He squeezed her breast through the gown.
The milk let down immediately — a sudden, warm flood that soaked the white fabric in two dark, spreading circles around her nipples. The fat tit compressed under his grip, heavy and full with the weight of pregnancy, and she cried out — a short, sharp sound that made the women in both rows flinch.
"Call me Lord," he said.
Meera's breath hitched.
"Lord," she said. The word came out broken, half-swallowed. "I... I understand, Lord."
He chuckled.
The sound was low and warm and it moved against her wet cunt through the fabric.
"Have you used your powers yet?" he asked.
She shook her head, dark hair falling around her face.
"I did a bit," she said. "On the island. On Avriana's leg. But not too much. I was... I was saving them."
"For what?"
"For... for when you needed them, Lord."
He twisted her nipple.
