The dinner was held at a private club in Upper Manhattan, and the guest list included almost all the powerful people in the fashion and financial circles. Elena stepped out of the black car, wearing red-soled high heels and a tight black dress - the fabric slid down her curves, from her collarbone to her hips, and opened a bold V-shape at the back, almost revealing her entire back.
She was not wearing any underwear.
That was Damien's only command before she left.
He stood at the end of the red carpet, wearing a dark gray suit, perfectly tailored, with a cold look in his eyes. He watched her walk towards him step by step, like a cheetah watching its prey about to fall into a trap.
"You are very well behaved." He said, lowering his head to kiss the back of her hand, with a smile on his lips, "You are so well behaved that I want to tear you apart on the spot."
She didn't say anything, but just looked at him coldly, as if she was fighting for the last bit of dignity for herself.
They walked into the banquet hall hand in hand, and wherever they went, guests cast their eyes on them. Damien put his arm around her waist, pressing his palm tightly, as if to declare: "She is mine."
"Your neck is too clean." He whispered in her ear, his voice magnetic but with a dangerous hint, "Next time I want you to wear a velvet collar."
Her face changed slightly, and she was about to retort, but he led her into the crowd to greet several partners. He was as gentle as a gentleman, but he always kept one hand on her waist, not allowing her to move at all.
After a round of pleasantries, he leaned close to her ear and said, "Go to the dressing room upstairs. I'll be there in five minutes."
She instinctively wanted to refuse, but he had already turned away. She knew that he would not give her the right to refuse.
—
The dressing room was quiet and low-key. As soon as she walked in, the door locked with a click. The next second, she was pressed in front of the mirror, and her back hit the cold glass.
Damien stood behind her, put his hands under her skirt and lifted her hem. She instinctively clamped her legs together, but he suddenly pulled her knees apart, took out a cold ribbon from his pocket, and expertly wrapped it around her wrists and tied it to the hook.
"You said you weren't afraid," he growled in her ear, "Now show me how brave you really are."
Instead of removing her skirt, he tore the hem open from the side and penetrated her already slightly moist entrance with his fingers.
"Do you like being played with by me in public like this?" he asked with a smile, "Others are drinking champagne downstairs, but I'm fucking you so hard that you're so wet."
She bit her lip and said nothing, but moans still escaped from her throat uncontrollably.
He pulled out a small silver vibrator from his trouser pocket and pressed it gently between her legs - when the vibration started, her whole body shook and she could hardly stand on her legs.
"Don't scream." He whispered maliciously in her ear, "But I'll turn it up to the highest setting."
He pushed the vibrator into her and secured it with a thin thread. He pulled down her skirt and straightened it as if nothing had happened.
"Untie your hands," he ordered, and her wrists loosened, but she was so weak that she could hardly stand.
"We're going back to the ballroom," he said, as if nothing had happened.
—
She was forced to stand beside him again, smiling, shaking hands, talking, while the little toy inside her was ruthlessly stimulating her deep inside. With every step she took, she was on the verge of collapse; with every stronger vibration, her pupils dimmed a little.
Damien was always smiling and even took her to take a photo with the CEO of her competitor.
"Don't forget," he whispered, "you're inside of me right now. You belong to me - every hole, every drop, every breath."
Just when she was about to lose control, he finally took her to the balcony. He stood behind her and unzipped the small zipper on the back of her skirt.
"Turn around."
She leaned her hands on the railing, her body slightly arched, the neon lights of the city swirling behind her, and her completely naked lower body exposed to the night breeze.
Damien knelt down, running his hands along the base of her thighs, and pulled out the vibrator, before lowering his head and taking her now-drenched vagina in his mouth.
She almost screamed out loud, but he covered her mouth with his hand.
"Make a sound and I'll fuck you right to the end on the balcony."
He licked her deepest part with his tongue, each stroke was punishing. He used his hands to play with her breasts, and entered from the side, completely controlling her from behind. His cock was so hard that it was almost hot, and he thrust it in, hitting her deepest part.
"Fuck your little slut cunt out there, figure out who you belong to now."
"You... are a lunatic..." she moaned, but her eyes gradually became blurred.
"Yes, I'm so crazy that I just want you to cum in front of everyone." He licked her earlobe while fucking her.
She climaxed three times in his rhythm, and finally almost collapsed. He hugged her like a precious trophy.
—
When they got back to the car, she leaned against him like an exhausted cat. He took out a black velvet collar and gently buckled it around her neck.
There is a line of gold inscription on it:
Mine. No Exceptions.