No; best to keep her fresh.

“I’d advise against that,” you say, putting a gentle hand on Darius’s arm. “Slaves do talk, after all, and you wouldn’t want your father to think you’d overstepped your bounds.”

Darius’s eyes are shining with lust, and for a moment you think he’s going to disregard your advice—but then he sighs. He gives Coblaith’s nipple a little tweak with a smirk and says, “You’re right, of course, Gaius. Thank you—you’re a true friend, to guide me to the best path even against my wishes. She’ll stay untouched, at least until my father gets his hands on her.”

Darius flips on his couch with a sigh. “Gods! I’m hard as a rock, though. Castor! Milena!” Two slaves, a man and a woman, enter hurriedly from some adjoining room. Darius points to Coblaith. “Castor, take this new acquisition and give her quarters, but don’t tell my father—she’s a gift for him, for the party. See that she’s well-attired the night of, eh?” Castor bobs his head and begins to lead Coblaith away, stirring just a twinge of regret in you, while Darius pulls his toga aside and beckons the female **** forward. “Milena—well, you know your task.”

As the **** kneels at his feet and begins to slobber over his cock, Darius glances up at you, absentmindedly resting a hand on her head. “Thank you again. I do think she’s a lovely gift for father. Did you need anything else?”