Novel Full Chapter 1806: I Don’t Know What I’m Doing
Chapter 1806: I Don’t Know What I’m Doing
Villain Ch 1806. I Don’t Know What I’m Doing
Allen froze. Just for a second. His eyes opened, looking down at her hands. Then at her face.
“Azura…” his voice was low, rough. “You sure?”
She bit her bottom lip, cheeks burning. “I’m sure.”
Her fingers kept moving. Up. Over his abdomen.
He didn’t stop her.
She peeled the shirt over his head and dropped it beside the couch.
Then—
Her breath hitched.
Because damn.
He was a gamer. A strategist. A smooth talker.
But under all that?
Muscle.
Not the bulky, gym-bro kind. No. This was honed. Precise. A body shaped by motion, by tension, by movement.
His abs were defined. Shoulders broad. Collarbones sharp like the edge of a blade.
But what caught her attention—what made her heart twist and her thighs squeeze together—were the marks.
Hickeys.
Scratches.
Faint bite prints.
She stared.
He didn’t speak. Just watched her watch him.
Azura reached out, slowly tracing one just above his collarbone. It was a deep one—purple, angry, clearly recent. Her finger trembled slightly as she followed it.
“Vivian,” Allen said quietly. “She bites when she’s in heat—and she loves watching me flinch or hiss.”
Her hand moved lower, dragging across another one, near the dip of his ribs.
“That one’s Jane. She’s into dark romance stories, so she likes turning her imagination into reality.”
Another near his side. A lighter mark. “Shea,” he murmured. “Always leaves something behind.”
Azura’s breath caught.
So this was the cost of being loved by many.
It left marks.
Visible proof that they weren’t just names. They were real.
And yet—despite that—he was here.
With her.
“I’m not like them,” she said quietly.
Allen looked down at her, eyes unreadable. “I know.”
“I’ve never…” She faltered. “Not with anyone. I’ve only ever… imagined it.”
“I know that too,” he said gently. “And that’s why I’m not rushing you.”
She swallowed. Her hands were still on him—pressed flat against his chest now, just over his heart. She could feel it beating.
Slow. Steady. Strong.
“I want to,” she whispered. “Even if I don’t know what I’m doing.”
A smirk played on his lips. “That’s what I’m for.”
She rolled her eyes. “Don’t be smug.”
“I’m not.” He leaned down, lips grazing her ear. “I’m honest.”
She shivered.
And with that…
Her hands kept going.
Down his torso. Over each defined line of muscle.
She took her time. Explored. Felt the power in him—the tension coiled beneath the surface.
He didn’t guide her. Didn’t take over.
Not yet.
Because for once, Azura wasn’t playing passive.
She was learning. Tasting.
Claiming.
And when her lips finally met the skin of his chest—just above another faint bruise—Allen hissed quietly, his hands gripping the couch beneath them.
“You keep that up,” he murmured, voice low and dark, “and I might forget how gentle I promised I’d be.”
She looked up at him, blushing but bold. “Maybe I want to see what happens when you forget.”
His eyes burned.
And just like that—
He moved.
One second, Azura was teasing. Blushing. Barely breathing.
The next, she was beneath him—flat on her back, her breath caught halfway in her throat, and Allen’s weight braced above her, one hand against the couch cushion, the other at her hip.
Not too heavy. Not too close.
But there.
Commanding.
Like a shadow cast in heat.
Azura stared up at him, heart thundering.
“Say that again,” he murmured, eyes locked to hers.
She swallowed. “What?”
Allen leaned closer. His nose brushed hers. “What you said before.”
She tried to hide the tremble in her voice. “I want to see what happens when you forget.”
A low hum escaped his throat—dark, pleased, dangerous.
“You sure you’re ready for that?”
She nodded.
Her fingers curled into his forearms, and he was solid. Like steel wrapped in silk. She could feel the tension in him—those hard-earned muscles, all perfectly controlled and bracing, like he could pin her without breaking a sweat… or like he wanted to and was just waiting for her to say the word.
It hit her all at once.
Ah…
She was a virgin.
But…
She’d played games. Lots of them.
Otome. Visual novels. A few late-night indie titles that had made her blush so hard she had to hide her phone under the pillow.
She’d imagined this.
All of it.
The slow burn. The dominant love interest. The tension. The heat. The teasing.
But this wasn’t a game.
This was real.
A real man.
Allen.
Naked from the waist up, pressed over her, warm and dangerous and hers for this moment.
She bit her lip, fingers sliding up again—this time to explore him properly.
Over his chest, each line of muscle tensing under her touch. His abdomen, hard and ridged like something carved, every inch of him whispering restraint. She explored slowly, reverently, tracing the dips between each muscle. Her thumb brushed one of the faint hickeys again.
He didn’t move.
Didn’t breathe.
“Azura,” he said—low. Almost like a warning. “You’re playing with fire.”
She looked up at him, lips parting. “I know.”
And she meant it.
Because under that cool voice and confident mask, she could feel it—the heat simmering in his bones. The way his muscles twitched beneath her palms. The control he was barely holding onto.
She could taste it in the air.
He wasn’t the Devil Emperor right now.
He wasn’t a player in a system.
He was a man.
And he wanted her.
Azura’s breath hitched. She could feel her own body shifting under his—warmth pooling low in her belly, her thighs brushing together involuntarily.
“Allen…”
He finally moved—leaned down, lips brushing her jaw, down to her neck.
His voice was a whisper against her skin. “If you want me to stop, say it now.”
She didn’t.
She couldn’t.
Instead, her hand slipped behind his neck, pulling him down into another kiss.
And this time?
She deepened it.
Because even if she didn’t know what came next—
She knew she wanted it with him.