Fireworks

I don't remember who lost control first. Maybe it was him. Maybe it was me. But it was inevitable. And at that moment, I didn't care.

His body was tense, athletic. No more hide-and-seek. It was obvious that he wanted me. But I was the one who let him have me.

I grabbed his arm, pulled him down onto the sheets, braced myself with my hands on his shoulders, and looked down at him.

“Your job title doesn't matter here, Alexander. If you want me, you'll have to work for it. It's either both of us or none of us.”

He grinned—and that grin grew wider as I leaned over him, letting my hair fall around us like a red curtain, and slowly slid myself onto him. His hands grabbed my hips, trying to pull me where he wanted me. But I resisted, not moving an inch.

“Cloe, what?” His moan vibrated directly into my stomach.

“Please say it!”

His eyes grew wider. Then he understood.

“Please.”

That was enough for me. I sat down on him. Let myself sink. Deep. All the way.

My whole body blossomed as he filled me. Completely. It was brutal, hot, unfiltered. And I let go of all inhibitions, no restraint, no mercy. I rode him hard, faster than I had ever done before. I felt him close to coming. I stopped abruptly. He gasped in surprise. His eyes searched mine, trying to understand.

I leaned forward, kissed him, bit his lip tenderly. Then I reared up and laughed loudly.

“Come on, CEO. Is that all you've got?”

His hands grabbed me tighter, threw me off him and to the side. Was I surprised? Maybe. Did I let it happen? Definitely. The next moment, I was already underneath him. Next round.

Now he took what he needed. Powerful, deep, rhythmic, while my nails dug into his shoulders. Every thrust was a promise, every collision ignited flames in my crotch.

“Cloe, I...”

“Yes! Keep going! Come! Come inside me!” I almost screamed, letting myself be carried from wave to wave, feeling my body tremble with tension. Holding back was impossible. Not him. Not me.

And then – BANG. I came so hard I saw stars.

He followed me shortly after, deep inside me. With an animalistic sound that showed more than anything else that he had lost control. From the very first time we met, in his office on the top floor, I had wanted to know what that sounded like. And now I knew.

We lay there, exhausted, drenched in sweat, wedged together like two sports cars after a head-on crash.

My throat was raw, and I could barely get the words out: “That was better than Macy’s 4th of July Fireworks, a million rockets at once.”

He laughed, also hoarse, and kissed my neck. “You're a fantastic trainee. Full of surprising talents. You'll go far in this company.”

“Sure,” I grinned, squinting my eyes, “but what's next for us?”