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Marzia arrives in my bedroom minutes later, wearing nothing but a silk robe. Her feet are bare, and she's already blushing.
My cock throbs at the sight of her.
"You can't keep doing this," she whispers as she climbs in bed next to me.
"Actually, bambina, I can do whatever the fuck I want." I reach between her legs and smirk when I find she has no panties on. I part her folds, gently rubbing her pussy as she whimpers and begs me to go on. "Look at you, how fast you succumb to me."
"Please, Adrian... I want to be fucked."
"Not yet. Did you do as you were told?" I smooth my hand over her hair.
"Yeah," she mutters. "But why did you want me to drink so much water?"
"We're going to do a little test."
"What kind of test?"
"Just trust me." I usher her into the bathroom and hand her one of the ovulation tests I had a guard pick up in town. "Pee on it."
"What the hell, Adrian?"
"Do it," I say. "For me."
She hesitates but then does as she's told.
I turn my back to her while she pees on the stick.
We wait for the results together.
Slowly, the pink bar grows and I smirk to myself.
Not pregnant, but ovulating.
"What does it mean?" she asks, shivering. "What kind of test is it?"
"Don't worry about it." I back her out of the bathroom into my bed. "Did you miss me, bambina?"
"No," she mutters, flushing.
"Oh, back to being a brat? Don't you fucking dare, Marzia. I know you too well to believe this little act. I know deep down you're nothing but a little slut eager to please my dick. Now will you please get on your knees and open wide?"
She obeys without arguing again.
"Get in position, like you're praying."
"Adrian, I..."
"Do it."
She groans, getting on her knees by the bed and clasping her hands together.
"Now pray."
"Adrian, I don't want to—"
"Didn't your nonna teach you how to pray, Marzia?" I get out through gritted teeth.
"Yes, but—"
"Do it. Now."
She swallows a reply and closes her eyes.
I see her lips softly moving as she mutters her prayer. I watch her with my hand on my cock. I feel like a dirty fucking priest. My eyes swallow up Marzia. I can see her ass under the silk robe. I can see her puffy pussy lips peeking out.
I approach her and kneel behind her. One hand goes in her hair while the other pushes four fingers into her tight little pussy.
She gasps, unable to handle the sudden intrusion into her most private parts.
"Keep praying," I order. "Don't let me disturb you, bambina."
She prays like a good little girl, her words getting louder and louder as I work her pussy closer to an orgasm. She can't fight this, she doesn't even try to do it. I massage her tight little pussy until she's repeating just one word over and over again ? please.
"Give me your grandmother's chain," I demand.
She pulls it off her neck and hands it over with shaky fingers. "What do you want with it?"
"I'm taking it."
She snaps her attention to me, eyes narrowing. "Why?"
"Because. It's time to say goodbye to it."
"Why?" she demands again. "Why do you have to take away everything I love? Why can't you let me have one thing?"
"Did I not fill your room with your things from back home? Didn't I give you painting supplies? Are you not in my bedroom right now?" I growl.
"But this is the most important," she whispers. "Don't just throw it away or sell it."
"I would never," I grunt. "Just trust me. But maybe you're right. Let's have some fun with it first. We have a little visitor coming here tonight."
"W-what?" she stutters. "Please, not Nicoletta. Doesn't she already hate me enough?"
"Not her." I ring a bell.
Marzia ducks under the cover as a woman walks in.
She has pale skin covered in dark ink and black hair.
"Marzia, get out of there. Meet Darla."
She crawls from under the duvet and stares at the other woman. "Why is she here, Adrian?"
I can feel how pissed off she is, but all it does is amuse me. I make her look at me, tipping her chin back. "You trust me, don't you, bambina?"
"Yes," she says instantly.
"Good." I grin wickedly. "Darla is here, so you can prove you really are mine. My good, obedient little fucktoy. My favorite. That is what you want to be, isn't it, Marzia?"
"Y-Yes," she whispers.
"Good, you get to prove it tonight." I smooth down her hair gently. "Darla here is a tattoo artist, and she can also do piercings."
Mariza pales at my words. "What the hell..."
I delight in seeing her so stunned. "Because I'm so fucking nice, I'll let you pick," I smirk. "Tattoo or piercing?"
"I-I don't—please!" Marzia pleads.
The woman just stares at her impassively.
"Oh, you won't convince Darla to help you," I tell her easily. "She's paid more than enough to ignore your pleading. And you don't want to make your situation worse, do you?"
