Page 47 of Corrupting Lily

We remain like this for a while until, finally, he takes my hand and leads me out of the bathroom and towards a door further down the passage into a large room. I am glad he doesn't press me for a reason for my mood, which I'm sure is pretty obvious. Dominico is very attuned to my emotions, which I despise and love.

“I need to change.” He opens a concealed wardrobe, pulling out jeans and a T-shirt—a drastic change from his suit. I turn around to face the other wall. The last thing I need is for my already addled brain to turn to mush at the sight of his body. We saw what happened when I let my guard down in that regard. Engaged.

His words from moments ago echo in my mind, and I once again hold up my hand, gazing at the ring with renewed admiration. It was a family heirloom he gave to me. Why?

“You gave me your mother's ring…” I say quietly, trying to understand.

“Yes. You will be my wife. This will remain in the family and be given to our son or daughter.” I spin around, shocked at his words spokenso casually, needing to confront him. Damn. He looks so fucking hot. My mouth dries as my gaze devours him. Stop. Lily. Focus, I rebuke, looking abruptly away and causing him to chuckle.

“Our son or daughter?” I squeak as heat creeps up my traitorous body. Thoughts of my belly being full with our babies are as appealing as how that would come to be. My willing pussy full of his seed.

“Or both. I want a big family,il mio fiorellino.” He circles the bed and pulls me against him as we fall onto it. With my head on his chest, I can hear the steady thump of his heartbeat. Mine races in overdrive, while his reflects a calm I envy. Does nothing affect him?

“Why are you doing this to me? What do you want with me?” Emotion that I thought I had kept at bay suddenly bubbles up due to my inebriated state, causing my words to come out choked. The sound of my vulnerability pulls tears from my eyes, soaking his shirt.

“I-I’m sick of being used. I just want…” I hiccup, but the words are more coherent than I expected.

“What do you want, Lily?” Dominico asks, his question shocking me. No one ever asked me what I wanted.

“I want…I want…” What did I want? I didn’t even know. The fact that I don’t know makes me sadder as the tears fall harder. While I couldn’t think of the big things I wanted related to me, I could at least focus on the man cradling me and rubbing my back reassuringly.

“I want to know you, Dominico.”

There is a long silence before he finally speaks.

“You know me better than anyone,il mio fiorellino.”

If that was indeed the truth, I felt terrible for him.

“It’s not enough,” I say honestly. My lack of confidence in how well I knew him left all of his actions open to a plethora of explanations, most of which did not bode well for me.

“Then we will remedy that.”

The alcohol swimming in my system, combined with his gentle strokes on my back, creates a drowsy concoction that I attempt to resist but cannot, ultimately failing as his words become lost in the darkness.

I don’t know how long I sleep, but when I wake, I still lie enclosed in Dominico’s strong arms. My eyes flare when I realize I have drooled on his shirt, the wet patch large and unsightly.

“Fuck,” I whisper, that word expressing both my discomfort at having my saliva drip out of my mouth willy-nilly and at the headache that pounds when I move.

How much champagne did I drink?

“Here, take these.” Dominico sits up and hands me two tablets and some water.

“I drooled on your shirt,” I state, pointing at it as if its coolness against his skin doesn’t give it away.

I’m blushing so hard that I can't turn any redder when he casually gets up, removes his shirt, and puts on another.

“Have we landed?” I ask when I realize the feeling of flying is no longer there.

“Yes. Hours ago. I was waiting for you to wake up.”

I splutter on the sip of water, so much so that Dominico gently taps me on the back.

“W-what? Why didn’t you wake me up?” I feel mortified. He has been waiting for me to wake up. Has everyone else just been hanging around?

“The shadows under your eyes have disappeared since we first met. I assume it’s because you are finally getting some sleep. I’m not going to interfere in that.” His words are spoken so matter-of-factly that my mouth hangs open as I process what he says.

“Wait,” I shake my head, the action costing me dearly as my temple throbs.

---