Chapter Twelve

MAX BIT THE CORNER OF HIS LIP AND RAISED AN EYEbrOW. “Want to sneak away?”

“Really?” I asked. While I enjoyed all of the snacks—it wasn’t exactly the most exciting event to be at.

He scrubbed his palm over his face. “I can’t stand being here anymore.”

“Ditch the fundraiser?” I asked, looking for a waiter, figuring we could get some hors d’oeuvres to go.

“Maybe just find somewhere to hide.”

I took his hand, and we ran out of the rotunda with me giggling like some kid, and him shaking his head, trying not to smile.

We stumbled into a bathroom, locking the door behind us, clawing at each other’s clothes. He ripped off my jacket, and I pulled off his as he began to unbuckle my belt. I spun him around, and he put his hands on the vanity as I dropped my drawers. I reached around and undid his pants, pulling them and his underwear down.

He gasped as I ran a finger between his cheeks. I eased in, and he felt like heaven. I held his hips and dove in more as he grabbed the edge of the sink and barfed into it. It was quite the sound.

I rubbed his back. “Oh, baby.”

He chucked up some more. As I was pulling out of him, he shook his head.

“Sure?” I asked because he seemed pretty sick.

He dry heaved some and nodded. I gripped his hips but didn’t move in him because, well, he just barfed. And he wasn’t done. A new wave of vomit spewed from him.

“Jesus, Max.”

He panted and grabbed a hand towel, wiping his mouth. “I don’t think I should’ve eaten so many of those shrimp things.”

“Let’s get you out of here.”

“We’re not done yet.”

“Really?”

“Are you disgusted?”

“Well ….”

His face fell.

“Let’s just rinse out the sink some, then,” I suggested. We ran the faucet, and he gargled with water, then we were at it again. He put his palms on the mirror and arched his back. I snaked my hands under his shirt, up his torso, and flicked his nipples. He gasped as I found his spot deep in him. As I concentrated on pushing into the spot he liked, he cried out, his chest heaving.

“I’m too loud. Oh, God, they’re going to hear us.”

I grabbed one of the rolled-up hand towels on the counter. “Open up.”

He opened, and I put the towel in his mouth. He bit down, and I grabbed the towel, holding one end in each hand, and fucked him. I tried not to pound him too hard, because he did have an upset stomach. He stood up on his toes as he tightened around me, gripping the edge of the vanity and screaming against the towel I held.

“That’s my alpha. Scream for me.”

He hollered as his body shook, and as his eyes rolled into the back of his head, I thrust hard, grunting as I released. “I kinda like holding this. It feels like I’m holding the reins of a horse. I rode you good, didn’t I?”

His mouth dropped open, and he let out a stuttered breath, warm liquid seeping from him.

“Oh, hell, Max. You like that, me riding you so hard, now you’re coming on me, feel it. Ride it out.”

I pulled on the towel more, and he groaned, reaching back, grabbing my ass, and digging his nails in. “Feels so good, doesn’t it?”

He gasped and moaned, squeezing my cock so tight in his hole. I began to swell again and rode him until I was once again releasing, and he was panting. He didn’t release anything. For some reason, he never had a lot of come, but I kept pleasuring him until some liquid finally bubbled out of his tip.