My Vampire Beloved Husband
Chapter 120: I Might…Hurt You

Chapter 120: I Might...Hurt You

Zylan’s lips curled up into a smile, a dark glint in his eyes as he gazed at Naomi, his gaze focused intently on her face. There was a quiet intensity in the air, something raw and undeniable.

"While you do it, keep your eyes on me," he murmured, his voice deep, almost a command.

Naomi’s heart raced, her breath caught in her throat. Was this man seriously telling her to do this? The thought barely had time to register before she felt both of his hands on her, cupping her gently but firmly. His fingers squeezed, testing the softness of her skin.

"So soft," he whispered with admiration, his gaze never wavering from hers.

Naomi froze, unsure of how to respond. His words, his touch, were making her feel like she was losing herself. Her body didn’t quite feel like her own anymore. Still, his eyes held hers, urging her to comply. Slowly, she began to move, her waist swaying under his watchful gaze.

"Good girl. Now, faster," he encouraged, his tone soft but edged with something more—something darker.

She obeyed, her body moving against his in a rhythm that felt foreign, yet almost natural. The strange sensation of his hardness brushing against her sent a shockwave through her body, making her hesitate for a split second. Zylan seemed to sense the moment of hesitation, but it was fleeting. His lips parted in a smile that was both tender and dangerous.

Naomi could barely process what was happening. Zylan, the man who had been nothing more than a stranger to her months ago, was pulling emotions from her she didn’t even know existed. He made her feel things she hadn’t known were possible, feelings that threatened to consume her completely.

"Good girl," Zylan whispered again, his voice now thick with desire. "Eyes on me."

Naomi’s gaze snapped back to his, the weight of his command hanging heavily between them. She could feel the tension in the air, a taut line between them that seemed to draw her closer, despite the chaos swirling inside her. His hands moved lower, and her breath caught in her chest. She could feel his touch everywhere, on her skin, in her mind, pulling at something deep within her.

Her body was already responding to him, betraying her mind as she tried to make sense of it all. She felt herself growing warmer, her thoughts hazy. It didn’t make sense. None of it did. But she couldn’t stop herself. Notnow.

Zylan smirked, his dark eyes scanning her face with amusement. "You’re already wet, and I haven’t even touched you yet," he said softly, almost to himself.

Naomi’s cheeks burned at the insinuation, but his words stirred something inside her. Was it embarrassment? Curiosity? It was impossible to tell, and the line between them blurred even further as he spoke again.

"Good girl," he said, a satisfied smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "Remove the gown."

His voice was low, but there was something softer beneath it—an almost comforting certainty that she would obey. And Naomi, for reasons she couldn’t understand, found herself doing just that. Slowly, carefully, she began to slide the fabric off her body, the gown pooling at her feet. She hesitated for only a moment, her blush deepening, before standing bare in front of him.

The silence between them was charged, thick with anticipation. Naomi could feel Zylan’s gaze sweeping over her, as though he were trying to memorize every inch of her. There was no judgment in his eyes—only hunger. Desire. And something else, something far more dangerous.

He gestured for her to lie on the bed. Naomi, surprisingly without hesitation, followed his command, her cheeks flushed with a soft pink hue.

"Open your legs for me," he said, his voice low, soft.

Naomi’s heart pounded as she complied, her body moving almost instinctively. She felt exposed, vulnerable in a way she’d never known before. But she didn’t feel afraid. No, she felt... seen. In a way that made her pulse race.

Zylan leaned closer, his breath warm against her skin as he lowered his head. His lips brushed against her core, the softest of kisses, before his tongue flicked out to taste her. Naomi gasped, her entire body trembling at the sensation.

"Ahhh... Z... Zylan," she moaned, her voice barely a whisper, but it was enough. The sound of her pleasure seemed to drive him further, his hands gripping her hips as he continued.

For a moment, Naomi felt disoriented, the pleasure overwhelming her as it coursed through her body. She hadn’t expected this. Hadn’t expected to feel so much so soon.

"Time for you to familiarize yourself with him," Zylan said, his voice thick with need.

Naomi’s eyes followed his hand as it moved toward his pajama pants, his growing hardness barely concealed by the thin fabric. Her mind was still struggling to catch up with what was happening, but something inside her—something deep, primal—urged her forward. Her gaze moved lower, locking on the evidence of his desire, and a wave of curiosity washed over her.

He laid back as she sat up to follow through. For some reason, the urge overwhelmed her as she met his gaze, his eyes already locked on hers. Both of his hands rested behind his head, his posture relaxed yet full of unspoken tension.

"Touch it, baby. Do whatever you want with it," Zylan murmured, his voice low, almost lazy.

His eyes never left hers, watching her every move. Naomi, uncertain but curious, slowly extended her hand toward him. As her fingers brushed against him, Zylan groaned softly, his breath hitching. He watched her, the intensity of his gaze making her feel as though she were the center of his world.

"Touch it go on," he repeated, his voice thick with pleasure. His hands reached out, grabbing her wrist gently, guiding her to continue.

Naomi hesitated for a moment, unsure of herself. But then, as if something within her clicked into place, she took a deep breath and touched him again. This time, her fingers curled around him, the sensation so different from anything she’d ever felt before. It was hard, warm, and powerful beneath her touch. She gasped at the feeling, the heat rushing to her face.

"S-so big," she whispered, her voice soft and breathless.

Zylan’s eyes darkened at her words, and he let out a low groan. The way she touched him, the way her body responded to him, made him lose a little more control. But he wasn’t ready for her to stop yet.

Slowly, Naomi began to move her hand over him, each stroke hesitant at first, but growing more confident as she continued. Zylan’s breath quickened, his body shuddering beneath her touch. He groaned, his voice thick with pleasure.

"Mm, huaah," he groaned, unable to hold back. It felt so good, even though she wasn’t doing it quite right. But that didn’t matter. His hands moved to hers, guiding her, showing her how to move.

Naomi watched him closely, noting the way his lips parted with each moan, the way his chest heaved with each breath. She felt a strange sense of pride, as though she were the one responsible for bringing him to this point.

Before she knew it, he pulled her on top of him, his lips crashing against hers. The kiss was intense, overwhelming, and Naomi felt herself surrendering to it. Her slender arms slipped under his shirt, exploring the hard muscles of his chest, tracing the lines of his body as she lost herself in the moment.

"Ahh..." she moaned, her voice muffled by his kiss. Her body moved against his, feeling the hard press of him beneath her, but it was almost too much. Her pulse raced, her breath coming in shallow gasps as she tried to keep up with the whirlwind of sensations crashing over her.

Zylan stilled, his lips pulling away from hers as his body tensed. He groaned, a low sound that sent a thrill through Naomi. She looked at him, her golden eyes meeting his dark gaze. There was something in his expression, something wild and untamed.

He pulled her closer, his hands gripping her more urgently as he kissed her again, his lips trailing down to her neck. Naomi’s breath hitched, her body shuddering with each kiss, each touch. But there was something else now—something darker, more desperate.

Zylan’s eyes flashed red, and Naomi froze, her own eyes widening in shock. His gaze locked onto hers, and for the first time, she saw the struggle within him. The battle between desire and something far more dangerous.

"I can’t... control myself... please," Zylan begged, his voice thick with restraint. He pulled away from her, his hands gripping his hair in frustration as he fell back onto the bed.

Naomi’s heart raced as she watched him, her worry mounting.

And before she knew it, in a swift motion, he was on the floor of her room, far too close to the window. The way he gripped his hair made it clear that the pain of his grip was nothing compared to the anguish he felt inside.

Zylan’s eyes were shut tight, his face twisted in pain. Naomi’s heart ached for him. She stood, her legs trembling as she moved toward him, but he raised a hand, signaling for her to stop.

"Don’t... I’m dangerous," he rasped, his voice tight with suppressed emotion. It was clear he was fighting something, something dark that was threatening to overwhelm him.

Naomi’s steps faltered for a moment, but she didn’t stop. She couldn’t. She walked toward him, slowly, cautiously.

"It’s fine, hubby. I’m here. Your wife is here," she said softly, her voice steady despite the fear bubbling in her chest.

Zylan’s head rose slowly, his eyes opening just enough to reveal the blood-red irises that glowed in the dim light. He looked at her, and there was a raw, painful desperation in his gaze.

"I might... hurt you," he whispered, his voice strained, as though even saying the words caused him physical pain.

Naomi moved closer, her heart aching for him, but her resolve remained firm. She cupped his face gently, her thumb brushing over his cheek.

"Then go ahead. As long as I know you’re okay, hurting me is nothing, Love," she said, her voice soft but unwavering.