Chapter 32: Maia

Maia hadn't expectedthe guilt she felt, seeing the two retreating forms of her peers dragging their luggage down the drive. First, it was only severe second-hand embarrassment at the fact that producers made them separate and go down different sides of the circular drive to ensure they got individual shots. But when they came together at the end, their hands twining with each other's—that was when Maia thought she probably should have spoken up.

She'd been loud and likely obnoxious about her reluctance to come on this show. It wasn't fair of her to watch another girl walk away. She should have sought out the boys, told them to vote her out so they could have avoided all of this.

So why hadn't she?

"Stop doing that," a voice warned in her ear.

She didn't have to turn to see who it was. She knew his voice by now. She knew the feel of him at her back.

"Doing what?"

Killian, likely impatient that she hadn't faced him herself, spun her by her shoulders. "Stop telling yourself it should have been you."

"Maybe it should have."

"And yet I made sure it wasn't," he told her, winking.

If she were keeping up with her pretend narrative, she'd be frustrated with Killian. She'd told him that she only wanted to be friends and he didn't have any right to continue pursuing her, to continue fighting for her within the manor. In the outside world, that behavior would be a massive, glaring red flag.

But Maia also knew that, if she'd been totally honest when she'd told Killian to back off, he'd have done so. Of course, Maia hadn't been totally honest. She'd been lying through her teeth and Killian had the uncanny and unfortunate ability to see right through her.

So instead of admonishing him for his defense of her, Maia only said, "She deserved to be here."

He shook his head. "Danica didn't have a love match in here."

And I did?

She couldn't ask that out loud because she knew what he would say. So she said nothing. And Killian took her cues and he said nothing, either. He only pulled her into him, letting her burrow her face into his neck while his arms bracketed her waist and his hand rubbed circles on her back.

It settled her until she found Eloise over his shoulder. The other girl's eyes were wide at the display and the guilt hit Maia again. Despite Killian's attention, she wasn't his partner. And how heartless of her was it to spit on that right in front Eloise? If she'd wanted this with Killian, she could have submitted for a swap.

But she didn't.

And now she had to live with the consequences.

There was something firm pressing into Maia's back. It wasn't overly large, unlike what its owner wanted to believe. She'd never sought it out. But Maia knew it, all the same.

"Are you kidding me right now, Killer?"

Maxon's hot, unsettling breath wooshed over her ears. "Can't help it."

"Maybe not," she scoffed. "But you can keep it to yourself, at least."

He wiggled innocently, like he might only be trying to get comfortable. It was a routine, by now. Maxon, losing his everloving mind over the thought of a woman next to him in bed. Maia, scooting to the edge of her mattress. Maxon, following her until his erection settled somewhere against her.

"Thought you might want to know what you do to me," he told her.

"What about the way I act gives you that impression? I'd like to know so I can adjust accordingly."

Maxon flung his arm over her waist. "No need to get snippy. If you're not into it, just say so."

"I have," she growled. "Every night for over a week now."

"You'll change your mind."

She dug her nails into the hand over her belly, making sure he felt the bite of them before flinging the arm right back where it came from. She didn't give him the opportunity to put it back before she was on her feet, glaring down at him.

"What is it with you men and thinking you're so fucking irresistible that we won't be able to help but change our minds about you?" Maia demanded. "If I tell you I don't want something, that means I don't goddamned want it! And you need to operate under that assumption until I tell you otherwise."

Maxon sat up in bed, somehow both scowling at her and twisting his face up in confusion. "You chose me!" he argued. "How the hell is that not you telling me otherwise?"

"Yes, Maxon. I chose not to switch partners. That isn't an open invitation to rub your penis all over me."

Maia was fully aware of how much of a hypocrite she was being, punishing one man for crimes she couldn't bring herself to punish another for. In her head, it was different. It was a man she reluctantly wanted versus a man she was reluctantly with. Neither of them seemed to hear the words she was saying but only one of them saw her.

Maxon saw a body and felt entitled to it. Killian seemed to see right through her body and into her shriveling heart.

But it still didn't feel like she was being all that fair.

She didn't feel very much like preaching when she was so unsure of herself. So, with all the disdain she could muster, she flipped Maxon the bird and told him to enjoy having the bed to himself for the evening.

Maybe she'd just go ahead and get a headstart on her morning. At one AM. She could set up camp in the backyard and be there when the rest of the contestants wandered out. The weather had been beautiful, after all. Warm and kissing against everyone's skin in defiance of the somber mood.

Yes, Maia would make her home on one of the sunbeds. Maybe she'd be able to eke out a little more sleep without the harshness of artificial lights beating down on her face.

Resolved, she made her way to the backyard in her bare feet, her shorts, and the baggiest tee she could find. It had felt rebellious and freeing to choose her pajamas, to say a ferocious fuck you to whoever thought they'd be getting her sexed-up all the time.

It was unfortunate that she still looked pretty good.

Especially so when she arrived at the sunbeds to find another body already spread across one. The body she thought about more than was acceptable. The body she imagined on hers after she'd kicked Maxon away. Firm and perfect and bulging in all the right places.

"What are you doing out here?" she found herself snapping.

Killian's eyes blinked her into focus, warm and clear even in the moonlight. He swallowed. "I just…wanted to give Eloise a little bit of space tonight."

"Oh."

"Oh," he repeated. "What are you doing out here?"

She scrunched her nose. "Couldn't stand to share a bed with Maxon again."

Killian shifted, his lines sharpening and poised to pounce. "What did he do?"

"Nothing out of the ordinary. Just…doesn't seem to be taking the hint that I'm not into him."

He bobbed his head, slow. "Guess this manor is full of guys like that."

Sensing a discussion she wasn't sure she wanted to have, Maia plopped herself on the other sunbed. "Are you talking about you?"

"Yeah, suppose so."

There was the guilt again.

"I'm sorry, Killian."

"You don't have to be sorry for not being into me," he assured her. But he sounded so broken about it.

When had Maia ever cared whether a man was broken up about her? When had she ever felt the need to soothe another person who'd expected something so unreasonable from her?

Never.

And she'd certainly never felt she had to apologize for it.

She'd also never wanted to utter her next words aloud.

"I am into you."

God, she sounded so stupid. So juvenile. I'm into you. Who fucking said that anymore? His silence had her spiraling, the blank, blinking expression making her skin hot. She'd thought she'd revealed something important, just then. So where was his reaction? Where was his celebration of finally obtaining what he'd been trying to pry out of her.

Fuck, this was why she didn't do feelings. This exact reason. Every single stupid time people let themselves have feelings, it was just thrown back in their faces. Did Maia really think she might be the exception, however fleeting the fancy?

"You're into me," Killian echoed.

"That's what I said, isn't it?" she snapped.

He smirked and Maia wanted to pounce on it. Finally, a reaction—something. He matched her stance at the edge of his bed and then brought his elbows to his thighs and his hands to his chin. "I'm not sure. Can you go ahead and repeat it for me?"

So he was playing with her. That was better than nothing. If he wanted to play, Maia could play.

"I didn't come out here to feed your ego, Todd."

"No one would ever accuse you of feeding their ego, honey."

"Honey?"

He raised his hands in defense, leaning back on the bed again. "Had to try it out."

"Why?"

"‘Cause you're so sweet."

Maia reached behind her for a pillow to sling at him. He halted her progress, leaping from his bed to hers and pinning her limbs to the hard mattress. Without defense, all she could manage was "Funny."

"Not being funny," he informed her. "You're the sweetest thing I've ever tasted."

The words had her shivering, had her nipples hardening against her shirt and her toes curling uselessly in the air. She'd tried very, very hard not to think about that night with Killian. The one where she'd actually given in. The way she'd soaked her panties just from kissing him. The way he'd gotten her off with just his fingers.

But the image of him licking his fingers clean while she was still trying to figure out how to breathe…well, that stayed with her. She'd tattoo it on her skin if that weren't so pathetic and if she actually needed a reminder for something on a loop in her head.

She wanted so desperately to see it again.

Where would that leave them, though? Would Maia just be shoving him away after the next orgasm, then pulling him back in for the next? She didn't know if she was strong enough to do it, really. She could almost hear the internal war she'd have with herself, her reasoning that it would probably be easier to just keep him around and that she'd be fine if she just reminded herself it meant nothing every time she came. She'd convince herself that there was no danger if she never returned the favor, as if she weren't already salivating over the thought of getting her own taste.

And what would Killian tell himself, when he was inevitably buried inside her? Would he be telling himself the same things? That it was going nowhere and was all just for fun?

Of course he wouldn't.

Unable to hold it anymore, she blurted, "Why do you do it?"

Killian lifted himself until he was perched over her, hovering now rather than pinning. "Do what?"

"Why do you keep trying?"

"Because you're worth trying for."

Maia shook her head against the mattress, her hair tangling beneath her. "I haven't been good to you," she argued. "I haven't earned…this."

Killian's fingers snuck around her neck and he lifted until he was cradling her. Holding her head and her attention with the same grip. His thumb brushed over her cheek. She caught herself nuzzling into the touch like an affection-starved kitten.

"Love isn't something you have to earn, Maia."

That should have made her pull back. She didn't. She just said, "You don't love me."

"Maybe not yet," he allowed. "But I'm getting there."

Again, he pinned her, at the same time pulling her up to meet him. Maia could feel her obsession growing, her fantasies of their bodies pressed together multiplying.

There had been many men in her life so far who'd insisted they loved her. She'd never believed them, not like she believed Killian. In the past, she'd known they were feeding her lines they thought she wanted to hear or they were so enamored by superficial beauty that they didn't care what the feelings actually were. She'd always gotten rid of them after their confessions.

So why the fuck did she want to pull Killian even closer?

Why did she want…

Actually, who the fuck cared why she wanted it? Maia swallowed the centimeters between them and captured Killian's mouth. The lips that she dreamed of constantly. He gave in without hesitation, the hand not on her neck moving to clasp the crown of her head.

It was so tender, that move. She was used to being held by her hips or her waist or her ass. Moves that made her feel possessed. There was still an element of that, to be fair. But Killian's hands didn't feel like they owned her. They felt like he'd molded them to fit her.

Maia hauled herself up into him until he had no choice but to retreat. Even then, she didn't release his mouth and he didn't release her, either. She walked him back, letting his calves hit the bed, letting him fall back. Letting her climb and straddle him. She gripped his sides, using the leverage to grind into him.

It was every invitation he needed. Killian released her head and allowed his hands to find the place her thighs creased into her hips. Her hands did their own exploring, departing from his sides to trail over his pecs and up his neck to tangle in his hair. His tongue lashed at her and she didn't have time to wonder how he knew that that was what she needed. How he knew that gentle teasing and trying to coax her wouldn't spur her further.

She wanted the fight and she wanted to win.

Killian pressed her down onto his erection. The ridge of him in his thin shorts had her shuddering and moaning into his mouth. It was all she could do to return the favor, swiveling her hips to get them both a little bit of friction. The fabric of her own shorts started to stick in the mess she was making.

He felt it, too, because he smiled into her kiss. "You gonna let me have another taste, honey?" Maia nodded and it was mere seconds before he was fisting the front of her shorts. The seam of the fabric dug into her and pressed against her clit. He smirked. "Then give me a little more first."

If the sensations weren't enough to flood her, his words were. She wasn't the whimpering type but, for him, she had to. Killian sat up, straightening the both of them out.

"Put your hands on my knees."

God, if he wanted her to ride him, right here, just like this, she would. But Killian didn't say anything else right away. Instead, he released her shorts, only to shove the stretched-out fabric to the side. She couldn't get enough of that hunger in his eyes. She wanted to see it every day. She wanted?—

"Let me see you move, honey."

So he did want her to ride him. Maia obliged and she spared not even half a thought to the fact that there were cameras all over this backyard. If he wanted to see her, she would show him. It was the least she could do.

She slid against him, once, twice, loving the fit of him between her legs. He grunted when she applied a little more pressure but it was apparently all he needed to get to work. Suddenly, his fingers were sliding through her wetness, teasing their way through her pussy and strumming her clit before he retracted and brought them to his mouth.

Maia jolted against him, the entirety of her straining for his touch. She didn't care where. For all her desperation, it kinda pissed her off when he didn't put his fingers back after he'd cleaned them. It seemed he was content to watch her tumble towards an orgasm all by herself.

Well, she wasn't going to beg for it.

Impatient, Maia released his knees, instead crossing her arms in front of her to grab the hem of her shirt and rip it over her head. His pupils, already dilated, blew out even more at the sight of her. But he still didn't touch.

She would touch herself, then.

She kept up her pace—Christ, was she really dry humping a man on national fucking television?—but brought her hands up to her breasts, teasing her own nipples when it seemed Killian wasn't planning on doing it.

When he did touch her, it was to rip her hands away.

"What the fuck?" she demanded, her hips halting.

"You're blocking my view." He grinned up at her and released her hands. He cupped her, brushing his thumbs over her sensitive nipples. "You look so good on my lap."

Maia was glad she'd abandoned her mic pack in her suite because she didn't want anyone else to ever hear Killian say those words. Rather than saying so, she let her lips tilt up. "I look good everywhere."

"Yeah," he said. "But you belong here."

She rolled her eyes in tandem with her hips. "Just fuck me, Killian. I'm tired of waiting."

With a show of strength he didn't often exploit, Killian flipped them over. He spread her on the sunbed and wasted little time in removing her shorts.

"Are you a little brat, Maia?" he asked. "Not much into being a good girl, are you?"

"You don't—" Killian cut off her words with his tongue, back inside her mouth, his kisses again shooing all thought from her head. When he pulled back, she tried again. "You don't want a good girl."

He laughed and placed kiss after kiss over her skin in his journey to the edge of the bed. "You're right. I want you."

Then Maia's thighs were pressed open and his tongue was nudging into her channel.

"Killian," she sighed. Taking this as encouragement, Killian suctioned his lips over her clit. She pushed his head back, his name again falling from her. "Killian. I don't want your mouth right now."

In this, at least, he was responsive. He launched himself back up her body and licked the taste of herself into her mouth. "Tell me what you want then, honey."

"You know what I want."

"And I want you to tell me."

How true to herself would she be, if she did tell him? Sure, she'd never shied from asking for what she wanted. But what she wanted had never been so…vulnerable. She could tell herself it was just sex all she wanted but was it possible to have just sex with Killian Todd?

She said nothing and didn't keep her eyes on his to watch them fall. Instead, she angled her gaze lower, to where she was slipping past his waistband and shoving his shorts down his legs. Only when she was gliding the hard, angry tip of him through her arousal did he speak.

"Condoms, Mai—fuck," he grunted. "All the protection is still inside."

It was a fair point but she was prepared. "You know they had us all tested. And I'm on birth control, Killian. I wouldn't be on this show if I wasn't. If you want—I mean, I'm fine with?—"

Killian, apparently, had grown impatient with all the fanfare. He didn't waste time being gentle with her, didn't very much care for flourish. He didn't bother making sure she was ready—he knew she was and she'd told him as much when he'd tried to eat her out.

No, Killian plunged into her so abruptly, so deliciously, that all Maia could manage was a keening whine.

"Not as much of a brat with my cock inside you, huh?"

No, she guessed she wasn't. And it seemed he wasn't so much the sweetheart in the throes of passion. How precious it was to know that this beast who—well, there was no other word for it—plundered her wouldn't still be this beast when he was finished. He'd be Killian. Sweet and generous and funny and happy Killian.

Her muscles tightened around him, trying to keep him inside when it seemed he was determined to see his punishing pace through. "This what you wanted?" he asked. "You wanted me to give you my cock, didn't you? But you didn't want to ask for it. Next time, Maia. Next time, I'm making you beg. I'm gonna make you look me in my eyes and tell me how much you fucking want me."

It sounded like her nightmare but she was too busy focusing on the way his thumb had found her clit again.

He kept going, thrusting and speaking together. "Because we both know you do, honey. You want me just as much as I want you. And next time, you're gonna admit it, okay? We're not doing this again until you do."

Killian slipped out and flipped her over and she tried not to be offended at the thought that he didn't want to see her face anymore. Maybe it was better, though, to not attach her to it when he finally came. Before she could decide how she felt, though, he was right back in. And he wouldn't let her brace her arms on the bed, wouldn't let her settle into the position.

Instead he had her straight and plastered against his front, one hand on her throat and one with a bruising grip on her hip.

"Touch yourself, Maia," he ordered, knowing without question that she would obey. Her knees trembled from the effort of keeping her up. "That's right," he cooed. "Take fucking part in this. I'm fucking you because you want me to. And you're with me because you want me, damn it."

She'd lost all her faculties because she moaned, "I want you."

Instantly, she tried to cover her mouth. Shove the words back in. Killian didn't let her, using the grip on her throat to turn her. To force her mouth against his in a kiss just as feral as his fucking.

It was when she was falling apart that she heard him say, "I know you do."