I should have gone upstairs the second she kissed me. I should've locked my door, taken a cold shower, and reminded myself she's off-limits. My boss's daughter and she's just Twenty-one. Barely old enough to know what she's asking for.

But I didn't.

Instead, I sat on the edge of the couch, my body strung tight, cock aching against my slacks, feeling her lip gloss on my cheek. That reckless little smile of hers burned in my head, taunting me.

She's just a girl, Daniel. Walk away.

That's what I told myself. But then I heard it-the sound of her bare feet climbing down the hall.

I looked up, and there she was.

Lila leaned against the doorway like she'd been waiting for me to beg. She wasn't even pretending to be innocent. Her Oversized shirt hanging off one shoulder, no bra, bare legs that went on forever. Her eyes flicked down to where my hand was fisted against my thigh, then back up to my face.

"You didn't follow me," she said softly, tilting her head. "Thought you'd come check if I made it to bed safe."

Fuck. The way she said it, like a half-tease, half-dare. It gutted the last of my restraint.

"You need to stop this," I growled, even as my body betrayed me, rising from the couch, closing the space between us. "You have no idea what you're playing with Lila."

Her lips curved with her eyes on mine. "Looks like I do." And before I could stop her, she slipped her hand over my chest, trailing down until she brushed the thick ridge straining against my zipper.

My breath hissed out between my teeth. I grabbed her wrist, meaning to push her off, but instead I pressed her palm harder against me.

"Fuck."

Her eyes lit up, wicked and triumphant. "So I do make you hard."

That was it. The last thread of my control snapped.

I shoved her back against the wall, my mouth crushing down on hers. Her gasp fed my hunger, and I swallowed it whole, tongue pushing deep and claiming. She moaned into me, her nails raking over my shoulders like she wanted to tear the shirt right off my back.

My hands were already under, dragging that thin shirt up until her bare breasts spilled into my palms. Firm, perfect, nipples already hardening against my thumbs.

"God, you're fucking perfect," I murmured against her neck, sucking hard enough to leave a mark. "You know how wrong this is?"

She arched into my hands shamelessly. "Please don't stop."

I growled, slipping my fingers under the thin fabric of her panties. Heat slammed into me-she was wet, swollen and aching for me. My fingers slipped through her slick folds, and the messy sound it made had my cock throbbing painfully.

"Damn, you're soaked already," I muttered, circling her clit slowly and tight just to watch her come undone.

Her head fell back against the wall, lips parted, little whimpers spilling free as her hips rocked helplessly against my hand. The sight alone nearly undid me.

"Daniel-" she gasped, clinging to me, thighs trembling as I pushed two fingers inside her, stretching her sweet little pussy around me. She was gripping me so tight I could barely move, but I forced my fingers deeper, curling them until she nearly screamed.

"That's it, baby. Take my fingers. Show me how much you want my cock instead."

She sobbed out a plea, shameless. "Please, please-fuck me, Daniel-"

I pulled my hand free, shoving my pants down just enough to free myself. My cock slapped heavy against her thigh, already leaking, thick and hard and more than she could wrap her small hand around when she grabbed for it.

"God, look at you," I groaned, watching her stroke me clumsily, eyes wide at the size of what she begged for. "You think you can take this cock, Lila?"

"Yes," she panted, guiding me to her soaked entrance without hesitation. "I need it-"

I pressed forward, the head of my cock sliding against her dripping folds, catching on that tight little hole. Her breath hitched, nails digging into my shoulders as I pushed the tip in.

"Fuck-so tight," I groaned, my jaw clenched as I fed her inch by inch. Her walls gripped me like a vice, squeezing and struggling to take me.

She cried out, part pain, part filthy pleasure, her body stretching around me. "Oh god-Daniel-"

I buried my face against her neck, forcing myself to move slow even as every nerve screamed at me to pound into her. "Relax, baby. Breathe. Let me in."

And then she did.

Her walls gave, and I slid in to the hilt, my cock seated so deep inside her I saw stars. She was shaking, gasping, her nails clawing at me, but she clung tight, her hips rocking up to meet me like she'd never get enough.

I pulled back and thrust harder into her, her wet heat answering me with a slick, filthy sound that shattered my control.

"Holy fuck," I groaned, driving into her again and again, her cries filling the dark hall. Each thrust hit a moan out of her, her pussy sucking me deeper, wetter, and tighter.

"Harder," she begged, voice cracking. "Please, don't stop-"

I growled, lifting her up against the wall, her legs locking tight around me as I drove in deep. Her ass bounced against the wall with every thrust, my cock drilling so far inside her that her cries broke into muffled screams against my shoulder.

Her tightness fluttered around me before she broke. She came with a strangled cry, clenching and pulsing as wet heat spilled over me while her whole body shook uncontrollably.

"Fuck-Lila-" I groaned, driving into her one last time before I broke, spilling inside her, hot and desperate, filling her completely.

We stayed there, pinned together, sweat-damp and breathless, the only sound in the house was the faint hum of the fridge and our ragged gasps. My cock was still buried deep inside her, twitching, her pussy milking me greedily like it wasn't ready to let me go.

Her lips brushed my neck, soft and dazed. "I Told you I could take it."

I let out a rough laugh. "Smartass." I pulled back just enough to see her flushed face, her eyes heavy and dazed. "You damn near broke me."

She smirked, that wicked spark still there even with her body trembling against mine. "It was worth it."

I shook my head, forehead dropping against hers, though my hands were already smoothing over her thighs, her hips, checking she was okay. "Fuck, Lila... this is insane. Your mom-if she ever-"

She cut me off with a slow roll of her hips, squeezing me so tight I hissed. "Then we just don't let her find out."

"Don't play games with me." My voice came out rougher than I meant, but I couldn't help it. The thought of her treating this like some fling, when my whole body already felt branded by her, twisted me up inside.

Her expression softened. She kissed me, slow this time, sweet in a way that nearly gutted me. "Its not a game," she whispered.

I groaned, pulling her closer, burying myself deeper one last time just to feel her walls clench again. I should've pulled out and walked away. Instead, I stayed locked inside her, my hands still gripping her ass, my mouth drinking her in like I was already addicted.

Sienna's POV

The mirror was still foggy from my shower, and my skin was buzzing with warmth, when a loud knock at the hotel room door startled me out of my thoughts. I had been stuck in this fancy hotel in Chicago for three days because of a snowstorm that cancelled my flight, leaving me buried in work emails. At twenty-eight, I had achieved a life that many people would envy-I was a senior marketing executive, wore sharp suits, and even had a penthouse apartment back in New York. But despite this success, I felt an emptiness inside and had no one to share my life with. 

That evening, I had tried to shake off the loneliness in the shower, my fingers slipping between my thighs and circling my clits, seeking release that was never quite satisfying. That lonely feeling hung around like sticky, heavy air.  So, I decided to order room service on impulse, hoping for something delicious to help fill the void.

I slipped into my soft silk robe, which felt cool against my warm skin, and tied it loosely as I walked across the plush carpet. The hotel suite looked modern and luxurious, with crisp white sheets, a sleek minibar, and giant windows framing the snowy city skyline. A glass of wine I had been sipping sat half-finished on the nightstand, its warmth still buzzing in my veins. I opened the door, expecting to see a tired middle-aged server, but instead, I found him-Julian, according to his name tag. 

He was younger than me, maybe around twenty-six, with tousled brown hair, a charming smile, and dark eyes that seemed to hold mine a second too long. His hotel uniform was sharp, but he carried himself with a casual confidence that felt refreshing in this sterile environment. He held a silver tray with my order: chocolate-covered strawberries and a glass of prosecco. "Room service," he said in a smooth, almost playful voice as he stepped inside at my invitation.

"Thanks," I replied, and pointed to the glass table by the window. He set the tray down with easy, unhurried movements, and as I caught a hint of his scent-a clean mix of cedar and soap with a touch of something earthy-my robe shifted as I grabbed my purse, revealing the curve of my breast. I noticed his gaze drop briefly, staring at my boobs before returning to my face, the awareness between us unexpected and intense.

"Long night?" he asked, lingering by the table. His smile was casual, but his eyes were busy exploring me. There was no judgment in his look, just curiosity as if he could see past my polished exterior to the energy beneath.

I hesitated, fingers hovering over my purse. "Long week," I found myself saying, surprising even me. "This storm has me trapped here, and work never stops." Why was I opening up to him? He was just the delivery guy. But there was something warm and inviting about his presence, and I found myself leaning against the table, a little closer than necessary.

"Sounds tough," he replied, his voice softening. "This place can feel like a fancy cage, right? All shiny on the outside, but..." He let his words trail off, shrugging his shoulders, and I nodded, feeling understood in a way that made me slightly uneasy.

"Yeah, exactly." I handed him a tip, and our fingers brushed briefly, the touch sending a surprising spark of electricity through me. His eyes remained locked on mine, and for a fleeting moment, I forgot the usual roles of guest and server. "So, have you worked here long?" I asked, stalling because I didn't want him to leave just yet.

"A couple of years," he replied, pocketing the cash while still maintaining eye contact. "It pays the bills, and I get to meet interesting people." His smile turned teasing, and I felt a rush of warmth rise to my cheeks, my body betraying me once again.

"Interesting, right?" I arched an eyebrow, trying to keep things light, but my voice came out softer, almost obvious that I was inviting him to stay. What was happening? Flirting with the room service guy wasn't really a me thing. But there was something about him; he was confident yet warm, and that made me want to keep talking.

"Absolutely," he said, his gaze dropping to my lips for a split second before he stepped back. "Enjoy your strawberries, Ms Lane." He nodded, switching back to his professional behaviour, and started to head for the door.

Suddenly, I started panicking-not panic exactly, but a desperate need to keep him here, to hold onto that connection. Just as he reached the door, I acted on impulse and let out a sharp "Ow!", stumbling a bit and catching myself on the table. The glass of prosecco wobbled as I pretended to hurt my ankle.

"Are you okay?" Julian turned back, concern flashing across his face, his hand still on the doorknob.

"I think I twisted my ankle," I said, wincing dramatically. I felt a mix of guilt and excitement at my desperate act. "Could you... Maybe grab me some ice from the minibar? It's just over there."

He hesitated for a moment but then nodded and crossed the room quickly. "Yeah, sure. Sit down; let me have a look." His tone was all business now, but his eyes were still warm, making my heart race as he knelt by the minibar, looking for ice.

I sat on the edge of the bed with my robe sliding up my thigh intentionally, and watched him, my heart pounding hard. This was reckless, maybe even stupid, but I didn't care. I wanted him to stay, to see where this could lead. Just as he stood up with a makeshift ice pack, the door opened, and another hotel staff member-an older woman with a tight bun-walked in, holding a clipboard. "Julian, you're needed downstairs," she said, then glanced at me, her eyes narrowing slightly.

Disappointment washed over me like a cold wave. It was all slipping away. I forced a smile, muttering, "I'm fine, just a clumsy moment," but my chest tightened with regret as the moment was slipping away.

Julian handed me the ice pack, and his fingers brushed against mine for a moment, lingering just enough to make my heart race. "I'll check on you later, Ms Lane," he said quietly, his eyes promising something as he followed the woman out.

The door clicked shut, leaving me alone with my pounding heart and a plate of strawberries I no longer cared about.