All Chapters of FORBIDDEN: HIS PLUS SIZE OBSESSION : Chapter 1041 - Chapter 1050

The words hit Lena like a slap. She felt the sting of it, but she refused to let it show. She kept her face still, her expression unreadable.“He will come back to me, and we will have beautiful children. Of course young men like him go to older women to get some experience so they can treat their real women better.” Valeria’s smile widened. “He’s going to marry me. That’s the reality.”Before Lena could reply, Valeria pressed her palm over her boobs.“Look here.”Lena rolled her eyes again, this time with exaggerated slowness.“What are you showing me your boobs for?”Valeria blinked.“You don’t even know his birthday or his last name. Do you? Because if you did, you would recognize it as the tattoo on my chest."Lena’s face hardened at the bitter truth.“I got them tattooed on my chest,” Valeria continued, a triumphant smirk spreading across her face. “His birthday. The day we met. His full name.”Lena stared at the tattoos. Her throat tightened, but she forced herself to breathe,

Valeria's tears continued to fall. Her shoulders shook with silent sobs, her hands pressed against her face as if she could physically hold back the flood of humiliation and heartbreak. She looked at Tarzan as though waiting for him to take back his words. But he didn't. Instead, he focused his attention completely to Lena. Meanwhile, Lena felt her heart twisting at the sight of Valeria's tears. Despite everything Valeria had said, despite the way she had tried to undermine their relationship and insulted her body, Lena couldn't bring herself to watch another woman fall apart without feeling something. She slowly loosened her fingers from Tarzan's and took a step toward Valeria. "I think I should—" Tarzan's hand tightened around hers before she could take another step. "No, you don't have to," he replied softly, interrupting her. Lena looked up at him. "But... she... she's crying." Tarzan's grip on her hand tightened, gentle but firm. He pulled her back softly. "I

When the meal finally ended and people began to rise, Lena stood and stretched quietly. She was about to follow Christy and her sisters when a hand caught her elbow.She turned.Mitch.His grip wasn't harsh, but it was strong enough to make her pause."Can we talk?" he asked, his voice low.Lena glanced over her shoulder. Don Alejandro and Valeria were deep in discussion, but Valeria kept glancing at Tarzan, who stood across the room speaking with Ricardo.Suddenly, his eyes found hers—almost instantly, as if he'd felt her looking.Lena turned back to Mitch."Now isn't a good time," she said evenly."It never is," Mitch replied. "That's the problem."Lena pulled her arm free, gently but firmly. "If you have something to say, say it here. Otherwise, it can wait."Mitch studied her for a long moment."Fine," he said at last. "Then I'll say it here."He stepped closer, lowering his voice."I'm sorry, Lena."Lena blinked. Whatever she had expected, it wasn't that."For what?" she asked."

Tarzan stared at her.For a long moment, he said nothing. His jaw tightened, then loosened, as if he was chewing on words he wasn't sure he should speak.Her getting a tattoo of him wasn't the problem but the trigger, she definitely felt the need to get it because of Valeria's tattoos. Then, finally, he stepped closer. "Lena.." He called softly. Lena swallowed and turned to face him. Her hands were trembling slightly, so she clasped them together in front of her, hoping he wouldn't notice. “I know what you are thinking but I promise you I don’t want to be like Valeria,” she whispered. “I don’t even want to compete with her. I know you loved me, not her. I also know I shouldn’t have let it get into my head, but when she showed me those tattoos, I just… got triggered.” Tarzan's expression softened."I know that's what happened. You really don’t have to prove that you love me more than another woman. You don’t have to mark my name on your skin to convince me that I’m yours.”

They barely made it through the door before Tarzan's mouth found hers again in a hungry, demanding way, as if he'd been starving for the taste of her. He walked her backward until the edge of the bed hit the backs of her knees. She stumbled, but he caught her easily, lowering her gently onto the sheets, his body covering hers. His shirt was still on and was her dress. That felt like a problem, a hindrance to the promised land. Impatiently , Lena tugged at the hem of his shirt while Tarzan helped her pull it over his head. The sight of him—those broad shoulders, the rise and fall of his chest, the way his muscles tensed under her gaze made her mouth go dry and heat pool low in her belly with an aching need settling between her thighs. "You're staring," he murmured, a smirk playing at the corner of his lips. “You're worth staring at," Lena said, her voice husky as she ran her hand down the ridges of his abs, lower, until her fingers disappeared into his underwear and wrapped ar