The Heir's Secret Bride

Maeve thought, Kiss him? Here?

She was utterly shocked, with her cheeks and palms flushed. Herglistening eyes avoided meeting Byron's gaze.

She

he said,

"No-

However, Byron did not give her a chance to finish talking. He raised her chin and pressed his lips against her soft red lips without hesitation

Macve's heart raced. Her lower lip that he was kissing seemed to have an electric current running through it, spreading throughout her entire body. It was exceptionally tingling and numb. From the comer of her eye, she saw the maid pass by the living room door. Her heart was in her throat.

Fortunately, the maid did not come in.

Maeve heaved a sigh of relief and suddenly felt a pain on her lips.

Byron

was dissatisfied with her absent-mindedness, so he bit her as a form of punishment. Then, knowing when to stop before things got worse, he let her go.

"It hurts" Maeve said, staring at him with tearful eyes and covering her mouth with her hand. "I didn't even agree to it." You said nothing, so I'd have to take it myself," Byron said meaningfully. "You expect me to reason with you, huh?" "People who don't reason are hooligans," Maeve said angrily. "I wanted to lose to Gilbert just now, but you messed it up and even asked me for a reward. With that said, , she

ran

in a huff and went to the bathroom to wash her face lest Gilbert notice which would make her even more embarrassed. anything unusual but of the living room

Unfortunately, she made a mistake in judgment.

The maid who had passed by earlier immediately told Gilbert about the two of them kissing in the living room.

Gilbert was in a good mood, so much so that he even had an extra serving of food for dinner.

His body was not as strong as before. Not long after dinner, he went upstairs to rest.

Maeve followed Beron to the second floor and came to his room.

-

She did not bring a change of clothes when she came, so she had no choice but to make do with Byron's clothes for now. She would then hand the clothes she changed out of to the maid to wash and dry, intending to wear them when she left tomorrow.

Although it was not the first time she wore Byron's clothes, wearing them while sober felt completely different from when she was drunk.

Maeve dawdled in the bathroom for a long while before mustering the courage to go out

On the big black bed in the room, Byron sat there reading a book. The warm orange glow of the wall lamp illumina, the top of his head. His face was like a painting, gentle and distant.

Recalling Gilbert's words, Maeve suppressed the chaotic thoughts in her mind and quickly went over to lift the blanket on the bed before lying on the other side.

Byron gave her an indifferent glance and asked, "Have you put on your pants?"

Maeve curled up under the blanket and said grumpily, "What do you take me for? Of course, I have. I'm not drunk this

time.

ume.

Byron turned a page and said indifferently. "Is that so? Who knows."

Maeve poked her head out of the blanket and glared at him. "You don't know? Didn't you smell it when you kissed me not long ago?"

"I'm not sure. Shall I try it again?"

The word "try" seemed to carry a suggestive and flirtatious connotation.

He spoke in that teasing tone again, making Maeve's ears flush. She glared at him with anger she wasn't fully aware of.

"Mr. Mcdaniel, you are not going to sleep on the sofa, huh?"

Byron closed the book, rested his elbows on his knees, and turned his head to look at her. "Why should I sleep on the sofa! This seems to be my bed"

"We're about to get a divorce. It's not appropriate for us to share a bed, right?" Maeve told him what he had said in the

bathroom.

As soon as Byron heard her mention divorce, his jaw itched slightly.

He lightly ran his tongue over his teeth. "Maeve, aren't you tired of saying things that you don't mean all the time?" Maeve was stunned for a moment. Before she registered his words, the light above her head went out, plunging the surroundings into darkness. Right after that, a body filled with a masculine aura pressed down from above, enveloping her completely. Maeve's heart skipped a bear. She pushed him away, but he grabbed her wrists and pinned them above her head.

She squirmed uncomfortably. "Mr. Mcdaniel, what are you trying to do?"

Byron lowered his gaze and looked at Maeve in the dim light, as if through a thin veil. Her flushed face seemed even more captivating than usual.

He thought, 'She's wearing my shirt, lying on my bed, and the scent of my usual shampoo is in her hair. It's as if she has been marked with my personal brand.

This realization caused the subtle glint of passion in Byron's eyes to become intense. He tightened his grip on her wrists slightly and leaned in close to the tip of her nose.

Maeve's

heart suddenly raced. Her toes involuntarily pressed against the bedsheet, quickly causing it to wrinkle.

As their breaths alternated, Byron asked in a serious voice by her ear, "I'll give you another chance. Do you really want a

divorce?

divorce?

Maeve bit her lip. She suddenly could not bring herself to say the words "I do".

Without waiting for her to sort out her conflicted feelings, he kissed her passionately, domineeringly and gently.

He chuckled and said, "My Maeve is so good at chess. Who did you learn it from?"

Maeve thought, My Maeve...

The deep bass of his words-echoed in her ears, and her mind inantly went blank.

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Her

1.77%

roline body curled up like a cooked shrimp, and layers of blush appeared on her flawless skin, making her look like a

"When I was young... s-someone taught me..." Maeve was so shy that her voice was trembling. Even her resolve to get a divorce began to waver.

Her rationality told her that she should push him away. She knew what would happen if this continued.

However, those words that combined playful teasing with a sense of loving indulgence made her feel like a fish stranded on the shore, willing to stay on the beach to savor the fleeting wariti. "Play a game of chess with me next time, okay?" Byron's voice was deep and hoarse, exuding an indescribable bewitching power.

The warmth in in the room was sufficient, but it paled in comparison to the heated sensation from his kiss that almost melted Maeve entirely.

Her mind was in a mess. Her hands, initially pushing him away, ended up gripping him tightly. The corners of her eyes were flushed. mm," she replied vaguely. In fact, she had long been unable to make out what he was saying.

"Mm....

Mm She could only feel the increasing pressure of his slow, deliberate movements, each one heavier than the last, making her feel as if something was stuck in her throat and she wanted to release it. However, she could not find a way to o do so.

She twisted her slender legs uncomfortably and frowned impatiently, not understanding what was wrong with her. She then opened her misty eyes and looked at the man in front of her, almost begging for mercy. "M-Mr. Mcdaniel..." Byron's blue eyes were dim. He lowered his head and nuzzled against the tip of her nose. "What did you call me?" He did not say it explicitly, but Maeve suddenly understood what he meant.

She tightened her grip with her pale fingers on his shoulders and endured her shame as she said, "B-Byron."

Satisfaction flashed across Byron's eyes. "Good girl."

Maeve's eyelashes fluttered, and she instantly experienced a profound emotional impact.

Byron looked at her blushing face and closed eyes. His heart skipped a beat. He pecked her rosy and slightly swollen lips. "Ding ding ding..

The sudden ringtone from the phone on the table broke the increasingly passionate atmosphere in the room.

Byron frowned in annoyance. After rejecting the call, the phone rang again persistently, so he decided to swipe to answer.

"What's the matter?" he said.

Karen's sobbing voice came through. "Byron, what should I do?" she said. "My dad accidentally fell and fainted earlier. He has been sent to the operating theater. I'm alone, and I'm so scared."