Harem Startup : The Demon Billionaire is on Vacation

She rolled her hips just to feel it again, the way he filled her so completely that her body clenched around him without her permission. "Oh…" The sound spilled out before she could stop it, her pride hanging back just enough to let her enjoy the moment.

Lux's jaw flexed as his head tilted back, his breath catching on an exhale. "Damn it… Sira," he hissed.

She smiled down at him, slow and wicked, and then moved—up and down in a steady rhythm that made the couch creak and his fingers curl into the cushions for exactly one second before they found her thighs.

He wasn't helping her move. He wasn't stopping her either. Just watching, his eyes dark and locked on her like she was something rare he was deciding whether to own or consume.

And oh, she felt powerful for exactly three more seconds—until she felt him twitch inside her, his breathing quickening, the muscles in his stomach tensing under her hands.

Her smile spread wider.

And then he came—hot, hard, deep enough to make her gasp when the first pulse hit.

She leaned forward, her hands braced on his chest, watching his face with all the satisfaction of someone who'd just landed the winning blow in a duel. "Oh…" she purred, her hips still moving in lazy, taunting circles. "You came just like that?" It sounded like a mockery.

Lux's eyes narrowed—not in shame, but in the kind of sharp focus that made her instincts suddenly whisper uh-oh.

Of course, he came in a matter of seconds. He was already on the brink.

This time, his hands didn't just grip her thighs—they locked around them, strong enough that she could feel the pressure in her bones. "Oh… cheating, huh?"

Her smirk faltered for half a heartbeat. "Cheating?"

"You think," he said, voice dipping lower, "you can get away with that?"

"That's exactly what I think." She grinned again, tilting her head like she'd already won.

The grin lasted until he shifted his hips and drove up into her with enough force to make her gasp, her hands clenching reflexively on his chest.

"Oh, no," he murmured, his grip keeping her exactly where he wanted her. "We're not done until I say we're done."

Her breath caught, half from the words, half from the fact that even post-release, he was still hard inside her—thick and unyielding, like his body hadn't gotten the memo about being "finished."

And the way his eyes locked on hers?

That was the moment her pride realized this game was about to get a lot more dangerous.

Lux didn't break eye contact. Not once. His hands gripped her thighs tighter, and there was nothing lazy about it now—he wasn't holding her; he was claiming her, his thumbs pressing into the soft curve of her inner thighs like he was memorizing the exact texture of her skin.

Sira's breath was quick, but not from exhaustion—Pride didn't admit to being out of breath. No, this was the kind of quick inhale that came when you realized the predator you'd been teasing had stopped playing along.

And then he moved.

Not just a thrust—he drove up into her with enough force that the sound of their bodies meeting echoed in the room, low and obscene, mixing with the faint crackle of the infernal hearth behind them. The scent of spiced incense curled in the air, layered over the musk of sweat and sex, the mix heady enough to make her grip his shoulders harder.

Her mouth opened to throw some clever barb, but it turned into a sharp moan as he set a rhythm—fast, relentless, each upward snap of his hips pulling a reaction from her whether she wanted it or not.

She wasn't a fan of losing. Oh no.

So she leaned forward, letting her breasts brush his chest, letting her nails scrape down his shoulders hard enough to sting. She kissed him—not sweet, but hot and claiming, biting his lower lip before he could fully take her mouth.

Lux groaned into it, and she liked that sound—it was rough, unpolished, just a fraction away from a growl.

"You think you're in charge now?" she breathed against his lips, her hips grinding down to meet his next thrust.

His smirk was quick, sharp, dangerous. "No, Sira. I know I am."

She laughed—low and wicked—and pushed herself upright, riding him with deliberate rolls of her hips, her movements as taunting as her smile.

The couch creaked under them, the silk cushions bunching around her knees, her hair falling forward in a dark cascade that brushed his chest as she leaned to nip at the curve of his jaw.

She bit hard enough to leave a mark—a blooming red imprint on his skin that she kissed right after, like sealing her signature on him.

He hissed, his muscles tensing under her, but it wasn't pain that had his eyes darkening further. It was something else—something closer to satisfaction.

Her pride soaked it in. She'd marked him. She'd ridden him. She was still moving, and his breathing was ragged enough that she could pretend she was winning.

But then… his hands shifted.

From her thighs to her waist. From her waist to the small of her back. And then—one sharp pull—he drove her down so hard she gasped, her hands splayed against his chest for balance.

"Oh f*ck—"

His grin was feral now, not the smooth charm from earlier but the kind that promised no quarter. "Yeah. Feel that?"

She hated that she did—that she felt him so deep it was like her whole body wanted to pulse around him just to keep him there.

And worse?

He was starting to move again, faster, more erratic, like a wild centaur tearing down a battlefield, not caring who got trampled. The sound of skin on skin filled the space, and each thrust angled just enough to make her gasp again.

Her nails dug into his chest. "Lux—"