by Marian Tee
Domenico went to the living room and the family followed behind him.
Misty shook her head. Domenico was already being a leader to her siblings, and they didn’t even know it.
He settled at the foot of an armchair, which Misty quickly occupied, with the baby slowly settling to sleep in her arms.
“Did you buy him?” Nicole asked dubiously.
She understood Nicole’s doubt. They all knew she hated spending money needlessly, and for all intents and purposes having a dog was exactly that: an unnecessary expense. Misty also realized that Nicole’s question was the opening she needed.
“Actually, someone gave Aristotle to me.”
Everyone stared at her in shock.
“You have a boyfriend?” Kelly asked tentatively.
“Boyfriend,” Andy repeated the word distastefully, making everyone laugh.
“Actually…”
“Whenever Misty says ‘actually’, it’s almost always a good thing,” Nicole said. “I mean, a good bad thing. Like the time she told us we could be absent from school--”
“Or the time she told us to forget about saving money once,” Kevin added.
“Hey!” Misty protested. “I’m not sure if you’re insulting or complimenting me.”
“The latter, of course,” Nicole said, eyes twinkling. “We’re just saying that you tend to feel guilty whenever you let us do things like that.”
“So what’s this actually about?” Kelly demanded.
Misty decided to speak plainly. “I’m getting married.”
Everyone burst into laughter.
“No, really, I am!”
The laughter immediately stopped.
“T-to who?” Nicole was pale.
“To my boss.” And because she knew they’d ask how, when, and where it happened and she knew lying would only make things stranger, she decided to be as honest as she could. “I can’t explain how it happened. I just know that I trust him and that I l-love him.” She blushed right after she said that. She deliberately avoided Domenico’s gaze after saying the words.
After their initial shock, her family warily accepted the news. Misty steadily assured them that they’d still be together, but she could see they only half-believed her. Still, they were a good bunch and it seemed like everyone mutually decided to just change the subject. Soon enough, they were back on normal footing, teasing each other.
Misty managed to get everyone to bed at half past midnight, with Kevin carrying Andy to the room he shared with Nicole. “Where’s the dog sleeping?” Nicole asked, yawning.
Misty blushed again. “Uh, in m-my room.”
“Okay.”
Misty locked the door behind her. Turning around, she saw Domenico still in his wolf form. “Are you going to change back?”
Domenico shook his head.
She didn’t know what to make of that but nodded anyway.
When Domenico was sure Misty was asleep, he changed. Fully naked, he got into the bed and wrapped his arms around her from behind before pulling the covers over them. It was the first time for him to feel simply content holding a girl in his arms. Lying on the bed, which was the smallest and most uncomfortable he had ever slept on, Domenico dwelled on the memories he had of Misty and her siblings spending their time together. Hers was a happy family, and it inevitably reminded him of how his family had been – before Danilo died.
Eventually, his mind drifted to the words she used for explaining his presence in her life.
She loved him, he thought, absently stroking her hair.
He had known the words were true the moment she uttered them.
And he had been elated, triumphant, and – strangest of all – humbled, too.
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 and let him do as he pleases. 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 cock 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 to have 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 to do that --”
“-- than dumping me right in the middle of it?” 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 up, as if she was a five-year-old getting punished by being made to watch the History Channel rather than her favorite cartoon.
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’ arched 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 their 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 him 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 cock 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.
A 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 passion from his touch.
“I want you to come before you get out of this car,” he whispered into 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 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 cock strained towards her heat in response.
“Stop moving and let me please you,” he urged
as he slid his fingers inside her panties.
“I can’t,” she cried out, raising her hips 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 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 clit while he did. Misty came almost immediately, a keening cry bursting 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 outside 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. These guards wore different colors – 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.
Lyccan Hall was even more enormous than it had 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 like a klutz than she ever had before.
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?”
Recalling Domenico’s earlier instructions, she stammered, “I’m, um, here to see Mr. Filippo Cavalier.”
“Do you have an appointment, Miss--?”
She gave her name, adding, “I was sent by Mr. Domenico Moretti to serve as his substitute secretary.” Misty did not miss the way the woman’s eyes widened at the mention of Domenico’s name. Bad or good? It was impossible to tell for now.
“One moment, please.” The receptionist made a call, murmuring something in a language she guessed was something that belonged to Lyccans alone. After ending the call, she looked back at Misty with a blank face. “Someone will be down shortly to accompany you.”
The woman excused herself right after.
Misty’s gaze followed her and she tried not to mind when the woman whispered something to her fellow receptionist, who then looked at her with wide eyes before whispering to the other woman next to her.
It was a cycle, and soon everyone – from employees to guests – was staring at Misty.
What had she done?
“Misty Wall?”
She whirled around to find a tall woman with long black hair and a stick-thin figure sheathed in a red dress looking at her in contempt.
Misty smiled uncertainly. “Hello, I’m--”
The other woman didn’t let her finish. “You’ve been sent by Domenico?”
This time, Misty really looked at her, noting the hard glint in the woman’s dark eyes and the supercilious curl of her lip. This woman was on first name basis with Domenico? She was very – for lack of a better word - aggressive. It was the first thing people would likely notice about her.
Her face was too hard and angular to be called pretty. A handsome woman, more like. An unbelievably sexy handsome woman, Misty corrected herself silently, taking note of the hourglass figure.
“Are you deaf?” the woman snapped.
Misty flushed. “I’m sorry. I, uh, yes…I was sent by --”
The woman cut her off again. “Come with me.”
They took the elevator to the penthouse floor, the woman sniffing at her throughout the brief journey. When they stepped past the glass doors leading to the expansive office inside, Misty tried not to mind how people here were still staring at her and, by the looks of it, sniffing at her, too.
Misty tucked her hair behind her ears, using it as a way of avoiding their gazes.
“Feeling self-conscious?” the woman asked snidely.
Instead of answering, she said, “I don’t think I caught your name--”
The other woman appeared livid at her question.
Misty cringed. “I’m sorry. I really didn’t catch it.”
“It’s Rebecca, but as far as you’re concerned, you may call me Ms. Findley and that’s it. I don’t associate with women like you.”
Misty blinked. “Women like me?” She would have understood the contempt if she had been dressed in her usual clothes, but Misty knew she looked more than presentable today. Mark’s taste in clothes was excellent, with an eye for both quality and fit. Her two-piece charcoal suit cost a fortune, and the bag and shoes Mark had also picked out for her were just as pricey.
Eyes boring through her, Rebecca hissed, “We all know you’re Domenico’s latest mistress.”
Four hours later, Misty locked herself in a restroom cubicle and pressed her fists to her eyes. This was hell.
She was not a secretary here. That woman – Rebecca – had made her the mail girl. It wasn’t that bad really, if only she wasn’t wearing three-inch heels (because she had wanted to make a good impression) and she didn’t have to visit each floor of the building to deliver and receive mail. It wouldn’t have been that bad if half of the people weren’t looking at her like she was the most despicable insect, wouldn’t have been that bad if the other half weren’t looking at her like she was a frog to be dissected.
She sighed.
Too bad her old mantra “I need my job” wouldn’t work in this case.
She so badly needed a mantra, but she couldn’t think of any at the moment.
With still forty-five minutes left of her lunch break, Misty climbed all the way to the rooftop, foregoing the elevator because she was less likely to bump into anyone by taking the stairs. One of the council’s employees had told her that the rooftop area was quite private, having caught sight of her red-rimmed eyes.
When she reached the rooftop, Misty knew right away it was perfect for her. It had old benches scattered around and there were also dozens of trees and flowering plants growing from garden beds, which lent the place a serene atmosphere one usually wouldn’t find in the middle of Miami.
Misty stood at one corner, eyes closed, enjoying the breeze, and savoring the freedom from all those prying and contemptuous eyes.
“May I join you?”
Her eyes flew open and she stiffened when she saw a tall man in a suit looking at her curiously. He seemed close to her age, with hair that turned copper under the sun, fair skin, and laughing gray eyes. He was sensually gorgeous like Domenico, but it wasn’t the same. He couldn’t hold a candle to Domenico’s swoon-worthy looks as far as Misty was concerned.
She smiled politely. “Of course.”
Jayme Cavalier studied the woman everyone was saying was Domenico Moretti’s newest mistress. It could be true, considering how she had Moretti’s scent all over her, but her appearance shocked him. In spite of her impeccable clothes, she was still ordinary.
She didn’t seem to be Moretti’s taste at all, with her windswept hair, makeup-less face, and of course – who wouldn’t be able to notice those curves? He always saw the older Lyccan dating o
nly stick-thin blondes so it behooved and intrigued him to find out exactly what attracted Moretti to the slip of a girl in front of him.
And of course, there was the fact that Misty Wall was human. She was the first of her kind that Domenico had introduced to Lyccan society. Most Lyccans saw humans as pets, worthy only of meaningless affairs. As far as Jayme knew, Moretti had never indulged in human relations until now. Could she be that good in bed?