Forbiddenly Bound To You
Chapter 97: Taste it…

Chapter 97: Taste it...

Mira turned her gaze toward him, her emotions in turmoil. For so long, she had imagined how she’d react to Zamian’s return—maybe she’d act cold, indifferent, or even completely ignore him.

She’d played those scenes over and over in her head, thinking about how satisfying it would be to snub him after all this time. But now, standing in front of him, she couldn’t keep it together. Instead of the aloof detachment she had rehearsed, her heart betrayed her. She was breaking down, and it was heartbreaking to realize how much she had longed for him. After all these months, he was only just now returning.

"Don’t mind what I said..." she muttered, waving her hand dismissively, trying to suppress the flood of emotions that threatened to overwhelm her. She didn’t want him to see how fragile she felt. Not now.

"Mira, if—" Zamian began, stepping forward, his voice full of concern.

"I said, don’t mind my words!" she interrupted him, her voice sharper than intended. She didn’t mean to snap, but the turmoil inside her was bubbling over. The room fell silent as Zamian froze, startled by her sudden outburst.

For a moment, neither of them moved. Mira’s chest rose and fell with shallow breaths, her hands clenched by her sides. She hated how vulnerable she felt, how exposed her emotions were in front of him. But at the same time, a part of her was screaming to hold onto this moment, to not let him slip away again.

"Come closer," she said softly, though the authority in her voice was unmistakable. She gestured for him to bend down. Zamian hesitated, unsure of what she wanted. The last time she’d asked him to do this— few minutes ago, she’d pinched his cheeks hard. Still, he leaned in, uncertain but willing to indulge her.

Just as his face came close to hers, Mira acted. Her hands moved quickly to his neck, and before he could react, her tongue latched onto his skin. She sucked hard, her lips pressing against his neck, marking him with a hickey.

Zamian was caught completely off guard. His eyes widened, and he pulled back slightly, his hand instinctively going to his neck.

He looked at her in surprise, utterly bewildered by her boldness. His shy, demure wife had never acted like this before. Where had this come from?

"Ahem," he cleared his throat, trying to regain some composure, though his cheeks were flushed with both surprise and something else—excitement. He couldn’t help but smile, his gaze softening as he looked at her.

"I wonder who made my wife so bold," Zamian teased, his voice low and playful. It was a tone she hadn’t heard in a long time, and it made her heart skip a beat. Mira’s cheeks flushed pink at his words. She hadn’t expected this from herself either—this boldness, this daring act. It was as shocking to her as it was to him. She couldn’t understand why, but something inside her had shifted. Maybe it was the long months of waiting, the unresolved tension between them, or maybe it was the hormones from the pregnancy. Whatever it was, she felt different.

"Let’s go to our room," Zamian suggested gently, his voice full of understanding. He reached out for her, his touch soft, as if he were afraid she might pull away.

"No... what if I fall asleep?" she protested, shaking her head. She didn’t want to sleep, not now. After finally seeing him again, after all the time apart, she wanted to hold onto every second. She wanted to be selfish, even if just for a few hours. She wasn’t ready to let this moment slip away into the comfort of sleep.

Zamian chuckled softly. "Alright," he said, his smile widening. "This husband of yours is starving, you know." Though, in truth, he had gotten used to not having much of an appetite during the long weeks without her. Food had lost its flavor without Mira by his side. But today, for some reason, it felt like all those days of hunger had caught up with him at once. The sight of her, the warmth of her presence, had awakened something in him—a hunger he hadn’t realized was there.

"Okay, let’s go," Mira agreed, grabbing his hand and pulling him toward the dining area. Her grip was firm, her pace quick. Zamian didn’t resist, letting her guide him as he watched her closely, noticing the subtle changes in her mood. She was shifting between eagerness, nervousness, and something else he couldn’t quite place.

When they arrived, the dining table was already set. The food was laid out neatly at his usual spot, no doubt John had made sure everything was in place. Zamian sat down, feeling the weight of exhaustion settle over him as he looked at the spread before him.

As he reached for the utensils, Mira’s hand intercepted his. She smiled at him, taking the cutlery herself. "Let me," she said softly, her voice tender. Before he could object, she scooped up a spoonful of hot food, blew on it gently, and then offered it to him.

Zamian blinked, surprised by the gesture. Was she really about to feed him? His chest tightened at the thought. He hadn’t expected this—Mira doting on him like this, caring for him in such an intimate way. The eager, excited look in her eyes made it impossible for him to refuse. He opened his mouth, his cheeks flushing pink as he allowed her to feed him.

"If it’s too hot, tell me, okay?" she murmured, her tone full of concern.

Zamian nodded, chewing slowly as the warmth of the food spread through him. It wasn’t just the food that was comforting—it was the sight of Mira, the way she looked at him with such genuine care. It made his heart swell.he looked like a high school boy whose crush had just agreed to be his prom date.

She continued feeding him, choosing different dishes for him to try. Each bite was met with a soft smile from her, and though Zamian wasn’t particularly hungry, he couldn’t bring himself to stop her. He savored every moment, not wanting to break the spell she had cast over him.

Finally, after several spoonfuls, he leaned back slightly and smiled at her. "I’m satisfied," he said gently.

Mira nodded, her movements slow and careful as she passed him a napkin and then a glass of water. After dining, they both stood, leaving the dining area in comfortable silence. Their footsteps were soft against the floor as they walked toward their room, Mira’s hand still holding his.

Once inside, Zamian headed into the bathroom to freshen up.While Mira changed into a loose, baggy pair of pajamas, the soft fabric hugging her body. The bed was incredibly comfortable, and as soon as she laid down, she felt the pull of sleep tugging at her. But she resisted. She had promised herself she wouldn’t fall asleep. Not yet.

Her eyes grew heavy, and just as she was beginning to lose the battle, she heard the bathroom door open. Her eyes shot open, and she turned toward him, smiling as she patted the spot next to her on the bed.

For some reason, Zamian had been unusually obedient to her tonight. He climbed into bed beside her without a word, settling into the pillows. Mira adjusted herself to face him, her eyes softening as she looked at him.

"Now that you’re here, are you going to answer my questions?" she asked softly, her fingers tracing the fabric of his shirt.

"I’d love to answer your questions," he said with a gentle smile, "when I’m fully back."

Mira pouted, but deep down, she understood. He wasn’t entirely himself yet. He needed time to adjust after being away for so long.

"Okay," she whispered, raising her hand to pinch his cheeks playfully, a gesture that had always made him laugh. Her eyes darted to his neck, where the hickey she had left earlier was still visible. Her cheeks flushed pink, her heart racing at the sight. How had she become so bold?

Zamian’s hand slipped under her shirt, his fingers grazing her bare skin as he caressed her tummy. The sensation was soothing, and Mira gasped softly, her body reacting instinctively to his touch. She placed her hand over his, feeling the warmth of his palm through the fabric.

"You don’t have to be shy," Zamian murmured, his voice low. "We’ve done things much worse than...."

"Zamian!" Mira shot him a glare, but it was half-hearted. She was too flustered to be truly angry.

He laughed, the sound deep and rich, filling the room. Butterflies erupted in her stomach at the sound of it. His laughter was genuine, and it made her feel lighter, as if the weight of the world had momentarily lifted. She wished she could listen to it over and over again.

Her thoughts were interrupted as Zamian’s hand moved upward, slowly, almost teasingly, until it landed on her breast. Mira’s eyes widened in shock, her heart pounding so loudly she was afraid he could hear it.

"Z... Zamian..." she stammered, unsure of what to say.

"Shh..." he whispered, his voice full of longing. "I’ve missed this body of yours, you know. I’ve really imagined doing wild things with you." His tone was deep, filled with a passion he hadn’t realized he had until he met her. His eyes roamed over her, and she could see the heat in them, the desire he was holding back.

Your breasts are larger than before... I don’t mind that," his husky voice growing even huskier with each word. Mira’s cheeks flushed a deep crimson.

"You’re so shameless."

"Yes, I am," he replied with a smirk. Gently, he squeezed her breast, only to feel a warm liquid on his hand. Of course—she was seven months pregnant, and her breast milk had already begun to develop.

"I want to taste it," he whispered, his tone low and filled with desire.