Page 57 of Forced Pregnant Bride

“Fine, that was insensitive. I take it back. You get concerned about lots of things sometimes. What I meant was, do you want to tell me what happened, or is it perhaps something I shouldn’t know?”

“Are you indirectly asking to know what happened?”

“If I ask directly, will I get an answer?”

“So many questions.”

She folded her arms, and I flexed my jaw before resigning to the power of what tried to look like an intimidating stare from her.

“Training session with the men.”

“Training session with the men,” she repeated, disbelief clearly laced in her voice. “And they managed to get a…. What was used? A knife in you?”

I couldn’t help it; the smile I’d been suppressing from the moment I saw her in front of me rose to the surface. “Notthey.He. But the details aren’t important. I’m fine now, thanks to you. Although, you deserve some blame. You’re the reason I managed to get hit in the first place.”

Her jaw dropped. She looked gobsmacked and gorgeous. “What—me? How was that even possible when I was right here?”

I laughed. Unlike the fleeting moment we had in the kitchen, now I really saw her, and she was way more fucking beautiful than…ever.Her bump had protruded more over the past months; she’d let her hair grow out, dangling above the curve of her hip, and her cheeks were much fuller.

She looked like sunshine.

“You’re fucking beautiful,Pchelka.”

Stunned, she opened her mouth to say something. Then, she closed it again. Her cheeks turned a fiery shade of red, her giddiness reduced to a shyness I recognized all too well.

Leaning closer, I tucked loose strands of her hair behind her ear, allowing my finger to gently brush her cheek. As always, she smelled like vanilla and a hint of citrus.

“You’re trying to change the topic.”

I tipped her chin up. “You’d rather I talk about getting stabbed in the fucking arm than show you how much I want to fuck you right now?”

“I…um…” she stuttered.

I loved seeing her all flustered like this, watching her melt in a puddle, a simple but significant reaction to my touch. I loved it when she called my name. I loved the tiny sighs she made when I kissed her.

The blood in my body heated up, dangerously traveling south at the mere thought of tasting her lips. Dipping my head, I claimed her lips with mine, kissing her sweetly yet possessively.

She cupped my face, moved her lips against mine, and pulled back with closed eyes, breathing softly against my lips. “Timur….”

It was crazy how I’d transitioned from a whirlwind of emotions—anger, pain, irritation—only to have them simmer at the sight of her.

“I know where this is going, but it would interest you to know that I have your meal cooking on that stove.”

I grinned, pressing a sharp kiss to her lips again. “Then it means I have to make you come quickly.”

“Timur—”

“No time to waste time, Serena, mother of Timur the Second. Get on top of me.”

Her eyes shined with mirth. “You can’t just name our son Timur the Second. And what if we have a—”

“What I have is an injured arm, woman. The least you can do is fuck me to recovery. So, hurry up, there’s not a fucking minute to lose.”

Laughing, she swatted my arm but crossed her legs over mine. “I can’t believe you have a funny bone.”

Narrowing my eyes at her, I slipped my uninjured hand under her dress and headed straight for her panties. Which were already fucking soaked, and I hadn’t even touched her.

“I don’t,Pchelka.”Shifting her panties, I encircled her swollen nub with a finger, feeling a familiar rush of excitement swell between my legs. “Fucking you is serious business.”

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