He took a step back, whipping his shirt off. I gazed at him, impressed at his sculpture-like body. He didn’t have defined abs, but his body was toned and far more masculine than most teenage boys.
I was less elegant taking off my shirt, but it didn’t matter when he looked at my body like it was the best piece of art here. We fell back against each other, our hands clinging onto each other with feral grips. Our mouths crashed together, nibbled at each other, and let out tiny noises that slipped away in the massive building.
His body shifted as he kicked off his shoes. His jeans fell down between us as I worked on undoing my own jeans. I could feel his erection, hot and unyielding between us, but I didn’t look.
“I should tell you something,” I said, regretting the words as they came out of my mouth. “I…I haven’t done this before.”
I avoided his gaze, which led my eyes downward. I tried to avoid looking at his cock too, but I could see the bulge in his boxer briefs in my periphery. Even then, I couldn’t imagine it fitting inside me.
“Do you want to stop?” he asked, his fingers brushing against my arm. His voice was gentle, but I couldn’t hear any disappointment or faltering.
“No,” I said with more conviction than I’ve ever said anything. I grabbed onto him, pulling him closer to me. I nudged off my shoes as we kissed. I pulled away to slide down my pants. I shed my underwear and he took off his boxer briefs at the same time.
He laid down our clothes for me to lie on. As I settled on top of them, there wasn’t any fear like I thought I’d have for my first time. I knew it was the right time. I knew I wanted it more than anything.
He tore off the wrapper of a condom and rolled it on with almost lazy efficiency. His cock was thicker than I’d thought, but it sent a thrill through me instead of anxiety.
He settled over me. His cock teased at my entrance. I reached down, but he grabbed my hand to stop me.
“Just relax,” he said. He kissed my collarbone, slowly, in four different places. He undid my bra and pulled it away from me. His hands moved over my breasts with cautious curiosity, then squeezed them both in a way that felt reverent. He kissed my shoulder while his thumb brushed over my nipple.
When he pushed inside me, twinges of pain burned between my legs. As he kissed me along my jaw, the pain lessened and a desperate, primal yearning took over. It was ravenous, willing to do whatever it took to experience that friction and magnitude inside me.
As he moved in me slowly, it was like a sudden inhale of opium and ecstasy. My skin felt infinitely more sensitive in an all-encompassing way. He held his weight up on his elbows, but his chest still brushed against my nipples. All words failed me. I gripped onto his hips; my back arched to get more contact with him.
I’d imagined this moment a hundred times, but the real thing was impossibly better.
The yearning became more and more dominant as his thrusts started to speed up, jostling my body enough that the clothes bunched up underneath me and his hand settled over the curve of my neck to keep me still. My nails dug into his skin, a bundle of sparks gathering where his body collided into me and I knew that when the spark caught fire, I wouldn’t ever need anything again.
It happened faster than I expected. When I ignited, it was like my body was an incendiary bomb. The explosion of pleasure burned away all my worries, my concerns, my guilt, my hopes, my dreams—everything—leaving only the current moment, where everything had ascended past perfection.
He thrust into me three more times before his body stiffened over me, he let out a low groan in my ear and his cock pulsated inside me. He kissed me, aggressively at first, but softening into a delicate and tender caressing.
I remember my hands were locked behind his neck, but I don’t remember when I clasped them there.
I remember asking him what we were going to do after we left Paris, but I don’t remember his answer.
I remember a sound breaking the moment of inner peace, but I don’t remember when I realized they were police sirens.
Chapter 8:
Mark
In Chemist's Conclusion, a cocktail bar only a couple of blocks away from 2Resonance's building, Zandra sits on a stool at a small table shaped like a laboratory beaker with Julietta lingering close beside her. In between us, a dance floor formed from square marble tiles that resembles the periodic table is crowded with people dancing, but the glimpses of her send a charge through me that is more than a chemical reaction.
“Dude.” Aaron slaps me on the back before sitting down beside me. He sets a martini glass in front of him. The sprig of mint floating in the middle of the liquor dips under the ice. “We are going to get Tunest to run away with their tail between their legs. I bet after we’re done with this, we’ll beat them in the app store. It is absolutely genius using college bands. I can’t believe Zandra just got here and she’s already transforming the company. Your company. So cool.”
“Yeah,” I say, taking a gulp of my whiskey. I’m on my fourth glass and the tension is slipping away like a snakeskin. “She’s certainly impressive.”
“You should lock her down,” he says, taking a quick sip of his drink. “Write up a contract saying she can’t leave for so many years.”
“Aaron,” I say.
“Yeah?”
“Don’t tell me what to do with my company or employees.”
He swallows, his Adam’s apple bobbing. “Right. Sorry, sir. Mr. Acorsi. I didn’t mean to be, uh, disrespectful. I just…I was just giving some ideas. I’m sorry. I’m not used to drinking a lot. Excuse me. I’m gonna…go somewhere else.”
