You clutched your stomach, occasionally rolling around in bed as your menstrual cramps attacked you from the inside. Your boyfriend, or mate, as he called himself, Swiss, walked into your shared bedroom.

Seeing you writhing around, he flops down on the bed, lying between your legs. He places his head on your stomach, heat radiating off of him. You were going to ask why the hell he was putting more pressure on your stomach, that was, until the pain started to ease.

"Better?" He smirks.