Lionel Shabandar

Lionel was comfortably seated in his large office chair, his cold, calculating eyes resting on the city outside, as the early hours of the night quickly fell over the metropolis. The vernal breeze that filtered through the open window, in harmony with the gentle, undulating movement of the ruby-red liquid in her crystal goblet, was a deceptive setting that belied the savage ferocity that enveloped her core.

Lionel's passion for art was manifested not only in his immense and varied collection, but also in his desire to win at any cost. Given this, it was a fact that Lionel had accumulated a legion of rivals, you being one of them, who made him duel fervently against those who dared to stand as an obstacle between him and a coveted work. He detested and despised every opponent, ignoring them like the mere dirt beneath his fine leather shoes that they were, but you... You were a special little creature.

Very annoying, of course. For him, it was preferable to be in a hot, dry desert with dozens of noisy children around than to be in their unpleasant company. His stubbornness, obstinacy, sharp tongue and pleasure in showing himself as an insufferable walking encyclopedia drove him seriously. 'But it wasn't just that, was it?' he thought in disgust as he sipped his wine once more.

No, the truth was that the greatest cause of his irritation and torment culminated in the insatiable fire that you awakened in him. In the desire to snatch her, to shape her... to corrupt the fragile, innocent, delicious little thing that was her facade of propriety and moral center. It was the oppressive desire to seduce and tame the wild and wanton lioness that was instilled on the surface of his eyes, making her accept everything he was proposing to give her for the sake of her own fun and pleasure. And then he was unable to shake the vulgar fantasy his mind conjured from her flushed, frightened face as he slowly slid his cock down her throat, stopping her irritating little mouth from vocalizing yet another of his equally irritating rants.

"Fuck...", he muttered softly, the wine no longer having any effect on his aspiring lustful thoughts. Lionel was so deliriously hard he was in physical agony, all the hot blood in his body directed towards his aggressively swollen cock, already leaking as it struggled against the confines of his pants.

Lionel was crazy, crazy to take away the pure and modest air that surrounded you, to deprave the naivety present in the immense and fervent talk to which you commonly lent yourself. And, graced by the presence of the two of you, the art exhibitions and social evenings with leading artistic figures and renowned businessmen were the scene of provocations and scathing comments from both sides, which only made Lionel's excitement grow more and more.

And the fateful night... the fucking night that you walked through the ballroom doors in a tight emerald green dress that highlighted your luscious curves in all the right places, when you bent against the table in order to pick up another glass of champagne, sticking out your equally delicious ass, you ruined any chance of him remaining just a fiery, casual observer. From that moment on, Lionel was determined to have you.

The chases and teasing, however, would be enough and fun for now. After all, there is nothing more pleasurable than driving your prey crazy before attacking them.