Bellissima is Italian for beautiful" "Can you teach me please... " "What do you want to know doll? " "Um... Basic greetings" "Okay Morning is buongiorno Sunshine is Luce del sole" "What does my stud muffin mean? " He stayed silent and I looked at his face to see a smirk dancing at his lips

“Yes to all your questions. I miss you babe.” “Yeah?” His voice dropped to a dangerously low octave that turned me on in one second. “Yes,” I forced out, placing my phone beside me as my hands strayed around my body, igniting the fire of intense arousal within me. “How much?” Alessandro husked. “How much do you miss me, vita mia?” God, something about the way he spoke Italian always scratched my brain in an erotic manner. His deep voice combined with his soulful pronunciation of those two words was such a deadly combination.

I pressed my lips into a thin line and answered, “When you saw me. You said something in Italian; what was it?” He could tell I was struggling to remember what it was from the smirk on his lips. I tried to remember what it was and spoke out, “I think it was sei… umm, sei something?” Adrian’s smirk deepened, his eyes flicking from the road back to me for the briefest second before returning forward. “Sei bellissima, amore,” he repeated, the words rolling off his tongue in the same smooth way. I blinked, my brows knitting together slightly. “And that means…?”