REINA
Warmth. That was the first thing I felt as consciousness slowly pulled back into the world. A soft, wet heat surrounding my left nipple, gentle suction that sent lazy sparks of pleasure through my still-heavy body. My eyes fluttered open, adjusting to the morning light filtering through sheer curtains. I was in Donico’s bedroom—his massive bed, silk sheets tangled around my naked body. I didn’t rember how I got here. The last thing I recalled was falling asleep on the couch in his arms, exhausted and emotionally raw. He must have carried , cleaned up... taken care of while I was lost to the world.
And now, here he was.
Donico lay beside , propped on one elbow, his dark hair tousled from sleep. His mouth was latched onto my breast with such tender devotion that my breath caught. His eyes lifted to et mine the mont I stirred, and the smile that spread across his face was breathtaking—beautiful, almost boyish in its happiness, yet laced with that intense possession I’d co to both fear and crave.
"Good morning, my love," he murmured against my skin, his voice husky with sleep and desire. He didn’t pull away imdiately. Instead, he gave one more slow, deliberate suck before releasing my nipple with a soft, wet pop. "I woke up and saw how full they looked. So heavy. So beautiful. I thought they might be hurting you again like last night."
I glanced down. My breasts did look different—fuller, the veins more visible beneath the skin, a subtle blue tracery that hadn’t been there before. They ached with a deep, tender weight. A nervous flutter twisted in my stomach, sharp and insistent. What does that an? The question scread in my head, but I swallowed it down, forcing my face to stay neutral.
"They... feel sensitive," I whispered instead, my voice still rough from all the moaning and crying the night before.
Donico’s fingers traced the curve of one breast reverently, as if it were sothing sacred. "They’re getting bigger, Reina. Heavier. The veins... they make them look even more irresistible. Like your body is blooming just for ." He leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to the side of my breast, then another to my nipple, making shiver. "If they’re painful, let take care of them. I could spend all morning like this—worshipping you."
The romance in his tone, the way his eyes drank in like I was the only thing that mattered in his universe, made my heart clench. Part of wanted to lt into him. Another part—the panicked, guilty part—wanted to run. But my body betrayed again, a fresh warmth pooling between my thighs despite the raw ache there.
I sat up slowly, pulling the sheet around my waist. "I need a bath first," I said, trying to sound firm. "Before breakfast. Make sure my al is ready by the ti I’m done."
His smile widened, indulgent and loving. "Of course, amore mio. Whatever you want." He reached for the phone on the nightstand without hesitation, dialing quickly. As it rang, he kept one hand on my thigh, stroking lazy circles that felt both soothing and possessive.
"Chef," he said when the line connected, his voice smooth and commanding. "Prepare breakfast for two. Sothing special this morning. Reina will tell you exactly what she wants."
He handed the phone, his eyes sparkling with amusent and affection. I took it, my mind suddenly swirling with strange, intense cravings that felt foreign even to .
"Hello," I said, clearing my throat. "I’d like... avocado toast, but with pickled onions and a drizzle of chocolate sauce. And mango slices with chili powder. Oh—and a spinach olette with strawberries inside. And ginger tea. Very strong ginger tea."
The chef on the other end hesitated for just a second. "...Certainly, ma’am. Anything else?"
"Maybe so yogurt with... sardines? No, wait—pickles and ice cream. Just a small bowl." The words tumbled out before I could stop them. They sounded ridiculous even to my own ears. Why was I craving these bizarre combinations? My stomach twisted again, but not entirely unpleasantly.
Donico didn’t laugh. He simply watched with that sa adoring expression, like my every whim was precious. When I handed the phone back, he relayed the full order without a hint of judgnt. "You heard her. Make it exactly as she asked. And add fresh orange juice with a touch of mint." He hung up and turned back to , cupping my face gently. "Your cravings are adorable. They suit you—unexpected, bold, sweet with a kick. Like your heart."
His words wrapped around like a warm blanket, stirring that confusing mix of emotions again. I felt tears threatening, but I pushed them back. "Let’s bathe," I said softly.
He insisted on carrying to the bathroom, even though I could walk. His arms felt safe, strong, and I hated how much I leaned into his chest. The bathroom was warm, a deep soaking tub already filling with steaming water that slled of lavender and rose. He lowered into it carefully, then joined , kneeling behind so he could wash himself.
"Relax, amore," he whispered, pouring warm water over my shoulders. His hands glided over my skin with soap, massaging gently. "You were so incredible last night. Giving yourself to like that... trusting with your pleasure, your tears. I ant every word I said. You are my dream. My only love."
I closed my eyes, letting his voice and touch wash over . The water felt heavenly on my sore muscles, but as his hands moved lower, cupping my heavy breasts again, a wave of nausea hit hard. My stomach churned violently.
"Donico..." I started, but it was too late.
I lurched forward, gripping the edge of the tub as everything ca up—violent, sudden vomiting that left gasping and shaking. The strange breakfast I’d just ordered flashed in my mind, but this was happening now, before any food had arrived. Tears stung my eyes from the force of it.
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