Married To The Mad Vampire Lord-Chapter 196: Familiar touch

Belle woke up just in time for dinner, and she had another hearty meal with her husband in the dining hall. While they talked about various topics, they carefully avoided the serious ones—anything related to Nightbrook, the king, or even that dreadful hunt that still sent a shudder through her whenever she remembered it.

It was a memory she didn’t want to touch. Every time it surfaced, she was overcome with a sense of helplessness, as though she had been more cowardly than she truly was. It always left her wishing she had done things differently and had at least tried to save a friend, who had risked her own life for her. And so, to avoid stirring that feeling at all costs, she refrained from speaking about it with him and stayed on the safe side of simple, lighter topics.

And when they finished eating and Rohan played and sang another song for her in the piano room, they retired to their chamber early, as Rohan had promised that he would take her out tomorrow to look around Bimmerville like she had always longed to do.

When they got to their chamber and Belle changed into her nightdress, she dabbed a bit of scented oil onto her neck, believing something might happen between them tonight—especially after noticing the way her husband had been looking at her the entire evening. That raw, intense, hungry look in his dark eyes hadn’t gone unnoticed.

She knew it wasn’t hunger for blood or food, it was for her. His desire was unmistakable, yet he hadn’t done anything about it. Not even a kiss after the one they had shared in the piano room that afternoon. It made her believe he was saving it for tonight.

However, now standing before the mirror while he was out somewhere around the house, Belle felt her heart sink at the sight of herself. This was the first time she was truly looking at her reflection in weeks, and she almost gasped in horror at the sight of herself.

Her blonde hair looked thin and unhealthy, its once vibrant sheen now dulled, just like her skin, which had turned pale and sallow. Her freckles had grown more prominent, dotting her face in a way she hadn’t seen before. Her eyes seemed too large, almost hollowed, and her body... far too thin for even the delicate fabric of her nightdress to cling to properly.

And worst of all, she noticed how bloated her stomach looked. She pressed a hand against it, eyes widening at the fullness. It was the kind of bloating that could be mistaken for pregnancy, and the realization made her shoulders fall. Not wanting Rohan to see her like this, she quickly changed into a looser nightdress, the one she had worn during their travels on the ship to keep warm.

She shouldn’t have eaten so much of the food Rohan had fed her. She couldn’t believe she had gone around all day looking this way, unaware. And yet, Rohan had been watching her like she was something beautiful—something he couldn’t take his eyes off.

"This is what you get for neglecting yourself for too long, Belle..." she whispered to herself as she slipped the nightdress on and pulled a robe over it, trying to hide the sharpness of her figure and the bloated curve of her belly.

After gently combing out her hair and applying a bit of moisturizing oil to the ends, she turned away from the mirror. She couldn’t bear to look at herself again.

She walked to the bed and lay down, pulling the blanket up to her chest. But it didn’t feel right.

She sat up again and propped the pillows behind her, adjusting and shifting, still not satisfied with how she felt. Her nerves were prickling beneath her skin. She was just about to go check herself in the mirror again when she suddenly stopped, froze mid-movement, and let her hands fall to her lap.

Then, burying her face in her palms, she realized what this was.

She was nervous.

After so long... she was nervously, breathlessly anticipating making love to her husband again. And the realization made her heart tremble.

That night, to Belle’s absolute disappointment, nothing happened between them because she was too anxious she somehow fell asleep before her husband returned to the chamber.

It was like her body was still trying to make up for all the lost sleep, and any time she laid her head on anything soft, she fell immediately into slumber, a slumber without dreams and nightmares, and even the sense of the other world didn’t come to her in her sleep.

When she opened her eyes again, it was morning, and her husband was lying so close, hovering right over her face. Startled, she jerked up instinctively, not expecting someone’s face to be that near. In her rush of shock to sit upright, her hand flew up and accidentally smacked him across the face.

Everything happened before her sleepy mind could even catch up. She hadn’t meant to hit him.

He rolled onto his back with a groan, one hand flying up to clutch his nose, exactly where she’d struck him in her startled panic.

"Rohan!" she gasped, realizing what she’d done. She scrambled toward him where he lay, still groaning as if in pain. "Oh my, let me see. I didn’t mean to hit you!" she fretted, trying to pry his hand away from his face to see the damage she had done to his nose.

She was so distressed by the thought of hurting him, she didn’t stop to consider that a slap from her shouldn’t hurt a vampire at all, or that she’d smacked his forehead, not his nose, or that he was acting way too dramatic for the little accidental hit on the face.

"Ouch, Isa... my nose..." he groaned dramatically, allowing her to peel his hand away. His nose looked perfectly fine. She frowned.

"There’s nothing wrong with your nose," she said flatly.

"There is, look here," he pointed to the tip of his nose. "I think it’s broken," he said with an exaggerated wince, pulling a face like he was in unbearable pain.

Just to humor him and play along, Belle pursed her lips in doubtful amusement and leaned over him to inspect the spot he was pointing at. As she shifted, her body draped halfway across his, her chest pressing lightly against his torso. Her palm settled flat against the side of his chest, directly over his heart, where she felt its steady thump beneath her hand, something she wasn’t used to. Her eyes flickered down to his chest, then back up to his nose.

"Stop jesting. There’s absolutely nothing wrong with your nose," she said with a soft smile, rubbing her finger gently over the tip of it.

She barely noticed how his hand had moved to her hips, his fingers splaying with slow purpose until they curved around the underside of her backside in a familiar, possessive hold. Despite the chill of the morning air seeping through the chamber, warmth pooled low in her belly at the intimacy of his familiar touch.

Her left leg had slipped over his right thigh in the process, leaving her straddled partially across his body, close enough to feel the heat of him through the thin layers of fabric between them, close enough for their breaths to mingle together when he spoke.

"There is," he murmured, his voice rough and low. "It won’t stop hurting unless you kiss it."

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