My Vampire Beloved Husband
Chapter 148: For Them

Chapter 148: For Them

A soft smile played on Zylan’s lips as he murmured, "We’re getting there, my wife. Relax and enjoy the ministration."

His deep chuckle sent warmth pooling in her core.

Then, his lips found her skin again.

He trailed soft, lingering kisses over her stomach, moving lower, his touch both gentle and deliberate. Naomi shuddered beneath him, her body reacting to every slow movement, every whisper of warmth his mouth left behind.

When he reached her navel, his warm breath fanned over her skin, and anticipation coiled tightly in her stomach.

And then, instead of tearing away her panties as she had expected, he kissed her over them.

A whimper escaped her lips.

Zylan’s body tensed slightly, his own restraint evident as he felt her tremble beneath him.

Spreading her legs further, he pressed another kiss right at her center—slow, tantalizing, possessively.

Then, finally, he hooked his fingers around the waistband of her panties.

Naomi’s breath hitched as he began to slide them down. Her body ached, her hips instinctively lifting, desperate for more.

Why was he suddenly slow? She had expected him to tear off her panties like usual, so why was he unusually slow now?

He was teasing her.

But at this point, she didn’t want teasing.

She wanted him. All of him.

To her surprise, Zylan slowly parted her legs, his intense gaze locking onto hers.

He bent lower, his warm breath teasing her sensitive skin. Then, with deliberate slowness, his tongue flicked over her, sending a sharp jolt of pleasure through her body.

Naomi trembled, a soft moan slipping past her lips. Her eyes widened in shock, her breath hitching as she stared at him—utterly undone by the sensation.

And then, before she could fully process what was happening, his tongue darted out again—this time sliding into her heat.

"Ahhhm... ahhk~ Z... Zylan."

A strangled cry escaped her as he began to move, thrusting his tongue in and out, each stroke sending her further into a haze of pleasure.

Her hips lifted instinctively, desperate for more, chasing the sensation he was pulling from her body.

"Zylan!" she gasped, her voice breaking as waves of heat crashed over her.

Zylan groaned at the sound of his name on her lips, his own body tightening with fire as he continued his relentless worship of her. Every flick, every stroke, sent her spiraling higher.

Naomi’s entire body shuddered, her eyes fluttering as pleasure overtook her.

Then, Zylan lifted his head slightly, his lips glistening, his smoldering gaze never leaving hers.

"Eyes on me, my beautiful eaglet," he murmured, his voice thick with desire.

Something about the way he said beautiful—the deep, possessive rasp in his tone—sent a fresh wave of shivers racing through her.

She obeyed, staring into his hungry gaze, dark with intent.

And then, he continued.

Naomi gasped, her body arching as he drove her higher, higher—until she was floating, burning, lost in a pleasure so intense, it felt like she was touching the stars.

Before she could even think straight, she felt two of his fingers slip into her core, pushing in with steady, deep strokes.

Her hips moved instinctively, meeting his touch, desperate for more.

At the same time, his mouth continued its wicked ministrations, his tongue working in sync with his fingers, driving her closer and closer to the edge.

"M-More... ahhk."

A sharp cry tore from Naomi’s lips as pleasure consumed her. She reached out blindly, one hand gripping the sheets, while the other buried itself in his hair, pressing him even closer.

Her fingers curled at the top of his head, holding him there, wordlessly pleading for him to continue, to take her even higher.

She felt like she had reached the very edge of heaven, teetering on the brink of something earth-shattering—

And then, just as she was about to fall apart, he stopped.

Naomi’s eyes widened.

Did he just stop?

Before she could even open her mouth to protest, he moved closer, gripping his thick length in his hand.

Her breath hitched, her lips parting as anticipation coiled deep inside her.

And then, without warning, his lips crashed against hers.

She gasped into his mouth, tasting herself on his tongue. The realization sent a wave of heat coursing through her, making her body burn even hotter. It was intoxicating—overwhelming in a way she had never felt before.

Zylan held himself in his hand, spreading her legs wider. Naomi shivered as he began teasing her with the tip, running it slowly along her slick heat.

Her body trembled, moans slipping between their kisses as he continued his agonizing torment.

Then he pulled away slightly, intertwining their fingers.

"Look at me," he murmured.

Naomi obeyed, locking eyes with him.

For the first time since they started, she noticed something flicker in his gaze—hesitation.

For a brief moment, fear flashed in her eyes too.

"I’m supposed to mark you," he admitted, his voice low, "but I can’t. Not yet. I have my reasons."

Naomi nodded. She understood.

Vampires were meant to mark their partners during intimacy—it was a sacred ritual, an unbreakable bond. But after what had happened last time, she knew why he hesitated. He didn’t want to take any risks.

Naomi didn’t know why he hesitated, but she trusted he had a tangible reason.

His gaze softened. "Eyes on me," he whispered.

She obeyed, her gaze locking with his dark ones.

And then, with slow, deliberate movement, he began to push inside her.

A sharp, fiery cry tore from Naomi’s lips as pain tangled with the overwhelming pleasure. Her fingers clenched the sheets, her body trembling beneath the intensity. Tears welled in her eyes, slipping down her flushed cheeks.

Zylan’s grip on her tightened, his voice a raw whisper against her skin.

"Promise me you’ll stay with me forever."

Naomi’s heart clenched at the desperate plea in his tone. It wasn’t just a request—it was a need, a longing that seeped into her soul, making her chest ache.

She shook her head fiercely, her answer breathless but certain. "I promise."

For a moment, everything stilled. Then, something in his expression shifted. Darkened. His gaze burned with an emotion she couldn’t name, something deeper than passion—something almost feral.

And in one swift motion, he buried himself fully inside her.

Naomi screamed.

"Ahhk~ ahhh!"

Her back arched off the bed, a sharp gasp catching in her throat as her fingers dug into his arms. The pain was fleeting, swallowed by the pleasure consuming her.

"I love you," he whispered.

The words barely registered before a sudden, chilling change overtook him. His body tensed, and his breath hitched.

His eyes—once a deep, stormy blue—shifted. Half black. Half red.

His fangs extended, glistening in the dim light. A dangerous hunger radiated from him, primal and all-consuming. His hands fisted the sheets, claws tearing through the fabric with a sharp rip. His entire body trembled, fighting against the beast clawing to take control.

Naomi saw it—the war raging inside him. The fear. The restraint.

But instead of pulling away, she reached for him.

Her arms wrapped around his rigid frame, her touch gentle, soothing. She pressed her body against his, feeling the frantic beat of his heart against her own. Her voice was soft, steady.

"It’s okay."

She tilted her head, baring the delicate curve of her neck.

"You can bite me."

Zylan stiffened. His breath came in harsh, uneven pants as his hands gripped her hips with bruising force. His control was slipping—he could feel it unraveling with every second that passed.

"No... N-Naomi," he choked out, his voice hoarse, filled with raw terror. "It’s dangerous. I might ki—I might kill you."

He was still buried deep inside her, but in that moment, it was no longer about pleasure. It was about trust.

She cupped his face, her thumbs brushing over the sharp angles of his jaw. Her golden eyes searched his—so full of turmoil, of self-loathing. Then, she leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to his lips before pulling away.

"I know you won’t."

Zylan’s body stilled.

How could he explain to her that this was how his wife had died?

That he had bitten her.

That he had lost control.

That he had been the one to kill her.

A shudder ran through him, his grip on Naomi tightening as fear constricted his chest.

He couldn’t go through that again.

He couldn’t lose Naomi.

But as she held him, her warmth seeping into his skin, her unwavering trust cradling the shattered pieces of his soul—he wondered if, for the first time in centuries, he could fight the monster inside him.

For her.

For them.

And then, finally, his eyes met hers—filled with reassurance, unwavering in their trust.

His fangs slowly descended again, sharp and gleaming under the dim light. He trembled, battling the primal instincts roaring within him.

Then, she spoke, her voice calm, and soothing.

"It’s fine, My love. You can do it. I trust you."

A shaky breath left his lips. His hands tightened on her, his body tense as if fighting an invisible force.

And then—he moved.

And finally, he bit her.