My quirky little thing

Adrian

“Tell the guys to leave. Dominic’s not showing up tonight,” I said to Michael, one of my right-hand men. “Handle the guy, but don’t kill him.”

He nodded, and I slipped into my Bentley.

Finally, I could focus on the woman beside me.

Sienna looked nervous as I shut the door. Surprising. She hadn’t seemed nervous all night.

Before I walked up to her, she was about to be snatched by one of the guys Michael had ordered to grab her. A quirky little thing, trying to sneak shots of my men like she was invisible. At first, I thought Dominic had sent her to spy on us. But one look at the way she fumbled, the way her ID peeked from her bag, told me otherwise.

She wasn’t a plant.

She was just a nosy, reckless investigative journalist.

And fuck if that didn’t thrill me.

Not just because she was drop-dead gorgeous—which I’d already clocked before she started recording—but because this was hands down the most dangerous thing I’d done in years.

Hooking up with a journalist. Right after ordering a torture session for one of Dominic’s boys.

I was supposed to keep my hands clean, stay far away from anyone remotely connected to the authorities. But Sienna?

She was irresistible.

And dangerous.

I reached for her thigh, my fingers pressing lightly, reassuring.

I leaned in, my lips brushing her ear. “You got a hotel you’re comfortable with?”

She swallowed. “No.”

“Leighton’s,” I told the driver. The car started moving immediately.

I turned back to my little journalist.

Before she could react, I grabbed her by the waist and pulled her onto my lap.

A stunned gasp left her lips as she landed against me.

But I didn’t give her a chance to recover.

I tilted her chin up, caught her lips with mine. She inhaled sharply, but then—she melted. Her mouth parted, welcoming me in. Our tongues tangled, her body pressing even closer, and fuck—

This was already a bad idea.

But I wasn’t stopping now.

Dang sienna is so ht, I could barely wait to get to the hotel room. My hands slid under her shirt, gliding over smooth skin as I found her bra. I squeezed her breast through the fabric, but I wanted it gone. She moaned against my mouth, grinding on my aching cock.

“We’re here,” the driver announced.

I pulled back, breath ragged, struggling to regain control before responding.

“Okay. Don’t wait up.”

With a sigh, I eased Sienna back into her seat. She quickly smoothed out her clothes, but I wished I could just teleport her inside without breaking apart.

I stepped out, opened her door, and led her up to the room. More like my room. The one I crashed in every time. The staff didn’t even wait for me to ask for the key anymore—it was always ready.

As expected, the door was already unlocked when we arrived.

Inside, Sienna hesitated, glancing around.

“You nervous?” I asked.

“Not really.”

“Need a drink?”

“No, I’m good.”

“Then kiss me.”

I scooped her up, carrying her straight to the bed. My lips trailed from her neck downward as my hands slipped under her bra, finding her hardened nipple. She moaned, her body arching toward me.

My squirmy journalist.

I started peeling off her clothes, and she eagerly helped. When she reached for me, I caught her wrists.

Pinning her hands above her head, I leaned in, sucking gently on her nipple. Her reaction only made me want more.

I pressed slow, teasing kisses lower, tracing the softness of her stomach, feeling the way her skin twitched beneath my touch. But there was a problem—she didn’t listen. Her hands kept slipping free, trying to roam, trying to take control.

I reached for her shirt and quickly knotted her wrists together.

She gasped, eyes wide with protest—until I pulled her thighs against me. My fingers brushed over her damp underwear, and whatever complaint she had died in a moan.

She was already so wet for me. I smirked.

My fingers slid over her clit, teasing, then dipped inside her. Her whole body twitched.

She tried to say something, but I deepened the movement, working her open, feeling her tighten around me.

“You’re beautiful, Sienna,” I murmured, watching her unravel beneath me. “Let me take care of you.”

She was close—I could tell.

“Wait—wait—” she gasped.

I didn’t.

I kept going until she was shaking, moaning, completely undone. When she finally came, her face twisted in pure pleasure—easily the most beautiful expression I’d ever seen.

My cock throbbed painfully against my trousers, desperate to be inside her.

Her breathing steadied, but her eyes sharpened. “Untie me.”

I smirked. “I don’t want to.”

Her expression darkened. “Fucking untie me.”

“Or what?” I chuckled.

She squirmed, trying to pull away, closing her thighs—blocking my perfect view of her still-pulsing entrance.

“Or I leave,” she challenged.

I yanked her back. “I’m afraid I’m in control here.”

I slid her thighs open again, watching the way she tensed, resisting—but not really.

“If you want me to stop, I will,” I told her, voice low.

“But I’m the only one naked,” she snapped.

I grinned. “I enjoy the view, firecracker.”

She opened her mouth to argue, but I didn’t feel like talking anymore.

I needed to be inside her.

Reaching into my pocket, I grabbed protection, unzipped my trousers, rolled it on, and pressed against her entrance.

She gasped.

Then, in one sharp thrust, I pushed inside.

Her breath hitched—too shocked to make a sound—but fuck, so was I.

She was impossibly tight, warm, pulsing around me like she was made for this.

I didn’t give her time to adjust—I started moving, deep and fast.

She moaned, back arching, body taking every inch of me. The louder she got, the deeper I went, unable to hold back, unable to stop.

And when I finally buried myself inside her, spilling deep—she clenched around me, trembling, coming undone all over again.

Her body twitched beneath mine as I pulled out.

But one look at her—flushed, panting, eyes still hazy with pleasure—and my cock hardened again.

I smirked.

Then I started all over.