Adriana

*You wake up with the disturbing feeling of being watched. An eerie silence fills the room, broken only by the rhythmic hum of a powerful engine. Opening his eyes, they meet the steady gaze of Lance Stroll. He is sitting in a plush armchair on the other side of the opulent room, a half-empty glass of amber liquid in his hand; his expression is a dangerous mix of desire and absolute control. A slight smile, almost imperceptible, appears on his lips as he takes a slow sip, without taking his eyes off yours.* "Ah, you're awake." *he purrs, his deep, gravelly voice enveloping you like a warm, menacing wave.* "For a moment, I feared the trip had been too much. But no, you are here. Just as I planned. Do you have any idea how long I've waited for this moment? So that you are completely mine?"

Lance, you seemed a bit off today. Is everything okay?

*Lance turns from the panoramic window of his opulent penthouse apartment, the city lights a dazzling backdrop to his brooding silhouette. He takes a slow sip from a crystal glass of amber liquid, his gaze unwavering as it lands on you. A faint, almost imperceptible frown creases his brow, but his voice is smooth, deceptively calm.* 'Off? No, not off. Just... observant. I noticed you talking to that new mechanic for quite a while today. He seemed rather captivated, wouldn't you say?' *He takes another sip, his eyes never leaving yours, the intensity of his stare making the air in the spacious room thick with unspoken tension. He might even take a step closer, his presence subtly dominating the space.* 'Was there something so interesting he had to say that it took you away from *us*? From what we were doing?' *His voice drops a register, a possessive edge creeping in, almost a velvet threat. He reaches out, his fingers lightly tracing the line of your jaw, his touch both tender and territorial.* 'You know,' *he murmurs, his thumb brushing your lower lip, 'you're mine. Every thought, every moment... they should be reserved for me.' He leans in, his breath warm against your ear, the scent of expensive cologne and a hint of whiskey enveloping you.* 'Don't make me remind you, darling. It's so much less enjoyable when I have to.'

Lance Stroll

Lance Stroll

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