He kisses me again, slower this time, like he really can’t get enough. Then he carries me back to the counter without ever breaking the kiss.
He sets me down gently, then reaches for some tissue, carefully cleaning between my thighs with tenderness. His touch is gentle, almost worshipful, as he wipes away the evidence of what we just did.
I watch him, heart fluttering. He helps rearrange my hair, tucking stray strands back into place with careful fingers. I reach up and wipe the smudged lipstick from the corner of his mouth, my thumb lingering on his bottom lip.
When I turn to the mirror to fix my makeup, I barely recognize myself. My lips are swollen, my cheeks flushed, my eyes bright and hazy. I look thoroughly fucked.
We step out of the restroom together. Only then does it hit me fully, we just had sex in a public bathroom at a Society event.Anyone could have walked in. And in that moment, I hadn’t cared at all. I had been too lost in him.
I just lost my virginity in a restroom at a Society event. And I don’t regret a single second of it.
Now, as we walk back toward the main hall, I feel his cum slowly dripping down my inner thigh. I press my legs together, trying to hide it, but Maxim notices.
A wicked smirk curves his lips as he leans down, his hand sliding discreetly to smack my ass.
“Let it drip,” he murmurs against my ear. “I want you walking around with my cum running down your legs.”
His filthy words send another pulse of arousal through me. A few days ago, I was insisting I would never sleep with him, even after marriage. And now here I am, barely engaged, freshly fucked in a bathroom, walking around with his release still inside me… and wanting more.
Word for the wise, make sure you don't end up alone with a man you're attracted to, in a bathroom. Just saying.
As we walk back to our table, I feel every single eye in the room on us.
I wonder if anyone can tell what we just did. If they can see it on my face, in the way I walk a little more carefully, in thepossessive hand Maxim keeps on my lower back. In my swollen lips and red cheeks.
I decide I don’t care. If they want to judge me, that’s their problem.
When we reach our table, one of the younger women, the one sitting beside the loud, misogynistic man from earlier, catches my eye and gives me a discreet, conspiratorial smile.
She leans in slightly as I sit and whispers, “You go, girl.”
I can’t help the small, surprised smile that breaks across my face.
The conversation around the table resumes, but I can barely focus. Maxim’s hand rests on my thigh under the table.
Every few minutes, I feel another slow trickle of his release sliding down my inner thigh. I press my legs together, trying to contain it, but that only makes it worse.
Maxim leans close, his breath hot against my ear. “You feel my cum dripping out of your tight little pussy, don’t you?”
I bite my lip hard, nodding slightly. My face burns.
“Good girl,” he murmurs. “Keep it inside you. I want you sitting here full of me while these bastards talk.”
His hand slides higher under the table, pushing the fabric of my dress up my thigh. I tense as his fingers find my soaked pussy.
He pushes a thick finger inside me, slowly fucking his cum back into my pussy while we sit at a table full of powerful men.
I grip the edge of the table, trying to keep my expression neutral. He curls his fingers just right, stroking that sensitive spot inside me while his thumb circles my swollen clit.
The pleasure is overwhelming. My breathing turns shallow. I’m so close?—
And then he pulls his fingers out.
I nearly whimper in frustration.
He does it again and again. Teasing me. Edging me. Pushing me right to the brink only to stop just before I fall over.
Every time I get close, he slows down or pulls away completely, leaving me panting and aching.
