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Misty, still sleeping, snuggled closer.
He had not asked for it, was doubtful he’d be able to return it, but he felt damned good about it. And Domenico knew he was going to do everything in his power to make sure that she’d never stop loving him. He couldn’t explain why it was important, but it was.
Chapter Six
Dear Diary,
Domenico wants me to work at the Lyccan Council, which is pretty much like the United Nations for his kind and where Domenico happens to be their version of Kofi Annan.
He says I can’t let people know I’m engaged to him just yet. His words make me feel like I’m his mistress. Just between you and me, I think it would be nice to act like his mistress – to simply submit to him completely and let him do as he will. I wonder if I offer myself to him, what would Domenico do? Would he take me from behind, finger-fucking my front while sliding his c**k into my other hole?
“Work at Lyccan Hall? Are you crazy?” Misty squeaked out the next day. They were once again ensconced inside Domenico’s now-familiar limousine when he told her of his plans.
Why was he always like this? Why couldn’t he even give her just the slightest warning? Sooner or later, she had to bring this up with him. It was neither fair nor right that Domenico continued having the upper hand in their relationship, if this was even a relationship to begin with.
“You are the only one I can trust to do this for me, Misty.”
Her shoulders slumped at that. When Domenico said that, what choice did she have?
“Besides, you need to be familiar with Lyccan society and what better way is there---”
“---than dumping me right into trouble?” she ended miserably.
Domenico laughed. He loved how Misty could look and behave exactly like a child without meaning to. At the moment, her face was all scrunched, as if she was a five-year-old punished to watching the History Channel rather than her favorite cartoon network.
She gazed out of the window and let out a gasp. “We’re already here!” The ornately sculpted letters of steel spelling out the words Lyccan Hall rested on top of the gates’ arch entrance. They swung open at the sight of Domenico’s limousine.
The driveway was expansive, meandering past meadows, a sparkling brook, and landscaped gardens with its own gazebos and pathways. Domenico pressed the intercom button. “Lento,” he told Matteo and the limousine immediately slowed to a snail-like pace.
Misty noticed the change, and turned to her questioningly.
Domenico suddenly pulled her into his lap, making her gasp, blush, and squirm. Then she stopped because she felt his erection pressing against her.
She could only look at him, unbelievably turned on at just the feel of his jutting c**k between her thighs.
Domenico suppressed his smile. “Is something wrong?”
She shook her head furiously even as her eyes were suddenly unable to meet his.
“Do you feel anything? Hot? Hard?”
Her eyes shot up to him.
A husky laugh escaped Domenico and he pulled Misty towards him. “I can’t wait for our wedding night,” he breathed against her lips before his tongue parted them open and swept inside her mouth.
One tiny part of Misty wondered how he could think about making out when he had just sentenced her to work in a strange, new world but the rest of her was too busy being overwhelmed with the passion of his touch.
“I want you to come before you get out of this car,” he whispered to her ear, deliberately blowing into it as he finished speaking just so he could feel her shiver. And shiver she did, Misty arching her body as well in his arms.
Domenico unhurriedly lifted her skirt waist high to expose her legs, his fingers immediately tracing her lacy panties. He was stunned when he felt her bare butt and realized she was wearing a thong.
“I wanted to surprise you,” she said shyly when his questioning gaze sought hers.
Domenico relaxed, deciding it was better for her not to know that he had doubted her for a moment.
“You more than surprise me, darling. You please me.” She was rubbing against him restlessly, and he couldn’t keep back a groan as his c**k strained toward her heat in response.
“Stop moving and let me please you,” he urged as he slid his fingers inside her panty.
“I can’t,” she cried out, raising her h*ps as if trying to chase his fingers. She moaned, loud and long, unable to help it, the pleasure of having his fingers back inside her was unbelievably intense.
Grabbing her hair to keep her head still, Domenico turned her to face him. After allowing himself a moment to savor the look of yearning on Misty’s face, he kissed her while thrusting his fingers in at the same time. He worked his fingers in and out of her furiously, making sure to rub her cl*t while he did. Misty came almost immediately, a keening cry coming out of her as he drove his fingers in so deep he brushed against her hymen.
She collapsed against him like a limp doll, quietly letting him fix her clothes for her. It was impossible for her brain to work when he was this close, holding her---
And then the next thing she knew, Domenico was setting her out of the car. “Good luck. I’ll have the car pick you up later.” He patted her head like a kid and then he was gone, leaving her staring open-mouthed.
THAT WAS IT?
She didn’t know if she wanted to curse him or beg him to come back. With shaking legs, she made herself walk past yet another parade of expressionless guards, the sight of them reminding her of those posted in Domenico’s home. But they wore different colors this time – red and black, which she supposed were the official colors of the Lyccan Council.
The guards opened the doors for her without a word.
Her heart dropped to her feet just as the doors swung shut with a loud thud behind her.
Lycan Hall was even vaster than it appeared outside, with a domed ceiling she was only used to seeing in cathedrals. The official seat of the Lyccan Council had a majestic and timeless feel to it, and surrounded as she was by Lyccans, Misty had a very strong urge to run away – and never come back.
Everyone around her was so gloriously sensual. Not beautiful really. Instead, the women were lushly attractive while the men were magnetic and alluring. Every move they made was underlined by grace and strength at the same time, and it made Misty feel more a klutz than ever.
She gulped. She stuck out like a sore thumb here without even trying, a sour lemon in a land filled with ripe exotic fruits.
Misty slowly made her way to reception counter. The woman behind it smiled at her. “Good morning. How may I help you?”
