My Vampire Beloved Husband
Chapter 149: No Response

Chapter 149: No Response

The moment his fangs sank into her neck, Naomi’s body froze. A sharp sting coursed through her veins, fleeting yet undeniable. But almost instantly, the pain melted into something else—something deeper, more consuming. A warmth unfurled within her, an unexpected surge of desire overtaking her senses.

And then, just as suddenly as it had begun, Zylan pulled away.

Her breath hitched, her lashes fluttering as her dazed eyes widened. The heat of his forehead pressed against hers, their breaths mingling in the space between them. She barely registered the way his tongue darted out to lick his lips, as if savoring the taste that still lingered.

It was intoxicating. Maddening. The most exquisite sensation he had ever known. And the fact that the pleasure had intensified—doubled, even—because they were doing this together only made it more shocking.

Zylan hadn’t fully marked her yet; it was only temporary. But even as he withdrew his fangs, a lingering fear gnawed at him—fear of how dangerously sweet her blood tasted.

If he hadn’t possessed such strong self-control, he was certain he would have lost himself completely in her essence.

This was a flavor that should have been forbidden. A taste so exquisite it bordered on something maddeningly addictive. The mere thought of it unsettled him.

His crimson eyes remained locked onto hers, searching, admiring. His body still hovered over her, their bodies intimately connected, as his thick length remained buried deep inside her.

Then, slowly, deliberately, he moved.

Naomi’s breath caught in her throat. One of her eyes squeezed shut while the other remained slightly open, her parted lips trembling in pleasure. The sensation was overwhelming. She could feel every inch of him stretching her, filling her completely in a way she had never known before. A soft whimper escaped her lips, her body instinctively arching into him.

"Aaahnn~"

Zylan simply watched her, his own restraint unraveling thread by thread. A low groan rumbled in his throat, his expression raw with desire and something deeper—something unspoken.

Every reaction she gave, every moan, every tremor—he wanted to memorize them, to brand them into his mind.

Naomi let out a cry, her voice laced with fiery pleasure, as his thick shaft moved within her. The friction, the heat—it was unlike anything she had ever experienced.

It was as if she were floating, her mind drifting into a realm beyond reality, each thrust carrying her to new, dizzying heights.

Just when she thought she had reached the peak of pleasure, another wave would crash over her, dragging her even higher.

And then—he quickened his pace.

A sharp gasp tore from her throat as his thrusts became faster, harder, more demanding. The bed creaked beneath them, the room filled with the intoxicating sounds of their lovemaking.

Naomi clutched at the sheets before her hands shot up to grip his shoulders, nails digging into his skin as she cried out his name.

"Zylan..." Her voice trembled, desperate.

A smirk curled at his lips as he leaned closer, his breath hot against her ear. "Say it again, baby girl," he murmured.

Her body shivered at his command. "Zylan..." she whispered before moaning louder. "Zylan!"

Again and again, she called his name, her voice filled with ecstasy, her body surrendering to him completely.

Zylan’s eyes darkened with a mix of satisfaction and something deeper—something primal.

He had never imagined himself like this again, lost in the throes of passion, consumed by the warmth of another. It was foreign, unexpected. Yet, here he was, moving inside her, craving more, needing more.

This woman—his wife—had shattered every doubt he had ever harbored.

His thrusts became rougher, more desperate. The pleasure coiling in his core was almost unbearable, an intensity unlike anything he had ever known.

He had lived for centuries, had experienced things others could not fathom, but nothing—nothing—compared to this.

A growl rumbled deep in his chest as he buried himself to the hilt, hitting that sensitive spot inside her.

Naomi screamed, her body clenching around him in response. She felt as though she were burning, her senses completely overtaken.

"So tight..." Zylan groaned, his voice thick with desire. His forehead pressed against hers, his breath heavy. "My eaglet. My love."

Her eyes widened slightly at his words.

Something about the way he said it—so possessive, so filled with emotion—made her chest warm.

Without thinking, she pulled him into a kiss, her lips crashing against his.

Zylan froze for a split second before deepening the kiss, his hands gripping her waist tightly.

Her tongue slipped past his lips, tangling with his, desperate and needy.

His control wavered.

Before he knew it, she broke the kiss, her lips trailing lower, pressing against his jaw, his throat, his collarbone.

The feel of her mouth on his skin, her warm breath fanning over him—it sent him into a frenzy.

"More...," she whispered against his skin, her voice barely audible.

He shuddered.

She kissed him again. "More, Zylan," she pleaded.

His jaw clenched as he fought to restrain himself, but the way she looked at him, the way her body begged for him, it was impossible to deny her.

A satisfied smirk formed on his lips before he slammed back into her, harder, deeper.

Naomi cried out, her head tossing back, her fingers grasping at his hair.

He pounded into her relentlessly, chasing that peak, their bodies moving in perfect sync.

Naomi’s body trembled violently as she felt herself teetering on the edge, her mind going blank, her vision blurring.

She was so close—so unbearably close.

Zylan intertwined their hands, pinning them above her head as he growled, "Eyes on me, baby girl."

With great effort, she forced her eyes open, meeting his piercing gaze.

And then—he reached his limit.

A strangled groan ripped from his throat as he released inside her, filling her womb with his seed.

Naomi’s body jerked, her legs trembling as the pleasure finally consumed her. A soft gasp left her lips as her walls clenched around him, milking every last drop of his release.

Then—silence.

Their ragged breaths filled the room.

Naomi’s body slumped against the mattress, exhaustion settling over her like a heavy blanket. She could still feel the warmth of him inside her, the remnants of their passion lingering between them.

Zylan exhaled deeply, his heart hammering against his ribs as he gazed at her. Carefully, he laid beside her, pulling her into his arms, holding her tightly against his chest.

His lips remained slightly parted, his expression unreadable.

Even now, after everything, he was still stunned by what had just happened.

His heart continued to race as he held her, as if trying to convince himself that this wasn’t a dream.

Then—her voice, soft and delicate, broke the silence.

"I love you, Zylan."

His breath caught.

He tightened his hold on her before nodding. "I love you too."

They remained like that, wrapped in each other’s warmth, the world around them fading away.

Naomi rested her head against his chest as he gently brushed her hair back, his fingers tracing small, soothing circles.

"I love you very very much Naomi," he whispered again, this time softer, almost to himself.

A single tear slipped down Naomi’s cheek.

She didn’t wipe it away.

Instead, she leaned in, pressing a soft kiss against his lips.

Her eyelids grew heavy, her body succumbing to exhaustion.

And then—she drifted into sleep.

Zylan watched her for a long moment, a small, almost disbelieving smile tugging at his lips.

He had done this. With her.

Not just anything.

He had made this night special.

Not just for her.

But for himself, too.

Who would have thought that this day would ever come?

Zylan pressed a tender kiss to Naomi’s forehead before finally closing his eyes. A soft smile lingered on his lips as sleep gradually claimed him.

For the first time in what felt like an eternity, he felt... at peace.

***

The next morning, golden sunlight seeped through the curtains, casting a warm glow across the dimly lit room.

Dust motes drifted lazily in the air, illuminated by the soft morning light.

Zylan’s eyes fluttered open, adjusting to the morning stillness. It had been ages since he had slept this deeply. His body felt weightless, his mind unburdened—for once, free from the tormenting thoughts that had haunted him for years. The sensation was unfamiliar yet welcome.

As he lay there, savoring the rare tranquility, a slow smile spread across his lips. He had never expected this—never imagined that a single night with her could soothe the raging storm inside him.

His fingers twitched slightly before instinctively curling around the delicate hand resting against his chest. Naomi’s warmth lingered against his skin, grounding him in the present.

Then, as memories of the night before flooded his mind, his smile deepened.

He turned his head slightly, his gaze settling on her sleeping face. Her breathing was soft and rhythmic, her chest rising and falling in steady intervals. Strands of golden-blonde hair sprawled across the pillow, framing her delicate features with an almost ethereal glow. He could hear the gentle thrum of her heartbeat—slow, peaceful, steady.

For a moment, he simply watched her.

But then—something shifted.

A strange sensation crept up his spine, unease tightening around his chest. His body tensed.

And then, without warning—panic.

A cold, suffocating wave of dread crashed over him, drowning out the peace he had felt just seconds ago. His heart pounded in his ears as he abruptly sat up, his breath uneven.

This feeling...

His crimson eyes darkened, his jaw clenching.

This was exactly how it had happened before.

His fingers curled into tight fists, nails biting into his palms as a terrifying realization struck him.

He had bitten her.

Yes, he had marked her temporarily, claimed her—but why did it feel so hauntingly familiar? His body froze as an old memory surfaced, clawing its way back into his mind. The way Noelle had looked that day—the way she had felt in his arms, her warmth gradually slipping away. The slow, unsteady rhythm of her heart before it finally...

His breathing hitched.

No.

His gaze snapped back to Naomi.

Her heart was still beating—he could hear it, faint yet steady. And yet, the fear refused to leave him. It coiled around his throat like an iron chain, suffocating him.

He reached out, his hand trembling slightly as he gently shook her shoulder.

"Naomi," he whispered, his voice barely more than a breath.

No response.

His eyes narrowed.

His grip tightened ever so slightly as he leaned closer.

"Naomi," he called again, firmer this time.

Still—nothing.

The room suddenly felt too quiet.

His hands curled around her shoulders, his heart pounding violently against his ribs. He could still hear her heartbeat—it hadn’t stopped. And yet, dread sank its claws deeper into him.

His voice dropped, laced with desperation.

"Naomi, please... wake up."

Silence.

A sharp pang shot through his chest.

His fingers clenched, a tremor running down his spine. His breath came unevenly, the fear swelling to an unbearable level. His mind screamed at him, shoving memories to the surface—memories he had buried, memories he never wanted to relive.

The stillness of the room became suffocating.

His jaw tightened as he shook her again, harder this time.

"Please wake up"

No answer.

His fangs extended involuntarily, his body reacting to the sheer terror gripping him. His entire world shrank to this single moment—to the sight of her lying so still, so unresponsive.

One last time—his voice broke as he called her name, louder than before.

"Naomi!"

Silence