Owned By The Don

Chapter 5: Rules of Ownership

Cassandra lay motionless on the massive bed long after Damien left the room, his c*m still slowly leaking down her inner thighs. The luxurious silk sheets felt cold against her overheated skin. Her p***y throbbed raw, stretched, and shamefully full.

She stared at the ceiling, tears slipping silently from the corners of her eyes.

What have I done?

The goodbye with her father replayed in her mind like a knife twist. His broken apologies. The final wave from the window. The heavy click of the SUV door locking her old life away forever.

And then Damien claiming her again the second she stepped back into his world. No softness. No mercy. Just brutal ownership and that low, commanding growl that made her body betray her every single time.

A soft knock jerked her out of her thoughts.

“Miss Briggs.” Marco’s deep voice came through the door. “Boss wants you showered and in the dining room in twenty minutes. Wear only the robe on the hook. Nothing else.”

Cassandra swallowed hard. She forced herself up on shaky legs and padded to the enormous marble bathroom. Hot water cascaded over her body, but it did nothing to wash away the marks the faint bruises on her hips where his fingers had dug in, the redness around her throat from his possessive grip.

When she stepped out, the black silk robe waited exactly as ordered. It barely reached mid-thigh and clung to her damp curves, the thin fabric doing nothing to hide her hardened n*****s or the smooth bare skin of her p***y.

She tied the belt with trembling fingers and walked barefoot to the dining area.

The view of Manhattan at night was breathtaking, but Cassandra barely noticed. Marco stood near the windows like a silent sentinel, arms crossed over his broad chest.

On the long glass table sat a simple but elegant meal grilled salmon, roasted vegetables, a glass of white wine. Her stomach twisted. She had no appetite.

“Sit and eat,” Marco said gruffly, not unkindly. “You’ll need your strength.”

Cassandra obeyed, pulling the short robe down as far as it would go. She forced down a few bites, hyper-aware of how exposed she felt.

The penthouse door opened with a soft click.

Isabella Rossi one of Damien play thing walked in like she owned the damn place, her voluptuous body poured into a tight red dress that screamed s*x and danger. Her fiery red hair spilled over one shoulder, and her green eyes immediately narrowed on Cassandra with undisguised hatred.

“Well, well,” Isabella purred, voice dripping venom. “The little librarian is already playing house. How adorable. Still leaking the Don’s c*m, I bet.”

Cassandra’s fork froze halfway to her mouth. Heat flooded her cheeks, but she kept silent.

Isabella circled the table slowly, heels clicking sharply. “Enjoy it while it lasts, sweetheart. Damien f***s hard, but he breaks even harder. I’ve watched innocent little things like you shatter in weeks. He’ll get bored of your tight virgin p***y and come crawling back to someone who can actually handle him.”

Cassandra’s hazel eyes flashed with quiet defiance. “Then why are you here if he’s so done with you?”

Isabella’s hand shot out lightning-fast, grabbing a thick fistful of Cassandra’s long dark hair and yanking her head back painfully.

“You mouthy little w***e”

“Touch her again and I’ll cut that pretty hand off.”

The temperature in the room plummeted.

Damien stood in the doorway, steel-gray eyes burning with lethal fury. His powerful 6’3” frame filled the space, black shirt unbuttoned at the collar, sleeves rolled up to reveal corded forearms and old scars.

Isabella released Cassandra instantly, forcing a seductive smile. “Damien, baby, I was just”

“Out.” His voice was quiet. Ice-cold. “Now. And if I catch you near her without my permission again, you won’t like what happens.”

Isabella’s lips pressed into a thin line. She shot Cassandra one last poisonous glare before striding out, the door slamming behind her.

Damien crossed the room in long, predatory strides. He gripped Cassandra’s chin firmly, tilting her face up so she had no choice but to meet his intense gaze.

“Did she hurt you?”

“Just my hair,” Cassandra whispered, heart pounding.

His thumb stroked her jaw almost gently, but his eyes were pure possession. “No one touches what belongs to me. Not her. Not anyone.” He leaned closer, voice dropping to a dark growl. “Rule number one: Your body is mine. You don’t cover it. You don’t hide it. When I want to look, you spread your legs and show me this pretty cunt. Understood?”

Cassandra’s breath hitched. She nodded.

“Say it.”

“My body is yours.”

“Good girl.” His hand slid down, parting the silk robe without warning. Two thick fingers dragged through her slick folds, finding her wet again. A cruel smirk tugged at his lips. “Already soaked for me. Such a filthy little thing.”

He pushed one finger inside her sore p***y, curling it slowly. Cassandra gasped, gripping the edge of the table.

Your entire world is this penthouse and my cock.”

He added a second finger, stretching her. Cassandra bit her lip to stifle a moan, thighs trembling.

“Rule number three,” Damien leaned in, biting her earlobe sharply. “You obey instantly. Talk back, and you get punished. Disobey, and the punishment gets worse. Tonight you’ll learn what happens when you make me jealous.”

He pulled his fingers out abruptly, leaving her aching and empty. Then he licked them clean right in front of her, eyes locked on hers.

“Finish your meal. After that, you’re going over my knee.”

Cassandra’s stomach dropped. “Damien, please”

He stood, towering over her. “Keep begging, little wife. It only makes me harder.”

The next twenty minutes were torture. Every bite felt heavy under his watchful stare. When she finally pushed the plate away, Damien’s voice cut through the silence.

“Stand up, take off your Robe and bend over the table.”

Her hands shook as she untied the belt and let the silk fall to the floor. Naked and vulnerable, she bent forward, pressing her breasts and cheek against the cool glass, ass presented to him.

Damien stepped behind her, one large hand smoothing over the soft globes of her ass.

“Such perfect pale skin,” he murmured. “It’s going to look so pretty marked up.”

The first sharp smack of his palm made her yelp. Heat bloomed across her right cheek.

“You don’t speak to Isabella,” he said, spanking her again harder. “You don’t look at her.”

Smack. Smack.

Tears pricked her eyes as the stinging built.

“You don’t cry for anyone but me.”

The spanking continued, steady, deliberate, turning her ass a bright, burning red. Each slap sent jolts straight to her c**t. By the tenth strike, Cassandra was whimpering, p***y dripping down her thighs.

Damien paused, sliding two fingers through her soaked folds.

“f*****g soaked from your punishment,” he growled, voice thick with satisfaction. “My innocent little librarian is turning into a pain slut for her Don.”

He unzipped his pants, freeing his thick, hard c**k. Without another word, he lined up and thrust into her in one brutal stroke.

Cassandra cried out, the mix of pain from her spanked ass and the deep stretch of his c**k overwhelming her.

Damien f****d her relentlessly over the table, one hand fisted in her dark hair, the other gripping her hip hard enough to bruise.

“This is your life now,” he snarled between thrusts. “Owned. Used. Filled with my c*m whenever I want.”

Cassandra came hard, screaming his name as her walls clamped down around him. Damien followed with a deep groan, pumping her full again.

He stayed buried inside her, breathing ragged, then leaned down to whisper against her ear:

“Lesson learned?”

She nodded weakly, tears streaming.

Damien pulled out slowly, watching his c*m drip from her abused p***y with dark pride.

“Clean yourself up”.

He straightened his clothes and walked out, leaving Cassandra bent over the table, ass red, body trembling, mind spiraling between hatred and the terrifying realization that part of her was already craving the next punishment.

Marco’s voice came softly from the corner. “You should rest, miss. He’s only getting started.”

Cassandra closed her eyes.

She was no longer sure she wanted to survive the year with her soul intact.