Chapter EIGHT.

MAEVE HAWTHORN

“Tell me to stop, Maeve,” he repeated and my body shivered at the sound of my name, “I can’t—” His voice trailed off as his tongue owned my mouth.

I also wanted to stop him, I wanted to ask him to get away from me, I wanted to yell and tell him just how much I hated him all over again but I could barely do that now.

My entire being was filled with a spark that he had ignited in me, I was too engrossed in the way my body felt against him, the way my boob pushed up against his chest when he released it, his breath against my lips as he took those little pauses to tell me to stop him.

I was lost in just how perfectly he was kissing me to ask him to stop touching me. His voice was gruff and soothing and each time he pulled away from me, I wanted to curse at him.

“D— Don’t stop.” I begged before I could know it, I was barely aware of my own voice as I pressed my body even harder against him.

His hands slipped up my arms, pulling me even closer, so close that even the tiniest