Harem Startup : The Demon Billionaire is on Vacation

Sira's pride purred under her skin. That kind of answer was why she wasn't bored yet. Most men—demon or mortal—would already be leaning into her touch, begging, making those little noises that fed Lust's ego. But Lux was Greed and Lust together, and it made him infuriatingly self-controlled. Every inch of him screamed that he could take her right now, but his eyes… oh, those eyes watched her like she was the one on trial.

Pride didn't let herself be judged. She judged.

Her fingers played with the button at his waistband, slow, deliberate. The click of it opening was soft but obscene in the quiet between them. His breathing didn't change—she noticed that instantly—but there was a flicker in his gaze, like he knew exactly where she was going.

She lowered the zipper just enough to slip her hand inside. No hesitation. His hard cock hit her palm, and when her fingers closed around him—bare skin now—she felt the solid, heavy weight of his arousal.

Not fully hard yet, but enough to make her smile.

"Mmh," she murmured, stroking lazily, "you wear restraint like armor, Lux… but it's thinner than you think."

His voice was smooth, measured, but she felt the tension coil in his thigh under her other hand. "You're assuming you've found a weak point."

She squeezed—not harshly, just enough for him to feel the claim in it. "I don't find weak points. I make them."

Her thumb brushed over him in a slow arc, and she watched for any shift in his eyes, any crack in that infuriating control. There—just a fractional twitch in his jaw, gone as quickly as it came. But she saw it.

She leaned closer, her breasts brushing him as her lips hovered over his ear. "Half-incubus or not… I can make you forget your own name."

He gave a short, amused exhale. "You sound very sure of yourself."

"I'm sure of everything I choose to touch," she said simply, stroking him with unhurried precision.

She felt him start to swell more fully in her hand, his heat radiating, tempting her to push further. She wanted to see the half-lidded look Lust-demons gave when they stopped pretending they didn't want something. She wanted it from him.

So she kissed him again—harder this time, claiming his mouth like she owned it, teeth catching his lower lip before she pulled back just enough to lick it. Then her mouth trailed down to his throat again, this time lingering longer, letting her tongue draw circles over the steady pound of his pulse.

When she pulled back, her eyes locked on his, she gave him one more slow stroke and whispered, "Is this your limit, Lux? Or do you want me to see how far I can go?"

That's when he caught her wrist.

Not rough. Not a rejection. But enough to make her pause.

"I will remind you once again. I'm not your toy," he said, voice quiet but edged.

The words hit her with a strange thrill—half challenge, half warning. She'd pushed him far enough to stir something sharper.

"Oh?" she breathed, tilting her head. "Then what are you, Lux?"

He leaned in, close enough that she could feel the ghost of his breath against her mouth. "That depends. Is this only for alliance?"

Her lips curved, but Pride wasn't in the habit of answering questions that directly. Still, his tone… something in it made her heart give a single, treacherous beat harder.

"I hoped for more," he said before she could answer, his voice cutting through the space between them. "Because if this is just a business meeting, then you've miscalculated."

That pulled her up short—not enough to break her smirk, but enough to feel the edge of his meaning.

"This isn't in a business meeting," he continued, eyes never leaving hers. "So I only accept something genuine, Sira."

She searched his gaze, looking for a tell, something she could twist—but found only a steady, dark certainty.

"Be mine," he said simply. "Then we'll have our fun."

It was her turn to feel the shift in control, and oh, she felt it keenly. Pride didn't get claimed—Pride claimed. But there he was, saying it without a hint of hesitation, as if he already knew she was going to give in.

Her hand was still wrapped around him, but now she was suddenly aware that she was the one leaning in, that his body hadn't moved much at all. The heat in her palm was matched by a different kind of heat curling low in her stomach.

"You think you can tell me what to do?" she murmured, her voice steady but her pulse quicker now.

"I think you came here wanting me enough that you'll do it anyway," he replied, the faintest ghost of a smile curling his mouth.

Damn him. Damn him for knowing she was considering it.

Still, Pride wouldn't fold without a fight. She squeezed him once more—slow, deliberate, her thumb brushing the tip now, watching the faint hitch in his breath—and leaned in until her lips barely grazed his.

"Maybe I like you better when you're arrogant," she whispered.

He smiled then—not a full grin, but that dangerous, slow curve that made her feel like she'd just stepped into a trap she might enjoy.

In the next breath, she felt the shift—his hand at her hip now, the other closing over her wrist still at his cock. The pressure was firm, guiding her away just enough to break the rhythm she'd set.

"You're not the only one who can play," he murmured.

Before she could retort, he pulled her fully against him, her bare chest flush with his, the rough warmth of his pants the only thing between them now. His mouth claimed hers in a kiss that was less about seduction and more about declaration—deep, deliberate, and pulling the air from her lungs until she had to grab his shoulders for balance.

Pride hated losing ground.

But Lust—oh, Lust liked this a lot.