Italian Audiobook Novels & Stories

Only smelled old woodsy smell and nothing gross like rotten flesh or skin. And so I flip it open. I blink once, twice at the words written on the first page. “What is this?” I flip through the book seeing more of the same gibberish writing. “Niko…” I hold the book out to him flopping down on the couch beside him. Looking away from his computer, he takes it from me, his eyes smiling as he pops it open between two fingers and reads the words out loud. “Le regole della famiglia.” “It’s written in Italian?” I blink at him.

I threw my head back against the pillow as I moved my fingers faster. Never in a million years would I have imagined I'd be touching myself to the sound of his voice and feeling extremely turned on at his words. With how carried away I was in the intense pleasure, it was even a miracle I was still holding my phone to my ear. “Cristo. Non fermarti. Ti piace, vero? Toccarti al suono della mia voce, sapendo che la tua fica è tutta mia,” he said in Italian. I could barely pick up what he said as I was too entranced by the feeling that took over.

Allowing myself to nuzzle into the feeling I suddenly hear a deep thick husky voice as they hoover just above my ear before speaking. “E ora di svegliarsi tesoro, abbiamo molte cose in programma per te stamattina (Time to wake up sweetheart, we have many things planned for you this morning)” whispers that same husky voice, their sweet Italian words ringing in my ear as they move to kiss my temple, my face attempting to hide within my pillow.

It seemed to work the trick as she went pages over pages. “Wow, che libro da leggere!” ( Wow, what a book to read! ) said a deep voice coming from her right. She glanced up and met a pair of green eyes looking down at her from his lofty height. The man was at least six feet. A worn pair of Levi’s resting low on his hips while a light blue collar shirt hugged his lean body. “Sei in una spiaggia. Perché non ti godi la splendida vista?” ( You are on a beach. Why don’t you just enjoy the beautiful view? ) “Pardon?” Ella shook her head as she tried to remember any Italian phrase that she knew or heard before. “Scusi? Mi dispiace. Io non parlo Italiano.” ( Sorry? I am sorry. I do not speak Italian

“Imagine having to constantly be in a room full of men in suits bored out of your fucking mind. Madden? Diventerebbe matto.” I tried to decipher what phrase he had said in Italian but I hadn’t been that far along in my Italian lessons yet. I had begun to take them only two weeks ago and was making good progress, but not good enough. Making a mental note to ask my tutor about it, I sighed heavily and laid my head in the pillow, listening to rustling sounds from the speaker of the phone. Mikael was silent but it wasn’t like he wasn’t there. I closed my eyes and his image was brought to mind.

I had been telling myself a lot of bad things lately. After the airport, the car ride was even quieter. Milan slipped by in silver streaks of rain, glass storefronts and the faint aroma of espresso wafted off coffee shops. I leaned my forehead to the window, and pretended to admire its view. Dante spoke one time. It was a short interjection in Italian, taut, clipped, and authoritative. Those were the type of voices people obeyed without realizing the reason for doing so.

[All I want is to be with you. I shook my head, my voice sarcastic. “Non ti stanchi mai di mentire.” [You’re never tired of lying.] Axel tilted his head backward, eyebrows furrowed slightly as his eyes widened. I stared at him, wondering what was running through his mind. “You speak Italian now?” He sounded surprised, and his tone when he asked almost made me chuckle, but I kept my countenance serious. “Why?” I asked. “Is it a bad thing?”

‘This is the life’ Jackie closed her eyes and took a long drink of her wine, ‘I think I am going to enjoy it here’ Dawn grinned as a group of young Italian guys sauntered over, Penso che a Dio manchino quattro dei suoi angeli più belli. Possiamo unirci a te e offrirti da bere?' [I think God is missing four of his most beautiful Angels. May we join you and buy you a drink?] Melissa laughed out loud, ‘lo adorerò qui' [I am going to love it here’] She replied in perfect Italian as the young men sat down.

Hours later… Professor Grayson entered the class auditorium and started with attendance. “Who here understands Italian best?“ He asked after the roll call. No one moved. No hands. He let out a small sigh. “Everyone. Introduce yourself in Italian,” he said, pointing to the first student. One by one, students stood. Some stumbled through their introductions, and some answered his questions fine. When I stood, he walked around the room, slow and smooth. “Mi chiamo Nick Walker, studio ingegneria informatica… (My name is Nick Walker. I study computer engineering…)

"Strange.Chiara ?That's Italian right?" The drawl in his deep baritone floated into my ears and played like a melody in my ears . "Yes it is and I'm Italian.How did you know?Many don't know that Chiara is infact an Italian name ." I missed , puzzled and he chuckled. "I like to think of myself as a well travelled man ." For some reason,I was relaxed around him.Maybe it was sthe alcohol or maybe it was the heady feeling of being sought after by a man that exuded power the way other men exuded perfume