Page 41 of Forced Pregnant Bride

Fuck thinking.

I wasn’t myself, and it was starting to become a norm. Whenever Serena was around me, I would lose focus and be angry for the wrong reasons—at myself. When I stared into those depths of blue, I got lost, like a kid drowning in an ocean.

Looking at her now, she wore a similar expression. Afamiliarone that said what her mouth didn’t have to: She wanted me. Her warm gaze passed my inked fingers, the faint crinkles on my dress shirt, and the curve of my neck before settling on my lips.

But as quickly as the moment came, it was gone. Her smile melted off her face, and she fumbled with her fingers, dropping her head forward and allowing a handful of hair to shield her face away from mine.

The real Serena was back, the one without the sharp mouth, glaring eyes, or witty childish retorts. Before I got a chance to ask her what was wrong, she was quick and gracious enough to spare me the trouble.

“Says the husband who was irritated by his wife’s cooking.”

Ah,shit.

She was fucking pissed because of what happened in the morning. It didn’t matter that she hadn’t understood a word I’d said to Klavdia; she was smart enough to know I didn’t want to eat the meal she made.

Quietly, I cleared the distance between us, drew closer to her bedside, and slid my fingers over hers, still clutching her stomach. My swift move startled her, but I didn’t care.

“Serena, you have my promise now that I’ll never say no to your soufflé pancakes or weird-ass vegetable and cheese recipes.”

That broke a half-chuckle and half-smile out of her. Rolling her eyes, she swatted the back of my hand gently. “It’s not…weird-ass. It’s creative cooking.”

I nodded, a smile tugging at the corner of my mouth. “Corrected. I’ll never say no to your weird-ass creative cooking ever again.”

Now she was laughing, her head lolling backward to accommodate her loud, airy laughter. The sight made me smile in return.

She shook her head. “It’s still not valid.”

Her lambent beauty distracted me; I didn’t catch on to what she said. “What?”

“Your promise? I said it’s not valid. You didn’t call mePchelkato seal it. What does it even mean?”

I could tell she’d been dying to ask.

“Little bee.”

Laughing, she caressed my fingers with hers. “It’s cute. I didn’t think about that.” Her brows dipped, and she nibbled on her lower lip in thought. “But why?”

Her overloaded cuteness must have been a charm because I couldn’t resist planting a kiss at the side of her mouth. “You and your fucking striped yellow clothes. I don’t get why you have so many of them—but don’t tell me. I’m not getting into that women’s wardrobe shit with you. Not now.”

I got another laugh out of her and earned a genuine smile. “That makes sense.”

Sharing wasn’t my thing, but I recognized precious moments when I saw one—like now. Having her this close to me, being able to hold her without making her tremble with fear, made my heart pump faster.

I tightened my grip on her fingers and held her gaze with mine. “My father wasn’t crazy about children. I believe he probably wouldn’t have given a fuck if he had none. If he did, he might have….” I swallowed, clenching my jaw. “My brother and I would have had a better parent. But I’m not going to be like that. On my honor, I swear to protect you and our son till my last breath.”

“Timur….”

“Considering that I’m more of a villain than a superhero, it might not mean shit to you, but around here, we have a thing with upholding promises.”

Sighing, she sniffled. But I couldn’t be sure that these weren’t tears of sorrow.

I cupped her cheeks and tipped her chin with a finger.

“Are you happy,Pchelka?”

“I am, Timur.” She leaned forward, with that light in her eyes that managed to make me feel like I’d won a billion-dollar lottery, and kissed my cheeks. “I am happy.”

Chapter 17 – Serena

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