My Vampire Beloved Husband
Chapter 28: Grow up

Chapter 28: Grow up

Before Naomi could fully comprehend what was happening, Zylan’s lips brushed against her neck, sending a shiver down her spine. An unfamiliar sound escaped her lips.

A soft gasp mingled with surprise escaped before she could stifle it, and her hands flew to her mouth, trying to suppress another unexpected sound that emerged even louder this time. Zylan’s hand slipped beneath the fabric of her pajama top, and his fingers caressed her bare skin, igniting a fire within her as her heart thundered in her chest, racing with a mixture of excitement and curiosity.

Zylan’s hands explored her body, moving upward until they paused just an inch away from her breasts, creating an electrifying tension in the air between them. His lips traveled along her neck, kissing gently, then tantalizingly, until they reached her jaw. Naomi felt her breath hitch in her throat, each gentle kiss sending waves of warmth coursing through her. With every flick of his tongue and every brush of his lips, she felt a deepening connection, a desire that both thrilled and terrified her.

Naomi moaned softly, the sound escaping before she could think to suppress it. What was happening to her? Why were these unfamiliar sounds spilling from her lips now, when she least expected it? Her hands moved instinctively to his neck, fingers threading through his hair as she caressed him gently, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath her touch.

"Ahh...ugh, ahh, Zylan," she breathed out, the name slipping from her lips like a secret. Panic coursed through her as she questioned why she was calling him, why this moment felt so overwhelming yet so intoxicating. Unbeknownst to her, those very words ignited a fierce desire in Zylan’s gaze, causing his eyes to darken with yearning.

He looked at her, his expression a mix of surprise and hunger, his eyes barely obscured by the fall of his hair. There was something dangerously seductive about his demeanor, a raw magnetism that pulled her closer against her better judgment. In a rush of courage, Naomi tugged him toward her, their lips crashing together with a fervor she hadn’t anticipated. Zylan stilled for a moment, taken aback by her boldness, but as her inexperience took shape in the kiss, it stirred a deep, primal response within him.

As their mouths moved together, he found himself holding her bare waist, his hands caressing her slowly, relishing the softness of her skin. Naomi, finally embracing the moment, slipped her hands under his shirt, her fingertips exploring the contours of his muscles, mirroring his earlier touch. The sensation of her delicate hands on him sent a low groan of pleasure escaping Zylan’s lips, awakening something deep within him that he struggled to contain.

But then, in a moment of clarity, Naomi’s eyes widened as she felt the strap of her bra loosening—had he unbuckled it? Instinctively, her hands shot up to catch it before it could fall completely, her cheeks flushing a deep crimson in embarrassment.

Oh, what had she done?

"We should not be doing this," Naomi spoke quietly, her voice trembling with uncertainty. Zylan’s expression shifted, surprise flickering across his features.

"Look, we are married. This isn’t wrong," he responded, his tone more forceful than he intended. Did he really need to explain that to her? Yet as he watched her, he couldn’t help but feel that everything about her was different—unique and mesmerizing.

Naomi pulled away abruptly, putting distance between them. "But we don’t love each other, so this shouldn’t be—"

"Stop acting like a child. People do this. You don’t have to love each other to have se—" He stopped, realizing he didn’t want to make her uncomfortable. But those words hit Naomi’s chest harder than she expected, creating a painful ache.

"Have you not heard of one-night stands?" Zylan asked, surprised that his wife could be so naive about such things.

Naomi’s breath caught. Of course, she had heard the term before—Rose had mentioned it in passing. "So you’re saying that what we did here was just a one-night stand?" she asked, her voice trembling, still holding her chest in an attempt to keep her bra from falling.

Her lips quivered as tears threatened to spill. No, she couldn’t let him see her vulnerable.

She turned her face to the side, but Zylan, aware of her pain, spoke again. "That is not what I said. You have to grow up." Though he didn’t raise his voice, the weight of his words stung harder than any shout could.

"Grow up? What does he mean? I’m already twenty-four," she thought, frustration boiling within her. "I’m already grown!" she exclaimed, louder than intended, her eyes locking onto his, searching for clarity in the confusion of their situation.

"Are you? Or do you simply want to die a virgin?" Zylan’s challenge hung heavy in the air, and Naomi felt her resolve shatter. The tears she had been holding back spilled over, running down her cheeks and pooling against her skin, cold compared to the warmth of her emotions.

Zylan froze, suddenly aware of the gravity of his words. Was she...crying? He took a cautious step forward, wanting to comfort her but fearing her reaction. He saw the fear flash in her eyes, and despite that, he continued.

"Let me help you with your bra," he offered gently, but Naomi’s voice turned icy.

"Get your hands off me!" she pushed him away, but it was too late. As she moved, the bra she had been clutching fell to the floor, the sound echoing in the tense silence.

Naomi’s breath hitched, embarrassment flooding her cheeks. She stepped back, feeling the weight of the moment hang heavily between them, unsure of what would come next.

Zylan stood still, his gaze locked onto her, a mixture of regret and desire swirling in his eyes. He felt the pull of attraction and the desperate need to reassure her, yet he was acutely aware of how vulnerable she looked, standing there with tears glistening on her cheeks and a flush of embarrassment staining her skin.

"Sorry." The way he uttered those words made it sound more like an obligation than a heartfelt apology. It was as if he were trying to absolve himself of guilt without fully understanding the impact of what had just happened between them.

Naomi slowly bent down and picked up her bra, her mind racing with thoughts of how everything had spiraled out of control. This was all her fault for taking that picture of him. As she walked toward the bed, she left Zylan standing there, unmoving and silent, the air thick with unresolved tension. Laying down on the bed, she couldn’t bring herself to wipe her tears away, knowing that if she did, she would cry even more. She closed her eyes tight and pulled the duvet over her chest, feeling exposed and ashamed. She couldn’t even think about putting the bra back on with Zylan there, his mere presence making the moment feel too intimate, too raw.

Why did his words hurt so much? Was it because he had touched her? He had allowed her to experience something no one had done before, yet he had also insulted her with his careless comments. Conflicting emotions swirled within her, a storm of confusion and frustration that left her feeling disoriented.

Just then, she felt Zylan lay down on the bed beside her, his weight sinking the mattress slightly. She stiffened at the proximity, her heart racing.

"Shit... Naomi, come back to bed," he said, his voice tight, as if he were trying to coax her back into a comfort that felt just out of reach.

Naomi took the small duvet and wrapped it around herself as she walked to the chair in the corner. "Don’t worry, I’ll sleep on the chair," she replied, her voice colder than she intended, the sharpness betraying her inner turmoil.

"Behave, Naomi." She could sense the frustration in his tone; he was calling her by her name, which meant he was upset—angry even.

"I said NO!" she yelled, turning to face him, her voice cracking under the strain of her emotions. In that moment, it felt as if everything inside her was on the verge of breaking.

Before she could fully process what was happening, Zylan stood up and approached her, his expression shifting from frustration to determination. He stopped just in front of her, and in one swift motion, he lifted her—not in a bridal style as before, but as if she were a sack of potatoes. She gasped in surprise, her body instinctively tensing against the unexpected movement.

"Put me down!" Naomi protested, her heart racing. The air was electric with tension, her pulse quickening as she squirmed in his hold.

Zylan’s grip was firm yet gentle, and she felt a strange mix of anger and exhilaration. "You’re being ridiculous. I’m not going to let you sleep on that chair," he replied, his voice low but firm, a hint of frustration lacing his tone.

"Ridiculous?" She stared at him, wide-eyed, incredulous. "You’re the one who’s acting like a child! You can’t just pick me up and think I’ll go along with it."