Chapter Thirty Three
Maggie
“What’s gotten into you?” I whisper with a laugh.
Maryia smirks as she looks over her shoulder at me. We move past the main bathroom downstairs with all the stalls before moving to the back of the house. This place is like a fucking mansion, but when we’ve been coming here since we were kids, you learn it quickly. Pulling us into the single bathroom down a back hallway, she locks the door behind her before giggling. I smile at her as we practically smash together. Our mouths, our hands, our hips. We’re everywhere, all over each other.
I kiss my way down her neck and she sighs as she tips her head up to the ceiling.
“I missed you,” she moans.
I smirk against her skin as I pepper her chest with kisses.
“Sweetheart, I ate you until you came all over my face before we got dressed to come here,” I tease.
“I know,” she whines. “I need more.”
My eyes flick up to her and I quickly lower to my feet. Maryia lifts her leg up, hiking it over my shoulder as she lifts her dress all the way up. When I slip underneath, I notice that she isn’t wearing any panties. Little slut. My little slut.
Her pussy is glistening, and I can smell her arousal from here. I waste no time in flattening my tongue, dragging it through her before groaning at her taste. She tastes so fucking good. One of the best pussies I’ve ever had.
Maryia begins whimpering and moaning, grinding herself against me as my tongue begins circling her clit.
“Yeah,” she moans.
My hands dig into her thighs as I keep my hold on her, licking and sucking until she’s a whimpering mess for me. Her hand buries into my hair, tightening as her body begins to tremble.
“Oh fuck. Oh shit. Fuck!” she moans, slapping her other hand over her mouth as she screams her release.
Her orgasm hits my tongue as I lick her clean. Slowly, I stand up and Maryia stumbles, her legs clearly a little shaky as she lets out a ragged breath. She mirrors my smile before lust takes over her pretty brown eyes. She pushes me backwards, my ass bumping into the bathroom sink before she drops to her knees. My eyebrows lift in surprise. She’s gone down on me a few times, sure. Each time, though, she’s been really shy about it. Understandably so. I always tell her it’s not required, and we can go at her pace.
Right now, I’m fucking loving this pace.
Her hands bunch up my dress before she slips underneath and pulls my panties to the side. When her tongue runs through me, I audibly moan before gripping the back of her head. I help guide her, forcing her to match a rhythm that I like before I tap the back of her head.
“Fuck, yes. God, that feels good. You like licking my pussy, sweetheart?” I ask as I look down at her.
Her eyes come to me as she nods, her tongue swirling around my clit and forcing my hips to buck.
“Shit!” I cry as she does it again and again before slipping a finger inside me.
The pace is a little unsteady at first, and a bit awkward, but as soon as she finds my g-spot, it’s all I need. My orgasm begins building low before taking over every cell of my body. Sinking my teeth into my lip, I shout out in pleasure. Maryia licks and sucks on me as I come all over her finger and face before she slowly pulls away.
I attempt to catch my breath as she stands to her feet. Reaching out for her, I drag her into me, pressing my lips to hers. Her taste is still on my tongue and mine on hers. The kiss has a hypnotic flavor that has me desperate for more.
When I pull away, I rest my forehead against hers and laugh.
“Fuck, I think this is the best party I’ve ever been to.”
She giggles at that and nods.
“I should probably get back out there. My parents said they want me to meet someone,” she says, a hint of sadness to her tone.
“Hey,” I say as I catch her chin. “It will all work out, remember? We will make whatever happens work, okay?”
She nods like she believes me, which I’m surprised by because, honestly, I don’t even believe me. For either of our sakes. It’s the Brethren. Who fucking knows what’s to come? Without the whole goddamn hierarchy being burnt to the ground, I can promise there will be no life that I look forward to, that’s for sure.
A knock comes from the door, startling us apart. Quickly, we fix our dresses, cleaning up Maryia’s smeared makeup before looping our arms together. I fake giggle at something she says as we unlock the door and step out together. An old man is standing there, smiling as we pass him, none the wiser to what just happened in the bathroom he’s stepping inside.
When we get to the main hallway, we split off just in case the wrong set of eyes spot us. My eyes roam the room, quickly avoiding my mother and Harry as I set my sights on Skyla. I walk up to her, bumping my shoulder into hers as she turns to me and smiles. Well, for a second she does. Then soon her eyes move to an animated Liam as he grins and laughs with a group of Elder men.
“Is he alright?” I ask as I gesture towards Liam.
Obviously, I don’t have a clue what happens during an Elder induction, but I do know the inductees leave looking like a hollow version of themselves. So, I’m not sure why Liam looks more boisterous than ever.
“No,” Skyla, Asher, Ronan, and Wesley all answer as one.
I look around at all the guys before pausing on my best friend. She looks worried for him. Her teeth are sunk into her lip as her brows knit together.
“He seems off,” I say as I gesture to Liam. “A little too happy.”
Skyla nods before her eyes round. I look to see what has her attention when I see Mrs. Walcott pushing Maryia towards him, literally shoving her into his chest. He catches her easily and they smile at each other. Guess this is who her mother was scheming to set her up with.
“Jesus. Of course, my girlfriend is being arranged to your boyfriend,” I mutter with a shake of my head.
“You don’t think that’s what’s happening, do you? I mean, you’ve been introduced to a lot of men at parties like these, and you’re not engaged,” Skyla says defensively.
I shrug. A lot is subjective. A handful at most, but for some reason, Miles Reynolds seems to be the ‘pick.’ I can’t for the life of me see why.
“Because I’m an insufferable cunt.” I laugh. Intentionally so. Maryia…she can’t help but be sweet and charming. It’s who she is; it’s who Liam is. Honestly, from an outsider’s perspective, they are kinda perfect for each other.
Skyla frowns at that as I bump her shoulder to grab her attention.
“Relax, she’s not into him. She just came all over my tongue in the bathroom before she voluntarily ate my pussy until I saw stars. Trust me, she’s gay as fuck.”
Skyla seems to relax a little before turning her attention back to them. I can see her getting more and more jealous by the second and I know nothing I will say will put her at ease. If I had five partners I was trying to make sure didn’t get married off, well, four, since Asher is her husband, I guess I’d be pretty territorial, too. Though the way Annie Williams, Ronan’s fiancée, mysteriously died seems a little too convenient. Especially when Vincent hasn’t been attending school much. Do I think he’s capable of killing someone just so Skyla wouldn’t have to go through that kind of heartbreak? Absofuckinglutly. Like I said, he’s a psycho. The psycho better not touch my girl, though.
Asher takes Skyla for a walk, ushering her away as our partners laugh and smile at one another. From my perspective, I can see it’s a friendly, platonic conversation, but the scheming mothers to their left definitely have more in mind.
“You really think she’s not interested?” Wesley asks.
I turn over my shoulder and nod.
“Maryia is actually pretty upset about being set up, I know where her loyalties lie.”
“Good,” Ronan says. “Last thing we need is another goddamn obsessed fiancée.”
I lift a brow at him. “Was that why Annie ended up dying? She was obsessed with you?”
Ronan narrows his eyes at me like he doesn’t like that I caught that piece, and I can’t help but shrug and smirk. He’s the most stoic of the bunch, well, maybe besides Vincent, but he’s also the easiest to rile up. He thinks he’s so in control all the time. Maybe it’s because of how he and Christopher were raised, like two princes in a palace. Make no mistake, he’s a pawn in this game just as much as the rest of us.
Suddenly, Liam approaches us, Maryia on his arm. I casually slide up beside her, sharing a secretive smirk as I look at Liam.
“So, what the fuck, Walcott? Think you can just move in on my girl?” I say to fuck with him.
His smile is in place, but up close, I can see how fake it is.
“Not my doing,” he says.
I nod as Asher comes back to the group, looking around with a frown.
“Where is Skyla?”
“You lost her?” Wesley balks.
“No!” Asher defends as Ronan’s head begins swiveling.
“Here she comes,” he says as Skyla rejoins us.
“You good?” Asher asks her.
She nods and I watch as Asher narrows his eyes at her. Yeah, right. Something is definitely up.
“I’d like to go home now,” Skyla says.
As if it were that simple, Asher, Wesley, and Ronan all begin escorting her to the door when she pauses to look at Liam. He nods to Maryia as he speaks.
“I need to take Maryia home first.”
Skyla doesn’t seem to like that answer, and I’m more than happy to step in.
“I got her,” I say as I loop my arm through Maryia’s other arm. “I mean, you are literally all over my girlfriend, bro.”
“As if I had a choice,” Liam grits through his teeth before casting an apologetic look to Maryia. “Sorry, no offense.”
Maryia shakes her head, leaning into me slightly.
“None taken. You know I’m…spoken for.”
I laugh at that.
“That’s one way to call being absolutely pussy whipped.”
Maryia’s mouth drops open in outrage as I smirk at her. That look quickly morphs into a blush as she shrugs her shoulders. Such a good little girl.
“At least let me make it look like I’m taking her home for our parents,” Liam says as he begins walking with Maryia.
I keep my arm looped through hers as we all slip out of the party. Well, almost. Christopher Putnam stops us for a moment, his eyes roaming over us all.
“Are you kids off?”
Asher steps up to speak. “We are. Skyla isn’t feeling well, and I have a big presentation in class tomorrow.”
Christopher nods. “Good man. I hope you feel better soon,” he says before placing a kiss on Skyla’s cheek.
On paper, the interaction is harmless, but it doesn’t feel that way. Malice practically seeps out of that man, and I can’t help but watch him with hesitance as he pulls away and turns his attention on someone else.
We all take the opportunity to slip out of the party when I feel eyes burning a hole into the back of my head. Pausing, I turn to see a pair of shining blue ones; even from all the way across the room, I can see how bright they are. She sways ever so slightly, clutching Thomas Booth’s arm for nothing but stability, I’m sure of it. She’s completely fucking wasted. She always seems to be these days.
Thomas lowers his hand before outright palming her ass. Bridgette squirms in his hold, her eyes staying on mine as she tries to pull away from him. It’s like her eyes are begging me to help her, but how could I? Why would I? I can never tell if being with him is what she actually wants or not. Maybe her father is forcing her like they are forcing me with Miles. That would be too fucked up, though, right? He’s so old. He’s known her since she was a baby. He’s disgusting. Take your pick.
It's like Bridgette can read my thoughts, like she knows I won’t march over there and break her free. Again, how could I even do that in the first place? A sad look crosses Bridgette’s face as she shrugs in understanding, like there is no saving her. I watch the hope drain from her already wobbly posture before turning back and facing the older couple they are speaking with. I can almost hear a piece of my chest cracking deep inside me.
“Mags?” I hear a faint voice call.
I can’t look away, though. Looking away feels too awful, like I’m leaving her to fend for herself. Bridgette is a tough bitch, but even the toughest ones need a lifeline from time to time.
“Maggie?” Skyla says a little louder, forcing my eyes to her. “Are you okay?”
I close my eyes, shaking my head before nodding, slapping on a fake as fuck smile.
“I’m great. Never better. Let’s go.”
Skyla looks at me hesitantly, and I don’t even attempt to look Maryia’s way. I can already feel the anger radiating off her. For such a sweet girl, she sure has a short fuse.
Once our cars are brought forward, Liam and I quickly trade Maryia, slipping her into my car before they take off in theirs. She doesn’t say anything to me as I start up the car, but I don’t exactly try to strike up conversation either. In fact, we stay completely silent until we get to campus.
“Are you fucking her?” Maryia asks.
“What?”
“Your stepsister. Bridgette Brenton. Are you fucking her?” she asks again, her tone hard and abrasive.
I frown as I pull into a parking spot, turning off the car as I turn to face her.
“No,” I answer.
Maryia stares at me for a moment.
“No? That’s all you have to say?”
I feel the beginning of a fight brewing, and I gotta be honest, I’m not mentally prepared. Letting out a soft sigh, I rest my head against the headrest.
“What do you want me to say, Maryia?”
“Uhm, I don’t know. How about ‘of course not! Why would you think that?’ or maybe ‘hell no. That’s disgusting. She’s my stepsister.’ Fuck! I’d even settle for a ‘never. You’re the only one for me.’”
I turn my head to face her.
“I’m not sleeping with her,” I reiterate.
That seems to only piss her off, though. She throws open her car door and begins storming through campus. Heaving out a heavy sigh, I get out of the car and begin chasing after her.
“Where are you going? Stop,” I say.
She turns to face me in a rage, her nostrils flared as she closes the distance between us.
“You’ve fucked her! Haven’t you? Before!”
I stay silent because nothing I say will help the situation right now. Hurt stabs through her features as she shakes her head.
“Fucking unbelievable. I knew you were a whore, sleeping your way through the female population at this school, but I never thought you’d stoop so…low,” she sneers.
My hackles rise at her tone. Not in my defense, though. Why does she feel the need to belittle Bridgette? She’s not even here to defend herself. She doesn’t even know who Bridgette is. Not the true version. Maryia only sees the bitchy, shallow, attention seeking version she lets others see. That’s not who she is deep down. That’s not who I fell in love with. I fell in love with the poet who said what was on her mind one hundred percent of the time. The girl who was so damn comfortable in her own skin, even if she felt insecure at times. The girl who just got me, better than I’ve ever got myself. She will never know her like I do, so I don’t know why she feels the right to judge her.
“We all have a past. I didn’t think we were in the kind of relationship that judged or treated one another a certain way because of it,” I say.
She laughs bitterly, shaking her head before stomping off.
“Where are you going?” I call out.
“To bed,” she says over her shoulder. “I really like you, Maggie, but I’m fucking pissed right now, and I will say shit that hurts you if I don’t leave now.”
With that, she storms away, her figure growing smaller and smaller by the second until she rounds the corner to the Parris dorm. Well, I guess it’s good she’s self-aware enough to remove herself from the situation.
I guess.