Taken by the Billionaire in Rome

By Kayden Jones

This is a standalone insta-lust age-gap romance novella with a lot of steam.

He says I am his and he means it.

I don't know what to do with my life and decide to spend some time backpacking in Europe. And then I get lost in Rome and accidentally bump into the hottest older billionaire in the universe!
***
I drown in his blue eyes and everything changes. He makes me feel so safe, so secure, and it feels so good to just do what he wants... and he wants me, my body, my obedience.
***
It feels like I am not ready to give up control over my life, to submit to him completely, and I run away. But he finds me and snatches me from my dreary existence and it feels so damn good to finally become his property...

For adult eyes only. All characters are over eighteen.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Kayden Jones
• Release date: Mar 8, 2024
• ISBN: 9798223954422

Kayden Jones

Kayden had a lot of adventures during her teenage years and a lot of fun with dominant older men. Now she writes about these adventures in her books unless she is busy getting seduced by another older alpha!You are guaranteed to find a lot of dominant older men and submissive young women on the pages of her books, so grab a copy and enjoy![e-mail]

Book preview

Taken by the Billionaire in Rome

OMYW Spicy Romance Novella

Kayden Jones

Copyright © 2024 Kayden Jones

All rights reserved

The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.

No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the publisher.

Contents

Title Page

Copyright

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter One

Iweave through the cobbled streets of Rome, each stone a relic from a time I've only read about in books. The ancient city wraps around me like a maze, its narrow alleyways leading to yet more enigmatic turns. My breath quickens—partly from excitement, partly from fear. It's a heady mix, this feeling of being completely untethered from everything that once defined me.

I spent last six months backpacking through Europe, hoping that it would somehow help me understand what to do with my life after getting that useless college degree.

So far, it wasn’t working.

Excuse me, I call out timidly to a passing local, but my plea for directions falls on ears that don't understand my urgency—or my language. I'm lost, truly lost, and as I glance at my phone, the screen flickers and dies. Panic clutches at my chest; the bustling streets suddenly feel sinister, the shadows stretching out like fingers ready to swallow me whole.

Per favore, I try again, my voice cracking with desperation, but the faces blur into a sea of indifference. The vibrant allure of Rome has turned into an overwhelming labyrinth, and I am Theseus without a thread.

I turn into an alleyway and collide with something solid—a man. An apology leaps to my lips, but it freezes there as I look up into the face of authority and confidence incarnate. He stands before me, a vision of mature seduction—the kind that whispers of experience and control. His salt-and-pepper hair is styled to perfection, and his tailored suit hugs his frame in a way that suggests power restrained.

Are you okay? he asks, his voice deep and resonant.

Y-Yes, I stammer, immediately feeling foolish for my disarray. I'm just... I'm lost.

John Anderson, he introduces himself with a hand outstretched, and when our palms meet, a jolt of electricity surges through me. His grip is firm, asserting a silent promise of guidance.

American, I breathe, relief washing over me. John nods, a half-smile tugging at his lips, and I find myself drawn to the crinkles that form at the corners of his piercing blue eyes. They speak of laughter and wisdom, but also something darker—an intensity that beckons me closer.

Looks like we're in the same boat then, he says with a hint of amusement. On business here, but I live in New York. Let's see if we can get you back to your hotel.

Thank you, I reply. As I trail behind him, my gaze lingers on the broad set of his shoulders, the confident stride of his walk. He exudes an animalistic energy that sets my pulse racing, a dominance that I crave without understanding why.

Keep close, he calls back to me, and I hasten my steps. In his presence, I feel vulnerable yet paradoxically safe—like a moth drawn irresistibly to a flame that promises warmth despite the danger.

The crowd get thicker and now John's hand rests lightly on the small of my back as we navigate the thronging piazza. My skin tingles beneath his touch, an unexpected comfort amidst the chaos of Rome.

Watch your step here, he says, guiding me past an artist spilling vibrant oils onto canvas. I'm caught in the web of John’s confidence, and I can't help but lean into him just a little more.

Come, he instructs, pointing to a gelato vendor. Questo è gelato. You must try it. The word curls deliciously in my ear, and I echo it, tasting the foreign sounds. He buys us each a cone, and as the cold sweetness bursts on my tongue, he watches with an approving glint in those blue eyes.

Good, isn't it? he asks, and I nod, too enraptured by the flavor