Page 103 of Forced plus-size Bride of the Bratva
She doesn’t hesitate. Her body molds into mine like we’ve done this a thousand times. Like we belong this way.
“Thank you, Adrian,” she murmurs, her voice heavy with sleep.
“I’ll do it a million times again,” I promise. I kiss her forehead, her cheek, the corner of her mouth. “I swear it.”
She doesn’t reply—not with words, anyway. Just a sigh as she pulls me closer, tighter, until sleep takes her under.
And I stay awake a little longer, holding the only thing in this world I’ll never let go.
I don’t even realize when sleep takes me. One second, I’m holding her—wrapped around her like a shield—and the next, everything goes quiet.
No nightmares.
No old ghosts clawing at my chest.
Just…silence. And warmth.
For the first time in years, I sleep. Deep. Undisturbed. Peaceful.
***
When I wake up, I feel her before I see her. Her fingers brush lightly over my jaw, the edge of my beard. She’s close, watching me with this strange, soft look on her face. Her eyes are tired but clear. Her body is still pressed into mine, tucked under my arm like she never left.
“You were sleeping so peacefully,” she whispers, almost like she doesn’t want to wake me. “I didn’t want to move.”
I blink a few times, trying to shake the heaviness from my limbs. “How long have you been watching me?”
She shrugs, smiling faintly. “A while. You looked…calm. I didn’t know you could look like that.”
I turn toward her, tightening my arm around her waist. “I didn’t know I could either.”
She furrows her brows a little, like she doesn’t quite understand.
I swallow hard. The words are uncomfortable in my throat—raw, real—but I don’t hold them back. Not with her. “I haven’t had a calm, dreamless sleep in years. Maybe not since I was a kid.”
Her expression shifts. Softens.
I tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. “But last night…you were holding on to me. Like you needed me. Like I wasn’t a monster. And I slept like a man who wasn’t haunted.”
She exhales slowly, and I feel her chest rise against mine. “So, it was me?”
I nod. “It’s you. It’s always been you.” My voice drops as I press my forehead against hers. “You quiet the chaos in my head. You make everything else stop.”
She’s silent for a long moment, and then she whispers, “I don’t think you’re a monster.”
I let out a breath. Her saying that—it’s everything. It’s too much. It’s not enough.
“I’m not asking you to forgive everything,” I murmur. “But I want you to know…you’re the only thing in my life that feels right. That’s ever felt right.”
Her hand finds mine under the sheets, her fingers lacing through mine slowly, deliberately. “Then don’t let go,” she says.
“Never,” I promise.
She stretches like a cat, nuzzling into my chest, then suddenly grins.
“I’m hungry,” she says, and before I can respond, she’s tossing the blanket aside and bounding out of bed like she hasn’t just been through hell.
I blink. “Jennie—”
