Page 35 of Brutal Alpha's Forced Mate

With a resigned sigh, I kick off my boots and settle onto the bed beside her, careful to keep a respectable distance. Butshe’s not having it. She shifts closer, curling her body into mine, and I swear I forget how to breathe.

“Thank you,” she tells me as she rests her head against my shoulder. “For everything.”

“You don’t have to thank me,” I say. “I owe you.”

She doesn’t respond, and her breathing evens out like she’s already drifting off. But then she shifts again, and her hand brushes against my chest, and I’m suddenly hyper-aware of every point of contact between us.

“Jaslyn…”

She looks up at me with her eyes half-lidded and impossibly green. “Gray.”

Before I can think better of it, I lean down, and her lips meet mine. The kiss is tentative at first, soft and searching, but it deepens in the blink of an eye. The heat sparks between us, raging through me like wildfire, and her fingers tangle in my hair, pulling me closer.

Her heartbeat pounds against my chest, and my body responds instinctively. I pull her closer, running my hands over her curves, tracing every line and contour. She tastes like whiskey, and her scent fills my senses until all I can think about is her, only her.

Her hips roll against mine, and a groan rumbles in my chest. My control slips, and I grab her, pushing her onto her back. She looks up at me with her pupils blown wide and her cheeks cherry-pink, and the sight is nearly enough to break me.

I want her. I need her. And dammit, she wants this, too.

But if I’m going to have Jaslyn, I’m going to do it right.

It takes everything in me to pull back, to put space between us before this goes too far. “Jaslyn,” I breathe, my voice ragged. “We can’t.”

Her brows knit together, confusion flickering across her face. “Why not?”

“You’re…” I trail off, searching for the right words. “You’ve had a lot to drink. I don’t want you to wake up tomorrow and regret this.”

“I wouldn’t,” she insists, and her voice is firm despite the haze in her eyes.

“You don’t know that.” I cup her cheek and brush my thumb over her bottom lip. “You deserve better than this. Better than me.”

“You’re wrong,” she whispers. Her lips part to continue, but I shake my head.

“Go to sleep, Jaslyn.”

She hesitates, and for a second, I think she might press the issue. But then she sinks back against the pillows, and her eyes close. A few minutes later, her breathing deepens, and her body relaxes as sleep takes her.

I stay there, watching her, listening to the gentle rhythm of her heartbeat. I tell myself this was the right decision, that she would have hated herself—and me—in the morning. But as I lay beside her, with her scent all around me, I know it’s a lie.

The truth is, I’m afraid.

Afraid that if we take this step, I’ll never want to let her go. And when the time comes and she realizes her mistake, the pain will be too much for either of us to bear.

I’ve never been good at letting go. And Jaslyn Kismet will ruin me if I’m not careful.

Chapter 12 - Jaslyn

Waking up in Gray’s bed is disorienting enough. Waking up wrapped around Gray like some kind of human octopus takes it to a whole new level of mortifying. His arm is slung over my waist, his chest is pressed to my back, and his breath skims the curve of my neck.

My heart’s racing, and I can’t seem to stop hyper-focusing on how solid he feels against me. On the way, his hand rests on my hip, just heavy enough to remind me of the sheer size of him.

What the hell happened last night?

I shift in the bed, trying to untangle myself without waking him, but the movement only brings me closer to him. His arm tightens instinctively, and he mumbles something unintelligible into my hair. My breath hitches, and I freeze, willing my brain to focus on anything but the fact that Gray is basically cuddling me.

The details of the night before are hazy, but flashes of memory start to surface—the bar, the whiskey, Gray carrying me upstairs. And then… the kiss.

My face flames at the thought of it, of how intense it was, how desperate. But he stopped, didn’t he? He pulled away, told me it wasn’t the right time. And now, he’s snoring softly into my hair like nothing’s changed. Typical.

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