REINA
The doorbell rang at exactly eight, and my heart jumped like it knew what was coming before I did.
I’d spent the last hour getting ready slowly, deliberately, like every touch was for him. The burgundy dress clung to like a second skin—silk so thin it pressed tightly against my nipples every ti I moved, low enough to show the soft swell of my breasts, high slit parting with every step to tease the black lace thong underneath.
No bra. Just , bare and aching already. So ready for whatever Donico was planning to do with .
My hair loose in dark waves, lips painted deep red, my favorite perfu dabbed between my thighs, on my wrists, at the hollow of my throat. He would probably sniff right there later tonight.
When I opened the door, Donico stood there in charcoal wool and open collar, sleeves rolled to show the ink curling around his forearms. He looked like he’d been carved from midnight—tall, broad, dangerously beautiful.
His eyes hit and everything stopped.
He actually missed the next step. Foot hovering, then dropping awkwardly. He caught the railing with one hand, gaze dragging over —mouth, throat, breasts, hips, the slit in my dress that stopped right on my upper thigh. It would probably flash my lace thong and skin when I shifted.
His breath caught audibly, chest rising sharp.
"Reina..." His voice cracked, low and rough, like the sight of had punched the air out of him. "Jesus. You’re... fuck. I’m so fucked." He groaned out hungrily.
I smiled—slow, shy, a little wicked—and stepped forward just enough for the slit to part higher. If he should ride it just a little bit higher, he would probably see my soaked pussy.
"You like it?" I asked, twirling just a little.
He didn’t answer with words. He stepped closer, kicked the door shut, and had backed against it in one heartbeat. His mouth found mine—hot, deep, desperate. One hand cradled my jaw like I was fragile; the other slid down my body, palm cupping my breast through the silk, thumb circling my nipple until it hardened to a tight peak.
"You’re unreal," he whispered against my lips. "This dress... it’s fucking criminal. You’re killing , amore mio."
His hand dropped lower, slipping through the slit, fingers brushing the damp lace between my thighs. I whimpered when he pressed, slow and firm, right over my clit.
"Already so wet for ," he murmured, voice thick with awe. "And I haven’t even kissed you properly yet. Fuck!"
He dropped to one knee. Right there on my doorstep, shoving a little deeper against the door, night air cool against my flushed skin.
His hands slid up my calves—slow, reverent—pushing the silk aside until he bared my thighs. He pressed his mouth to the inside of one leg, open-mouthed kisses, tongue tracing higher, higher, sucking lightly until I felt the bloom of a mark.
My legs trembled.
"Fuck!" A whimper tore through my throat.
"You’re so beautiful," he breathed against my skin, voice raw and wounded. "So dangerously sexy. This dress makes want to tear it off you right here... fuck you against the door, or against my car right here in the open, where the whole street can hear you moan my na."
He kissed higher, tongue flicking the sensitive crease of my thigh. I gripped the doorfra, knees threatening to give up on .
Then he reached into his pocket and pulled out a delicate gold chain anklet—fine links, a single teardrop diamond that caught every light like a tear.
"For you, princess," he said softly, eyes lifting to mine.
He lifted my foot, slipped off one heel, kissed the arch, slow, lingering. Kissed the top of my foot. Then each toe—one by one—sucking the big toe into his mouth, tongue swirling slow and filthy while his gaze stayed locked on mine.
"Hmmph!"
I moaned, loud, broken, head falling back against the door. Fingers digging into the wood. The wet heat of his mouth sent lightning straight to my clit. My pussy clenched around nothing, slick dripping down my inner thigh.
He fastened the anklet around my ankle, kissed the chain, kissed the diamond, then sucked my toes again. It was so deliberate, obscene, reverent. My thighs shook, breath coming in short gasps.
Sothing cool and heavy brushed higher.
I looked down, chest heaving.
Donico held a short length of sleek black silk cord in his palm, from which dangled three heavy silver Ben Wa balls—each one perfectly round, mirror-polished to a gleaming shine, the size of large marbles, smooth and cool with a weighted inner orb that rolled freely inside.
The thin cord linked them in a neat row, ending in a small retrieval loop, swaying lightly like delicate jewelry as he lifted them toward .
My breath hitched. "What... what is that?"
His smirk was slow, dark, tender all at once.
"Turn around, baby."
Heart slamming against my ribs, I did.
He hiked the dress up over my ass, hooked his fingers in my thong, and dragged it down my thighs. Cool air kissed my dripping folds. I whimpered.
Donico pressed a wet kiss on my ass cheeks before coming up, gripping my waist so tightly I could feel his nails digging deliciously into my flesh.
"Open your mouth."
I parted my lips.
He slid the first silver ball past my lips—warm from his hand, heavy on my tongue. I sucked obediently, swirling around it, tasting tal and the faint salt of his skin.
He fed the second, then the third—making worship each one like a cock, eyes dark and burning as he watched my lips stretch, my cheeks hollow.
"Good girl," he rasped, voice wrecked with want.
He pulled them free from my mouth, shiny and wet with my spit and he moved his other hand, the one grabbing my waist, he moved to my thigh, rubbing lazy circles on my thigh as he pressed a warm kiss on my back.
"You’re so fucking wet. Fuck, I wanna drink your pussy juice." He growled, his teeth sinking into the exposed flesh on my upper back. He licked the mark he left on my back and then dropped to the floor on his knees.
Donico moved two fingers to part my pussy lips and then pressed the first ball against my entrance.
"AHH! Fuck! It’s so cold." I whimpered, wiggling my ass.
Donico chuckled, spanking my ass so hard the wet sound echoed around us. "What a slutty little thing."
I moaned, long, low, as he pushed the silver ball deeper inside my pussy. Slow. Letting feel every inch of the stretch, the weight settling deep. The second followed, filling fuller.
The third slid in with a wet sound, nestling heavy and perfect against my walls. The short rope dangled out, the end brushing my swollen clit.
He tugged my thong back up, trapping the balls inside . Every tiny shift made them roll—pressing, teasing, stretching.
Donico stood, pressed his chest to my back, lips at my ear.
"I want these stuffing your tight little pussy full the entire dinner," he whispered, voice low and filthy. "Every ti you move, every ti you cross your legs, every ti you take a sip of wine—you’ll feel them shifting inside you, reminding you who owns this cunt. And when we get back here later... I’m going to fuck you so deep, so hard, you’ll feel them for days."
I clenched around the heavy balls, already aching, already dripping down my thighs. My knees nearly buckled.
He kissed the side of my neck—soft now, almost sweet—then my shoulder, my collarbone.
"You okay?" he murmured, thumb brushing my cheek.
I nodded, breathless. "Yes, Daddy."
He helped fix my dress, smoothed the silk over my hips, kissed my forehead.
Then he took my hand—gentle, like I was precious—and led to the car.
Donico opened the door, helped slide in, buckled my seatbelt with careful fingers. As I settled into the leather seat, the balls shifted deep inside . I moaned softly, thighs pressing together.
Donico smirked, hand sliding back to my thigh, squeezing once.
"Good girl," he said, voice thick with pride and hunger. "Let’s go eat. I’m starving and I can’t wait to devour both of my als tonight." He said with a wink and I almost lost it.
Fuck! Did he just call his al?
He started the engine.
Every bump in the road, every turn, every stoplight made the silver balls roll inside —pressing against my walls, my g-spot, teasing my clit through the lace. By the ti we reached the restaurant I was trembling, panties soaked through, clit throbbing with every heartbeat.
He parked. Leaned over. Kissed slow and deep.
"You’re going to be such a good girl for tonight," he whispered against my lips. "Aren’t you?"
I nodded, eyes glassy.
"Yes, Daddy."
He smiled—dark, possessive, achingly tender.
"Then let’s see how long you can last before you beg to take you ho and fuck you senseless."
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