My Vampire Beloved Husband
Chapter 49: Shadows of Intimacy

Chapter 49: Shadows of Intimacy

Naomi stirred as the morning sunlight streamed through the glass, its golden hue casting a warm glow on her skin. She lay facing the window, her eyelashes fluttering as she slowly awoke. For a moment, she basked in the soft warmth, her mind hazy from sleep. But then, something unfamiliar registered—a weight around her waist.

Her heart skipped a beat. The realization dawned slowly, but with each passing second, her awareness sharpened. Someone’s arms were wrapped securely around her, the warmth of their skin pressing intimately against hers. She didn’t need anyone to tell her who it was. Zylan.

His intoxicating scent confirmed it. Musky and clean, it wrapped around her senses like a blanket, leaving no room for doubt. Glancing down, Naomi froze. She was wearing his shirt, and only his shirt. The baggy fabric hung loosely on her body, but as she shifted slightly, she realized it had ridden up during the night, leaving her bare skin exposed against him.

Her face burned with humiliation as a fresh wave of panic set in. Her bare bottom was resting against his firm, hard abs. Wait... was he shirtless? Naomi’s eyes widened as the thought hit her like a bolt of lightning. She hadn’t seen him shirtless before—not even now, technically—but the sensation of his sculpted muscles against her back was undeniable.

Panic rushed through her veins, her heart pounding wildly. The memory of the night before flashed in her mind—It seemed he had transformed her into this last night when she had passed out.

The situation was far too intimate.

Slowly, carefully, Naomi began to shift. She needed to escape without waking him. She eased his hands away from her waist, her movements as cautious as a thief in the night. Her breath hitched every time his grip seemed to tighten involuntarily, but she pressed on, determined to free herself.

But just as she thought she had succeeded, Zylan’s arms suddenly tightened, pulling her firmly back into place.

"Where are you running to?" he murmured, his deep voice husky with sleep, laced with amusement.

Naomi froze. Every muscle in her body locked in place as his words sent an electric jolt down her spine. Her breath hitched, and to her absolute horror, her sudden jolt made the shirt ride even higher, leaving more of her exposed skin pressed against him.

His hands, still resting on her waist, shifted slightly, and the warmth of his touch made her heart race even faster. Naomi’s cheeks flushed a deep crimson as she tried to steady her voice. "Good morning," she murmured softly, the words barely audible, an awkward attempt to divert attention from her predicament.

Zylan didn’t respond immediately. Naomi felt his stillness behind her, his presence almost overwhelming in its intensity. Her thoughts spiraled. Yesterday had been dark, and the haziness of the moment had made it easier to dismiss. But this? Broad daylight? The proximity of his body, the feel of his touch—everything was amplified now.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Zylan’s hands withdrew. The tension in the room eased, but Naomi didn’t wait to bask in relief. She slipped out of bed, moving quickly and deliberately toward the bathroom.

Her steps were hurried, purposeful, but her mind raced with conflicting emotions. The temptation to glance back gnawed at her, a small, irrational part of her curious to see Zylan shirtless. But she resisted, knowing it would only fan the flames of her embarrassment.

Looking back would be like jumping into a fire—one she wasn’t ready to face.

Once inside the bathroom, Naomi leaned against the door, her chest heaving as she exhaled deeply. The events of the morning replayed in her mind, each detail more humiliating than the last. Her cheeks burned, and she rubbed her hands over her face, as if trying to scrub away the memories.

The warm water of the shower was a welcome distraction. It cascaded over her skin, soothing her nerves and washing away the tension. She took her time, scrubbing her hair and lathering her skin, relishing the feeling of cleanliness.

After her shower, Naomi turned to the bathtub, its allure impossible to resist. She filled it with warm water, the steam rising in soft tendrils as she slipped in. The soothing heat enveloped her, melting away the last remnants of stress.

For a brief moment, she felt at peace. Her eyes fluttered shut, and a contented sigh escaped her lips as she sank deeper into the water. The stillness was comforting, a stark contrast to the chaos of the morning.

But her peace was short-lived.

The door suddenly swung open.

Naomi’s eyes snapped open, and her body tensed as her gaze darted to the doorway. Zylan stood there, his tall frame filling the space. The shock of his sudden appearance stole the breath from her lungs.

"Z-Zylan!" she stammered, her voice trembling with a mix of panic and indignation.

He stepped inside without hesitation, his movements deliberate and unhurried. The intensity of his presence was suffocating, his gaze unwavering as it locked onto hers.

Naomi’s breath hitched as panic surged through her veins. The bathtub was see-through, offering little refuge from his piercing eyes. She pressed herself further into the water, her hands moving instinctively to shield her body.

Her gaze flickered over him, and she froze. For the first time, she saw Zylan shirtless, his bare form illuminated by the soft light filtering through the window.

His physique was nothing short of perfection—broad shoulders, chiseled abs, and flawless skin that seemed almost unreal. He looked like a god sculpted from marble, every inch of him exuding power and allure. Naomi couldn’t stop her eyes from lingering, her thoughts spiraling out of control.

He could break the internet, she thought, stunned. His body was breathtaking, the kind that would put even top models to shame.

But that wasn’t the point—he had entered without knocking.

"Please leave, I need privacy," Naomi pleaded, her voice trembling as she struggled to keep her composure. She prayed he wouldn’t turn his full attention to her, oblivious to the fact that he’d already seen her reflection in the bathroom mirror.

But Zylan turned anyway, his piercing gaze locking onto hers. A low chuckle escaped his lips, the sound sending shivers down her spine.

The way she scrambled to cover herself only seemed to amuse him more. His smirk deepened, and he began walking toward her, his movements slow and deliberate.

"Don’t come any closer!" Naomi exclaimed, her voice a mix of panic and resolve. Her legs clamped tightly together beneath the water, her arms pulling closer around her chest in a desperate attempt to shield herself.

Zylan stopped a few steps away, his eyes never leaving hers. "There’s no need to hide those from me," he said, his tone calm yet laced with authority.

His next words shattered her composure entirely.

"I’ve already seen and tasted that sweet pussy of yours."

Naomi’s entire face flushed a deep crimson, her heart pounding so loudly she was sure he could hear it. The boldness of his statement sent her mind reeling.a sensation she hadn’t yet learned how to understand.

"P...please leave," she stammered, her voice barely above a whisper. She couldn’t meet his gaze, the weight of his words pressing down on her like a physical force.

Her hands trembled as she clung to the edge of the tub, her thoughts spiraling into chaos. His words stirred something deep within her—a strange and unfamiliar sensation that she couldn’t quite place.

Butterflies.

Her stomach fluttered, and she hated the way her body betrayed her. Why did his words make her feel... strangely good?

Zylan’s smirk softened, and he turned away, his tone casual but tinged with amusement. "Fine, I’m not looking."

Naomi watched him warily, her heart still racing as she tried to steady herself. She knew Zylan to be a man of his word, and his retreat gave her a sliver of relief.

Without wasting a second, she slipped out of the tub, her wet skin glistening in the light as she tiptoed toward the towel hanging just a few steps away.

But fate had other plans.

Her foot slipped on the wet floor, and a gasp escaped her lips as she lost her balance. Time seemed to slow as her body moved, panic surging through her veins. She braced herself for the inevitable fall, already imagining the cold, hard floor against her skin.

But the impact never came.

A strong arm wrapped securely around her waist, pulling her back from the brink of disaster.

Naomi’s eyes flew open, her breath hitching as she found herself pressed against Zylan’s chest. His hold was firm yet gentle, his body solid and unyielding against hers.

"Careful," he murmured, his deep, husky voice resonating in her ears. His gaze met hers, intense and unreadable.

Her heart raced, and embarrassment surged through her. She tried to steady herself, one hand moving instinctively to his firm stomach for balance. Her fingers brushed against the hard, sculpted muscles of his abs, and she froze, the heat in her cheeks intensifying.

The sheer intimacy of the moment was too much. He had seen her—there was no denying it. Would it have been better if she’d fallen? At least then, he might not have seen her like this. But what if the fall had left her in an even more compromising position? Naked, vulnerable, and awkward?

Naomi quickly withdrew her hand from his stomach, her movements clumsy and hurried. Her gaze inadvertently dropped to his left pectoral, and she froze.

"Scar..." she whispered, her voice barely audible.

There, on his flawless chest, was a, jagged scar—a stark contrast to his otherwise perfect physique.