Corporate Villainy: Trampling Protagonists as a Business Dad

Vincent, the epitome of masculine grace in his impeccably tailored suit, crossed the threshold of the dimly lit room with an air of unbridled desire. In his powerful arms, Olivia lay cradled, her body a perfect complement to his. Their lips were fused in a kiss that spoke of a hunger long suppressed, a passion that threatened to consume them both. Gently, he set her down upon the plush carpet, their lips parting with reluctance. As he pulled away, his eyes, dark with longing, swept over her face, taking in the soft flush that had crept onto her cheeks.

His lips, skilled in the art of seduction, began a slow descent, leaving a trail of fire along the delicate curve of her neck, the sensitive hollow of her collarbone. Just as he was about to lavish attention on the generous swell of her perfect breasts, Olivia, her breath already coming in short, ragged gasps, hurriedly placed her hands on his chest, stilling his progress.

"I-I want to take a shower," she stammered, her green eyes, usually so clear and direct, now shied away from his intense gaze. Vincent, his voice a low rumble that seemed to vibrate through her very core, "Forget it, It's not necessary."

His lips never left the sensitive skin of her neck, his hands giving her breasts a gentle, teasing squeeze that elicited a soft moan from her. Olivia's hands, however, weakly pushed against the solid wall of his broad chest, her words tumbling out in a rush of heated embarrassment. "I-I want to change into what we bought."

This time, Vincent paused, his intense eyes softening with understanding. He planted a soft, lingering peck on her lips, his voice gentle as he whispered in her ear "Don't take too long."

Olivia nodded, her gaze locked with his for a moment longer before she disappeared into the sanctuary of the bathroom. The room was soon filled with the soft, rhythmic sound of the shower running, a sound that seemed to echo the pounding of Vincent's heart.

Left alone, Vincent began the slow, deliberate process of undressing. He removed his suit jacket, each movement precise and controlled, revealing the crisp white shirt underneath that clung to his muscular frame. His shoes followed, then the shirt, each button released with a practiced ease that spoke of countless similar undressings. His pants were next, the fabric sliding down his hips to reveal the hard evidence of his arousal. Each item of clothing was carefully placed aside, a testament to his meticulous nature.

He stood outside the bathroom, the scent of Olivia's lingering scent teasing his senses, his body aching with the need to join her. Yet, he chose to wait patiently, his mind filled with images of what was to come.

A few minutes later, the bathroom door opened, and Olivia emerged, her body wrapped in a cloud of steam. Seeing her, Vincent couldn't help but gulp, his throat suddenly dry. She was a vision in black, the see-through nightie clinging to her damp skin, the small fabric barely concealing her curves. Her face was a delightful mix of blush and intoxication, her arms trying to cover herself demurely, an attempt that only served to heighten her allure.

Vincent's restraint snapped like a thread stretched too thin. He stepped forward, his hands capturing her face as his lips claimed hers in a hard, demanding kiss. His hands began a fervent exploration of her body, tracing every curve and dip as if it were a landscape he had longed to traverse for eternity. There was a possessive urgency in his touch, a hunger that seemed to grow with each passing second. He guided her backwards until the back of her knees hit the edge of the bed, and she tumbled onto the soft mattress, her black hair fanning out around her like a dark halo.

Vincent followed her down, his mouth moving to capture a nipple through the delicate silk fabric of her nightie. He bit it gently, a sharp nip that sent a jolt of pleasure coursing through her, making her moan and shudder beneath him. Her response was immediate and intense, a surprise that amused him, drawing a smirk to his lips. He watched as she hid her face in the crook of her arm, embarrassment colouring her cheeks a delightful shade of pink.

With a deft movement, he hooked a finger under the strap of her nightie and tugged it down, baring her breast to his gaze. His hand moved lower, rubbing her cunt outside her black silk panties, the fabric already damp with her desire. Olivia's hands gripped his hair, her fingers tangling in the strands as her other hand clutched at his back, her nails digging into his flesh. Her body arched into his touch, her hips moving in a silent, rhythmic plea for more.

Vincent obliged, rubbing faster, his fingers gliding in and out of her slick heat, all while his teeth and lips teased her nipple. The sensory overload was too much for the virgin Olivia, and she came undone, her body convulsing as she called out.

"Master" her voice filled with awe and reverence.

The title 'Master' aroused Vincent further, his large cock hardening to the point of pain, pressing against her belly with an insistence that brooked no denial. He removed his underwear, his thumb rubbing her cunt in slow, deliberate circles. Olivia's hips moved instinctively against his thumb, chasing that sensation again, her body a slave to the pleasure he so expertly wrought from her. She gulped, looking at Vincent's impressive length with a mix of shyness, shock, and desire.

He noticed her gaze, fixed on his manhood, and smirked, a slow, knowing curve of his lips that sent a shiver down Olivia's spine. He moved closer, his hard, hot cock pressing against her silk panties, the thin barrier doing little to dampen the heat and hardness of him. He rubbed against her, a slow, deliberate motion that sent waves of pleasure coursing through her.

The friction was exquisite, his length sliding against her sensitive nub, causing her juices to overflow. She could feel the wetness spreading, soaking the flimsy material of her panties, the silk clinging to her swollen folds, leaving nothing to the imagination. Olivia's cheeks flushed with a mix of embarrassment and desire, her body responding wantonly to his touch, betraying her need for him. She squirmed beneath him, her hips moving instinctively, seeking more of that delicious friction, her body yearning for a release only he could provide.

Just as she was about to climax for the second time, Vincent pulled away, his hand stilling. Olivia's face showed disappointment, confusion, and a burning desire that refused to be quenched.

Vincent, with a voice laced with authority and a hint of playfulness, commanded, "Call me master, Olivia." His eyes bore into hers, the intensity of his gaze sending a shiver down her spine, igniting a mix of nervousness and excitement within her.

Olivia, her voice barely above a whisper, instinctively responded, "Master." The word escaped her lips before she could even think, and she immediately covered her mouth, eyes widening in shock at her own audacity. She couldn't believe she had uttered the word so readily, yet it sent a thrill through her, a secret pleasure that she had never known before.

Vincent smiled, a slow, satisfied curve of his lips that sent Olivia's heart fluttering. "Good girl," he praised, his voice a low rumble that resonated deep within her. His shaft rubbed against her panties, the friction delicious and torturous, stopping just as she was about to climax, leaving her hanging on the precipice of desire.

"I want you to tell master what you want as a reward, Olivia," he murmured, his breath hot against her ear. His hands roamed her body, tracing the curve of her big hips before settling on her breasts. He squeezed them firmly, his thumbs teasing her already sensitive nipples through the fabric of her dress, drawing out a soft gasp from deep within her.

Olivia bit her lip, trying to hold out, to resist the urge to beg. But the sensations were too much, the desire too overwhelming. Finally, with a whimper, she gave in.

"M-Master, please," she begged, her voice trembling with need.

Vincent looked down at her, his eyes dark with desire, yet tender at the same time. "Please what, Olivia?" he asked, his hands never stopping their teasing, their tormenting. He was relentless, driving her to the brink of madness with his touch.

Her eyes filled with tears, a mix of frustration and desperate longing. She squirmed beneath him, her body aching for release.

"P-Please fill me up. Please make l-love to me. I-I want you," she pleaded, her voice a broken sob.

She was beyond caring about pride or modesty. All she knew was the burning need within her, the desire that only Vincent could satisfy.

Vincent smiled, his voice tender yet filled with a promise that sent a shiver of anticipation down her spine.

"As you wish, dear," he murmured, his hands finally stilling, his body poised to give her what she so desperately desired.