Their Spoiled Girl

At the door

The wind is cold against the thin girl's shivering frame.

Drenched to the skin, her sodden clothes cling to her like a second, clammy skin. She reaches out with a pale, quivering hand to knock on the imposing wooden door before her.

She had been wandering all day, her hollow eyes looking longingly at happy families and loving couples that seemed to taunt her with their contentment. None caught her attention the way one particular couple did.

The man, tall and commanding, had chiseled features, a strong jawline, and piercing dark eyes. His muscular frame spoke of strength, a stark contrast to her own frail form. But it was the woman who truly took her breath away—a vision of beauty that seemed almost otherworldly in its perfection. With red lips, grey eyes, dark black hair, and the most gorgeous body she had ever seen.

Her body was a masterpiece of feminine curves and large, heavy breasts that made the girl practically drool. The woman's hips swayed hypnotically as she walked. Bella couldn't help but feel a warm feeling at her core just by looking at both of them.

Unable to resist, Bella had followed the couple like a shadow, her feet moving of their own accord as they traced the pair's path through the bustling city streets. When they finally reached their destination—a brownstone apartment with ivy-covered walls and gleaming windows—Bella found herself rooted to the spot, unable to tear herself away from the people that stole her most eager attention.

She waited, huddled in the shadows, watching the house. Her eyes darted nervously to the windows, hoping to catch a glimpse of them, but they never appeared. She had been waiting for hours, her clothes soaked through from the relentless downpour that showed no signs of stopping. Her hair clung to her face, and the rain trickled down her neck, chilling her to the bone.

The storm had come out of nowhere. Now it was pouring, and she had no place to go.

Home wasn't safe, but a part of her was tempted to return just so she could have somewhere warm to sleep with a warm bottle of milk.

She decided to take her chances.

Closing her eyes, she raised a trembling hand and knocked, the sound barely audible over the storm's fury.

For a moment, she thought no one had heard her, but then she detected the heavy thud of footsteps approaching from within.

The door swung open, revealing the handsome man from earlier that day. His eyes widened as he looked out, his brows knitting together in confusion when he noticed Bella standing there, drenched and shivering, looking so small and fragile.

"Dan, who is it?" came a voice from inside.

The beautiful woman from before appears behind him, her eyes widening in shock when she sees Bella.

"Oh my God," she gasps, snapping out of her daze. "Come in, come in. What on earth are you doing out in the rain?"

Bella hesitated for a moment before stepping over the threshold, her shoes squelching on the polished wood floor. The warmth of the house enveloped her. She liked the smell of them—clean, fresh, and woody.

The man eyes the girl with suspicion as she enters their home, while the woman immediately begins fussing over her, trying to peel away the oversized cardigan that clung to the poor girl like a second skin, weighing her down with water.

"Did you lose your cell phone? Do you need to call someone?" She asks as she leads Bella further into the house, into a grand yet cozy living area. The younger woman's eyes widened as she took in the beautiful antique furniture and the soft glow of the fireplace casting flickering shadows across the room.

There is a popcorn bowl left on the rug with two blankets.

Had they been watching a movie by the fireplace before she arrived? Bella's gaze lingered on the scene, longing filling her chest. She wanted to be a part of that.

"I don't have one," Bella replied meekly, her voice barely above a whisper. She moved slowly towards the fireplace, her eyes drawn to the trinkets on the mantelpiece. She traced her fingers over a delicate porcelain figurine, mesmerized by its fragile beauty.

Dan follows her, his expression guarded, suspicion etched into his features. The woman, however, wore her concern openly, her eyes darting between Bella and her husband.

"How old are you, sweetheart? Do you need us to call someone?" She asked gently.

Bella continued to walk, her gaze now fixed on the photographs that lined the walls and adorned the furniture. Smiling faces, happy memories, a life so different from her own.

"I'm 22," she finally answered.

The man and the woman exchanged a look, a silent conversation passing between them. The woman's brow furrowed, her worry deepening.

"Honey? Who should we call?" She tried again, her voice soft but firm, trying to reach Bella through whatever fog she was in.

When Bella keeps walking, ignoring the woman's pressing questions, the man's patience wears thin.

He steps forward, his face hardening with resolve. "Alright, I don't know who sent you, but this is enough. You're getting out." His voice is stern and commanding as he grabs Bella's arm and begins to drag her back towards the hallway.

"No, pleasee," Bella cries, her voice breaking, her body resisting him weakly. "Please, don't make me go."

"Dan!"

The man stops at the woman's command. She narrows her gaze at her husband, shaking her head in disapproval.

"Can't you see she needs our help?" she said, her voice softening as she looked at the poor girl.

Dan stops, his jaw clenched, his grip still firm on Bella's arm but no longer pulling. He looks at his wife, then down at Bella, and something in his expression shifts. Reluctantly, he lets go, his hand dropping to his side. Bella stumbles slightly, clutching her arm where he had held her, her eyes wide and frightened.

The woman crouches down to Bella's level, and the younger girl can't help but widen her eyes when the woman's large breasts hang below her face.

"Do you want some water, sweetie?"

Bella shakes her head.

"I want milky."