𝐌𝐘 𝐃𝐄𝐌𝐎𝐍 𝐇𝐔𝐒𝐁𝐀𝐍𝐃 ✓ | Muzan X Reader X Giyuu

25. Naughty or Nice

"How did you know that I'm on my period?"

Your tone was different.

Every single word and pause and breath was laced with suspicion, confusion, and mistrust.

While thoughts and questions clamored in your head, Muzan watched you with his haunting gaze.

His eyes traced your neck, your waist, and your hips before making a screeching halt between your legs.

Without knowing, Muzan trapped his lower lip with his white teeth, nibbling as he concentrated on your divine aroma that filled the room.

Every tantalizing breath resurrected his impulsive urges to touch you, to mark you, and to do everything to make you his.

But, control.

He had to control himself, even if that meant willing every muscle in his body to not ravage your body.

His eventual answer was barely audible.

"Your smell."

You stared at the man for a long, long time as if your husband had grown a second head.

You weren't quite sure how to react as you gently tilted your face, allowing yourself to study his calm and prominent features.

"You're lying," you finally declared.

The thing is...he wasn't.

Your response took Muzan by surprise, an answer that slapped him hard in his face, a sharp reminder that his world was darker and dirtier than yours.

His world was a realm full of cynical manipulation. A universe of anguish, pain, and torment.

A world that you shouldn't touch.

At least, not yet.

You continued to watch your husband incredulously, lips pushed to one side and right foot tapping at the floor.

Muzan knew that an explanation would mean digging a deeper grave for himself.

So, he forced a chuckle, one that was dry and plain yet believable.

"I had guessed."

Lies, lies, lies.

Thankfully, you seemed to believe him, permitting all your muscles to relax.

Meanwhile, Muzan caught sight of a wall-mounted clock in the corner: five minutes till midnight.

Crap. He nearly forgot about his upcoming meeting.

He only had a couple of minutes to spare.

"Sorry about mentioning your period," Muzan continued, finally bringing himself to step away from you. "I know girls don't like to talk about their female problems."

You hummed in acknowledgment.

"But, you were making too much of a ruckus. I had to get us out of that," your husband reasoned. "I'll sleep on the floor if you really insist."

Silence was your next response, and your husband had a hard time reading your blank face.

Whatever.

He would try to decipher you later.

Someone was probably waiting for him downstairs, and he had to be there.

Muzan approached the door. "I'm heading to the lobby just to check things out."

Another lie.

"Okay," you mumbled, gullible yet again.

Your husband stepped into the halls and turned back to say, "Let me know what you want to do. I didn't have any 'special plans.' Sorry."