She pressed her lips desperately into his once more. Her hands traveled down his shirt and her fingers slipped through his belt loops, grinding him against her.
She wanted what she had been denied by all this. Before something came for their magic. Her hands traveled lower.
Mal snatched her hands swiftly in his own, holding her wrist apart, breaking their kiss and putting space between them. “Stop it,” he said sternly. “Or you’re going to get yourself more than kissed.”
“So?”
Mal tightened his grip, keeping her body from his as she pushed forward. Maeve’s brows pulled together.
“Is this how you really want it our first time? Is this how you think I want it? A distraction from your fear? So that you don’t have to think about if your father is even alive or if the fabric of our society has completely crumbled?”
Her vision went blurry.
And his grip loosened as she fell into his chest.
Tears fell silently down her cheeks, dripping into his shirt. Her pride swallowed the sobs in her throat, desperate for release.
Mal’s arms wrapped around her back, but Maeve shoved off him. She hastily turned her back on him. Wiping the wet from her face.
Mal crossed in front of her.
He tilted her chin up with his knuckle.
“Don’t you dare run from me,” he said quietly.
Cooly.
Like always.
Emotions in check.
Maeve’s were always the opposite.
He looked down at her, studying her, his lips pursed slightly.
“I am unaccustomed to feeling fear from you,” he whispered, his thumb traced over her bottom lip.
“I’m fine.”
His hand traveled to the back of her head. “Don’t lie to me.”
“Why? You always know anyway,” she said with a small cry.
“I don’t want you to lie to me,” he said, “only for me.”
Maeve laughed for the first time all day.
Mal offered her a small smile in return, one that didn’t meet his eyes. “It’s late,” he said. “You need sleep.”
Maeve didn’t argue. Mal pulled her close and laid them on his bed. They were a tangled mass of arms and legs. Mal’s hands traced up and down her back, making soothing circles at the base of her scalp. She tucked herself as close to him as possible, and let the cool magic radiating from him lull her to sleep.
Chapter 32
“You look terrib-“ started Abraxas. He winced, and his eyes went wide. “I mean you look like to slept terribly.”
Maeve sat across from him at one of the long dining tables the next morning.
“Yes,” drawled Maeve. “You second attempt was much better.”
