The Werewolf Prince and I (12 page)

Chapter Two

Dear Diary,

Is it right that my body burn up at just one look of his eyes? He’s so beautiful to look at that I fear it’s impossible for me to ever regain control of my body when he’s around. I’ve always thought I was frigid until I met Domenico Moretti. Now, I’m scared of the opposite. I’m afraid I’m a slut – always been so – a slut destined to find only pleasure with Domenico’s touch.

But it’s not the only thing I’m scared of. Sometimes, when he touches me, I catch a glimpse of tenderness. Even as I give up to the pleasure of his expert touch – that exquisitely all-encompassing feeling of reaching an orgasm which I never fail to reach even if he’s just thumbing my clit – oh, God, I’m scared. When he looks at me with that secret tender light in his eyes – a thrillingly sexy Domenico can command my body at will. But a tender Domenico can break my heart.

“We can’t just fly to Lake Tahoe!” Misty had a hard time keeping after him. The car ride had been spent mostly in silence on her part while Domenico had a furious-sounding conversation in the phone. Although it took place entirely in Italian, the number of times Domenico hissed out ‘Papa’ was clue enough of the identity of the person on the other end of the line.

Misty had not bothered looking out of the window during the ride, having assumed that Domenico was just being kind by taking her home. As such, it took her a while to truly appreciate that they were indeed leaving the state and that the limousine had parked right in the middle of an airport hangar.

“Of course we can,” Domenico answered as he took her hand and practically dragged her with him. “In fact, we already are.”

She watched him nod absently at the rows of uniformed guards standing on each of their sides, continuing all the way until the retractable stairs of the private jet that awaited them at the end. “You’re like a prince,” she blurted out.

Domenico looked at her oddly. “Of course I would. You know I’m a prince.”

“I know, but---” She sighed. “Never mind. You wouldn’t understand.” How could he when someone like Domenico Moretti would never have the chance to experience uncertainty or insecurity?

More bowing from the flight crew followed and everything became even more surreal.  What…was…she…doing….with…this…guy…really?

Panic hit her and she whirled around.

Domenico caught her before she could even take a step towards the closing doors. “Uh-uh. Where do you think you’re going?”

“I---”

Clasping her shoulders, Domenico turned her around and nudged her to walk forward. She did so until they reached a private cabin just before the cockpit. “Stay here while I get something from my office,” Domenico said as he made her take one of the plush seats in the area. “Just relax and enjoy the ride. There’s nothing to worry about, okay?”

Easy for him to say
, she thought even though she did her best to relax.

A short while later, a young man came out of the cockpit, smiling politely at her in welcome. He was tall and dark-haired, with a hint of Grecian features in his face. “Hello, ma’am.”

Embarrassed at being the object of a distinctly deferential tone, she said hastily, “Please just call me Misty. I’m…working for Domenico Moretti as well.”

The man’s smile widened, his dimples showing up this time. “I didn’t know. In that case, call me Ralph.”

A few minutes later, Domenico was about to call Misty’s name so she could join him in the office when he heard the familiar sound of her laughter. He paused, waiting. A deep chuckle followed, and Domenico stiffened, realizing that Misty was talking to the young pilot he had hired early this week. Ralph had impressed him with his maturity and dedication to the job, two rare features in one who was so young.

Jealousy, unexpected in its strength and presence, slithered its way into his heart.

It was in a Lyccan’s nature to be possessive, Domenico told himself as he made his way into the public cabin of the jet. “Ralph.” He nodded to the pilot, who quickly straightened and bowed. Ralph might be human, but he had been trained by Matteo himself to ensure that he displayed proper manners in front of Lyccan royals, which frequently made up the passenger list for his private jet.

“Let’s take off now,” he told Ralph and the pilot bowed once more before leaving.

Domenico took a seat next to Misty, conscious of how she was no longer laughing and irritated by it.

“Did you have fun speaking with Ralph?”

Misty glanced at him uneasily. “Was I not supposed to talk to him? I hope I didn’t get him in trouble. He was just explaining to me why you wanted a third pilot for the private jet.”

“You didn’t get him in trouble,” Domenico murmured even though he wondered why she would even care if she had. She was his. Did she need reminding of that?

She sighed in relief, which irritated him even more. “I’m glad. He seems nice.”

At that moment, Ralph walked back. “Sir, we’re taking off now.” The seatbelt light flashed red, indicating the need to secure themselves to their seats. Domenico waved the younger man away when he attempted to help Misty with her seatbelt.

“I can do it,” he said brusquely.

Misty inhaled sharply as Domenico reached for her seatbelt from her far side, his arm brushing against her breasts as he did. Surely he wasn’t deliberately---she inhaled sharply again when his arm brushed her nipples as he slowly drew the seatbelt diagonally over her body. Now there was no mistake about it. He was deliberately trying to arouse her, but why?

They sat next to each other, Domenico relaxed, Misty tense.

“Are you all right?” he whispered, turning his head slightly to face her.

Not daring to look at him, she croaked, “Yes.”

He did not speak again.

The seatbelt flashed green ten minutes later.

Ralph stepped forward with a smile. “Would you like to---”

But Domenico was already reaching for her seatbelt.

When he had it unlocked, she said breathlessly, “Thank you.”

“Thank me properly,” he returned huskily, making her eyes widen.

“H-how?”

“With a kiss.”

“D-Domenico!” She blushed when she glanced at Ralph, who now stood ramrod straight with an expressionless face.

In an unexpected flash of insight, Misty realized that the other man had actually liked her. With the exception of Domenico Moretti, no other guy had displayed an interest in her so early and quickly after meeting her for the first time. Was this because having someone like Domenico Moretti interested in her made Misty appear more attractive than usual?

“Misty,” the man next to her growled, and just like that she forgot all about Ralph. Domenico was looking at her with fierce hunger in his green eyes.

“Kiss me.”

Slowly, she moved close to him and touched his lips with hers.

It seemed the signal he had been waiting for. In one swift move, Domenico lifted her off the seat and pulled Misty into his lap. She gasped against Domenico’s lips but he didn’t let go. Angling his head to the side, Domenico was able to push his tongue further inside her mouth and with it, he swept aside her remaining reservations.

Her arms crept up on his chest before slowly curling around his neck. When he finally let her up to breathe, she looked around in bemusement for a moment. “The pilot?” 

“Don’t think of another man while I’m kissing you,” was all Domenico growled before kissing her again, more roughly this time as if he was punishing her.

But Misty didn’t mind. She was thrilled by his show of possessive jealousy, and her body immediately responded to the command. She moved closer, restlessly trying to find a way they could be one as quickly as possible.

She sighed when he flipped her around so that she could lie against his chest, and she sighed again as he nudged her thighs apart. Even though she was embarrassed, knowing how close the pilots’ cockpit was, she couldn’t stop her legs from falling open immediately.

Domenico tweaked her left nipple with one hand while the other went under her loose black skirt. “You’re already wet,” he rasped as he traced her slit over her panties.

She moaned silently.

“Are you wet for me or for the pilot?”

Eyes flying open at the question, she stammered, “Y-you.”

“Are you sure?” Domenico demanded as his fingers slowly slid inside her panties.

“Yes.” She barely got the word out before Domenico had ripped the tiny fabric away from her body.

“Domenicoooo.” She ended up moaning his name when he slid his fingers in, three at the same time once more. Misty was wet enough to accommodate his entry with ease, and she couldn’t help thrusting upward to meet his fingers more than halfway as Domenico pushed his fingers in and out of her in a rhythm that drove her wild.

“I want you to scream for me,” he said while working his fingers in and out faster and harder.

“I c-can’t…”

“Yes. You. Can.”

She moaned loudly when Domenico pushed his fingers as deep as he could without breaking her hymen.

“Are you ready?”

“Domenico,” she pleaded.

Domenico withdrew his fingers almost completely before pushing them back in just as his thumb found her clit and pressed her hard.

She screamed.

“I can’t believe we did that,” Misty couldn’t help but half-wail as Domenico led her to the private washroom between the public cabin and his office. She tried to take the small towel he was holding but he shook his head.

“Let me clean you up,” he said softly.

Misty squirmed, embarrassed and touched at the same time at Domenico’s unexpectedly tender ministrations.

“I love making you scream for me,” Domenico said, the satisfaction brimming in his voice more than audible. He straightened, tossing the wet towel into the laundry bin before opening the glass cabinet over the sink.

When he closed it, Domenico had a pair of panties packed and sealed in a silver foil bag. “I had this prepared in advance.”

“Th-thanks,” she mumbled as she took the underwear. Even though she knew it was silly of her to ask, after what had happened between them, Misty swallowed and inquired, “Could you turn your back while I put this on?”

Domenico grinned. “No.”

She glared at him. “You’re having fun with this, aren’t you?”

“Yes.” And so he watched her with unabashed delight as Misty pulled the panties up as quickly as she could.

“Spoilsport,” he murmured on their way out.

“Bully,” she retorted.

Laughing, he caught her arm and pulled her to the opposite direction when she was about to return to the public cabin. “We need to talk in my office first.”

Domenico’s office in his private jet was nowhere near his penthouse apartment in terms of size, but it more than made up with its beauty. Looking around her, with its soundproofed ceiling and walls and an amazing living room set, Misty knew she would never have guessed that this belonged to a yacht.

“Sit down,” Domenico said gently as he took her to the couch. When Misty was seated, he went to his desk and took two folders, handing one to her when he returned. Sitting opposite her, he said, almost defensively, “This is our prenup.”