Villain MMORPG: Almighty Devil Emperor and His Seven Demonic Wives

Chapter 1733: You Could’ve Jumped to Me

Villain Ch 1733. You Could’ve Jumped to Me

She leaned forward a little to rinse the soap, her hair sliding against his arm. She was too close and not close enough at the same time. His heartbeat drummed against his ribs, awkward and irritated at itself for reacting at all.

“I could still kiss you,” she said after a while, voice quieter now. “If that’s what you want.”

He blinked. “Want?”

Vivian tilted her head and looked at him—really looked at him. “You’ve had enough people want you, Allen. But I wonder if anyone ever asked what you wanted.”

His breath stalled.

She didn’t push.

She just waited.

And for a second—just one—he hated how much that undid him.

So he leaned forward. Slowly. Touched her jaw.

And kissed her.

Not the kind of kiss that unraveled things. Not the kind that led to anything else.

Just… still.

Like breathing in something delicate and forgetting what it was to hold your breath.

When they pulled apart, Vivian rested her forehead against his.

“I’m not trying to win anything tonight,” she whispered.

“I know,” he said.

And he did.

Which was why it wrecked him more than any kiss ever had.

Allen didn’t say anything else after that. Words felt too sharp. Too loud. Instead, he just lifted his hand, slowly, and brushed her damp hair behind her ear. A simple motion. Careful. Tentative, even. Like he was testing something fragile for the first time.

Vivian didn’t move away.

Her eyes searched his face—still close, still within breath’s reach—and for once, there was no mischief behind them. No challenge. Just quiet. Just her.

Allen kept brushing his fingers through her hair, over and over, almost absently. The silky strands were wet, clinging to her shoulders and collarbone, but he didn’t mind. It felt… grounding. Repetitive in a way that calmed his nerves without asking why they were on edge to begin with.

He looked at her, but not like he usually did. Not with that lazy gaze he used to disarm, or that unreadable stare he wore like armor. This time it was different.

Softer.

Like he was seeing her. And letting himself be seen.

Her lips parted just barely before she leaned forward and kissed him again—slow and lingering. She pulled back only slightly, her breath brushing his jaw as she whispered, “Just relax for today, Allen.”

He blinked. Swallowed.

She pressed her palm against his chest, right over where his heart was beating a little too fast. “We don’t want to play games with you. Not tonight.”

She paused.

“I don’t.”

He didn’t answer right away. He didn’t know how to. Because she wasn’t offering seduction. She was offering something more dangerous—safety.

“I know you need it,” she said.

That part hit the hardest.

Because she was right.

He didn’t realize how heavy he’d felt until she said it out loud.

Allen exhaled and let his head tilt back against the cool marble wall. Steam swirled around them in slow, silent ribbons. The sound of water falling wasn’t loud, just steady. Like background music for a night he hadn’t expected.

Vivian reached for the controls and shut it off.

The silence after the water stopped felt unreal.

He opened his eyes and looked at her again, and for a moment, neither moved.

Then she touched his knee, lightly, and said, “Come on.”

He stood.

And she followed, grabbing a fluffy towel from the side rack and wrapping it around his shoulders before beginning to dry him off—carefully, efficiently, not entirely composed.

Her hands slowed just slightly when she reached his chest. Her fingers brushed his ribs, his abdomen, and paused a bit longer than necessary when she dropped the towel to dry lower.

Allen didn’t say a word. Just watched her.

She glanced up once and caught his stare—then immediately looked away.

Her ears flushed first. Then her cheeks.

She swallowed and grabbed the robe hanging on the hook.

“Arms,” she said, holding it open for him like a professional.

He stepped into it. The fabric was thick and soft, like it had never seen a cheap laundry machine in its life. Shea’s household. Of course.

Vivian adjusted the lapels like she wasn’t about to combust, fingers brushing the base of his neck again.

Then she froze.

Just for a second.

Her eyes dropped. She looked.

Allen didn’t move. Didn’t react. Didn’t smirk.

He just stood there, letting her see whatever she was seeing.

And—yeah. She blushed.

Hard.

But she didn’t make a joke. Didn’t whistle or tease or turn it into a scene.

She just closed her eyes and breathed once, steadying herself. Then gave his robe a gentle tug at the waist to tie it.

“All done,” she muttered.

“Didn’t faint,” Allen said softly.

“Nearly did.”

“You could’ve jumped to me.”

“I could’ve,” she said, stepping back and finally meeting his eyes again. “But I didn’t want to ruin it.”

That made something in him tighten. Not in the usual way.

In the kind that reminded him she wasn’t just playing.

“I thought you’d break,” he admitted.

“I thought I would too,” she replied, lips twitching with something between humor and regret. “Guess I’m more grown-up than I thought.”

Allen glanced toward the mirror across the bathroom. His reflection looked too calm. But something in his chest still hummed—quiet, low, not anxiety exactly. More like a weight lifting and then realizing it had been there all along.

She walked to the door, hesitated, and looked over her shoulder.

“You can sleep first,” she said. “Let them crawl around you after.”

Allen snorted. “That’s not how it works.”

She smirked, a real one this time. “Maybe not. But tonight, maybe it should.”

Then she slipped out of the room, leaving him alone in a robe, slightly damp, and feeling… strange.

He stood there for a while, bare feet against cold tile, robe loose around his waist. The air still smelled like rosemary and citrus and faint skin warmth.

His mind spun, not fast, but deep. Like something was trying to settle into place, but didn’t know where it belonged yet.

He walked out of the bathroom eventually, slow and quiet.

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