Make Me Moan, Daddy-Chapter 31

REINA

Morning came slow, the light sneaking through the curtains and landing soft on my face. I didn’t move for a while.

Just lay there, staring at nothing.

Caught between sleep and wakefulness, the scent of him still clinging to my skin—dark, expensive, familiar. Domenico’s arm was heavy across my waist, his breath deep and unhurried against the back of my neck. It wasn’t supposed to feel peaceful, not here, not in his bed. But somehow, it did.

The sheets were soft, warm with his body heat. Every inch of the room whispered him, the order, the stillness, the kind of quiet that made you forget there was a world outside.

I turned my head slightly. He was still asleep, face softened by the pale light, lashes brushing against his skin. It was strange, seeing him like that. The man who commanded rooms with silence now lay here beside me, looking almost innocent.

Almost.

Carefully, I slipped from beneath his arm, the mattress dipping under my weight as I rose. My legs felt heavy, my chest tight with something I couldn’t name. I stood for a moment, watching him.

This was the first morning in months I’d woken up without resentment.

And somehow, that terrified me more than the anger ever had.

I padded into the bathroom, the marble cool beneath my feet. I splashed water on my face, trying to wash away the heaviness in my chest, the memories of last night—the way he’d looked at me, touched me, held me as if I was something precious.

It wasn’t supposed to mean anything.

It wasn’t supposed to feel like this.

When I lifted my head, my reflection looked back... eyes tired, lips soft and swollen, hair falling loose around my shoulders. His shirt hung off me, swallowing me whole, smelling like his cologne. For a second, I just stared. Then I reached for the buttons, undoing them slowly until the fabric slipped down my arms.

"When did he leave these marks on my thighs?" I bit back a grin as I stared at the bike marks that had decorated my inner thighs like blooming flowers.

It was strange how something so simple could feel like reclaiming myself.

I folded the shirt neatly and set it aside, then changed into my own clothes—the old ones I’d brought back from my aunt’s house. Faded jeans. A simple blouse. It felt grounding, like slipping into an older version of myself I’d almost forgotten.

When I left his room, the house was quiet, except for the faint echo of footsteps from somewhere down the hall. I made my way through the long corridor, past the tall windows and paintings that stared back like silent witnesses.

The morning air outside was crisp as I crossed the courtyard to my own building—the one I share with Paolo. The air shifted there, different from the main house, lighter somehow. I showered again quickly, dressed properly, and brushed my hair back into a simple ponytail.

Today wasn’t supposed to be about him.

It was supposed to be about me.

Going back to school wasn’t just a plan—it was a promise I’d made to myself. I needed something normal, something untouched by all the madness that had swallowed my life just recently.

When I was ready, I made my way back to the main building, as if I hadn’t slept here overnight. Breakfast was always served there—grand and formal, even when it didn’t have to be.

The air carried the scent of freshly brewed coffee, truffle omelets, and something sweet—maybe vanilla pastries—long before I reached the dining room.

"Good morning, signora," one of the maids greeted softly as I entered.

"Morning," I replied with a small smile.

Domenico was already there. Of course he was. He sat at the head of the long dining table, dressed in a black shirt and slacks, reading something on his phone. He looked up as soon as I walked in, and for a moment, something almost gentle flickered in his eyes.

"You’re up early," he said, his voice still low, roughened by sleep.

Fuck! That voice did something crazy to my pussy. God, not again! Not after everything we did hours ago.

"I could say the same," I answered, taking a seat a few chairs down.

It was just us. Just the two of us.

"I don’t sleep much." He set his phone aside, nodding at one of the servants, who immediately poured coffee into the cup before me. "You look... different this morning."

I raised an eyebrow. "Different?"

He studied me for a second, then smiled faintly. "Peaceful."

Was this man flirting with me right now? In front of the maids?

I wasn’t sure what to say to that. I looked down at my coffee instead, letting the warmth of the cup steady me.

"Did you rest well?" he asked, almost casually.

I hesitated. "I did."

"Good." He leaned back slightly, fingers tapping lightly against his mug. "So, what would you like to do today?"

The question caught me off guard. It was such a simple, ordinary thing to ask, yet coming from him, it felt... personal.

"I—" I paused, searching for the right words. "Actually, I have something I need to do today."

He tilted his head, curious. "And what’s that?"

"I’m going back to school."

His expression froze for a second, then softened into something unreadable. "School?"

I nodded, brushing a loose strand of hair behind my ear. "It’s been a while. I took a break, but... I’m ready now. Classes resume today."

He went quiet, eyes still on me. I could feel his gaze, heavy but not unkind. "You didn’t tell me."

"I didn’t think I had to."

"I would’ve made arrangements," he said simply. "You shouldn’t have to worry about things like that."

"I’m not worried." I smiled faintly. "It’s just school, sir. Besides, my husband had already taken care of everything before he left for business."

Domenico’s eyes darkened, his grip on the fork tightened and when I cleared my throat, to let him know we weren’t alone, he sighed. Shoulders sagged in defeat.

"Nothing in your life is just anything," he said, a hint of amusement softening his tone. "Let me drop you off. I can do that much, can’t I?"

I shook my head immediately. "No, that’s not necessary. I can drive myself."

He frowned slightly, as though the idea didn’t sit well with him. "I’d prefer if you didn’t go alone."

"Domenico—"

Before I could argue further, a familiar voice spoke from behind me. Coming from the entrance door and a wave of déjà vu washed over me.

"I’ll take her, sir."

I turned to find Calestino standing in the doorway, hands clasped neatly behind his back. He gave me a small nod, polite as always.

Domenico didn’t look surprised. "You’ll see her there and back," he said, his tone slipping into that quiet authority that filled every room he was in.

"Yes, sir."

"I can handle myself," I muttered, though it came out softer than I intended.

"I know," Domenico said, meeting my eyes. "But it’ll make me feel better to know you’re safe."

There was something so earnest in the way he said it that I didn’t have the heart to argue.

"Fine," I relented.

He smiled faintly, pushing his chair back and rising. "Good. Then it’s settled."

He walked around the table, stopping beside me. For a second, his hand brushed lightly against my shoulder—barely there, but enough to make me look up.

"You’ll call when you get there?" he asked.

I hesitated, then nodded. "I will."

"Good." His voice softened, almost a whisper. "I like knowing you’re safe."

I looked at him for a moment, words tangled somewhere between my chest and my throat. Then I simply said, "Thank you."

He gave a small nod, the corner of his mouth lifting in something that wasn’t quite a smile but wasn’t cold either.

As I stood, he watched me quietly, his gaze following me until I disappeared through the doorway with Calestino close behind. The morning sunlight streamed in through the tall windows, catching the glint of his watch, the stillness in his stance.

And just before I stepped outside, I felt it again... that strange pull in my chest. The sense that no matter how far I went, something of him would always stay with me.