MTLNOVEL Chapter 234: You Can Challenge My Self-restraint
She could feel him fully hard now, pressing against her stomach, and for a moment she debated pushing back, resuming her pace, regaining control. But his grip at her hip tightened, just enough to hold her there, and the certainty in his gaze when they broke the kiss made something warm coil lower in her belly.
This was no longer just her game.
And she wasn't sure yet if she wanted to win—or let him.
The air between them thickened, that warm, electric weight that said one wrong move could tip the whole thing into chaos.
Sira's smirk was still there, but it wasn't as steady now. His gaze was anchored on her like he'd just decided she wasn't prey, she was a prize—and Lux Vaelthorn didn't leave prizes unclaimed.
She had just enough time to open her mouth for another sly remark before he moved.
It wasn't a rough shove—Lux didn't need roughness to make a point—but it was decisive. His hands caught her waist, and in one smooth motion, he pushed her back into the wide, low-backed couch. Pride might've bristled, but Lust? Lust liked the way the cushions dipped under her and how he followed, pinning her in place.
The room shifted in her senses—the low hum of the hearth fire, the faint spice of the incense curling from a carved obsidian burner, the cool silk of the cushions against her bare back. All of it framing him above her, his shadow falling over her like a second skin.
His knees bracketed her hips, his weight balanced but ready, and as he shifted, his pants slid lower on his hips. Not all the way, not yet—just enough to show bare skin and the sharp lines of muscle tapering down.
And then, without ceremony, without hesitation, he let them drop halfway.
His cock fully sprang free—thick, flushed, and hard in a way that didn't need Pride's validation. She didn't need to be told he could wreck her composure with it. She felt the heat coming off him.
Sira's breath caught—quiet, quick—but she met his eyes immediately, refusing to give him the satisfaction of looking away first.
"Bold," she murmured, voice steady but lower now.
Lux grinned, and it wasn't the lazy, mocking grin he usually wore when he was humoring someone. This one had an edge to it—dangerous, intimate.
"You know why I took this vacation?" he asked, leaning just enough that she could feel his heat radiating down to her chest.
Her chin tilted, that Pride-demon instinct to meet every challenge. "Enlighten me."
"I want to f*ck around," he said plainly, as if discussing the weather. His voice was low, velvety, curling into her ears like smoke. "I want to touch tits and thighs. I want to plant my 'investment' in my special woman."
Her lips curved at that—half amusement, half intrigue—but before she could speak, he kept going.
"No," he said, his grin tightening into something more precise. "I won't waste my seed on a woman who only wants to use me. Seeing me as their wallet or vault."
That struck something sharper than she expected, and for the briefest moment, Pride wanted to ask who had done that to him. But she stayed still, letting him talk.
"I'm tired," he went on, voice quieter now but no less deliberate, "of being a tool. A walking calculator."
The firelight caught on the planes of his face, gilding his cheekbones and the darker shadows under his eyes. And for a heartbeat, she saw the weight behind his words—buried under all the charm and power, there was exhaustion.
"I can hold this as much as I want," he said, leaning in closer until his bare chest brushed hers. "I'm a half-incubus, yes… but you can challenge my self-restraint."
His hand slid up her side, slow and deliberate, fingertips tracing the curve of her ribs until his palm rested just under her breast. "I'm quite good at it."
Sira's smirk wavered—not because she was losing, but because she could feel that he meant it. He wasn't bluffing, wasn't playing the way most Lust-touched demons did. This wasn't about giving her what she wanted—this was him deciding what he would take.
The flicker of challenge returned to her eyes. "And if I push?" she murmured.
His smile deepened, dangerous and intimate all at once. "Then you'd better mean it when you give in."
The words thrummed through her like a second pulse. Pride didn't give in—not easily, not willingly—but damn if he wasn't making the idea sound like something more than surrender.
Her fingers slid along his side, nails grazing just enough to be felt. "Maybe I'm not as easy as you think."
"Good," he said without missing a beat. "I'm not interested in easy."
And then he shifted his hips, the hard length of him brushing against her stomach as if to underline his point. She felt the heat of him, the sheer intent in the contact, and her breath caught before she could stop it.
His other hand caught her chin, tilting her face up to his. "Be mine," he said again, quieter now but heavier with meaning.
She stared up at him, searching for the tell, the angle, the catch—but there wasn't one. Just that steady, unflinching certainty that he'd said exactly what he meant.
Pride hated the idea of belonging to anyone. But this… this felt different.
Her mouth curved, but this time there was no smirk—just the faintest, genuine smile. "You think you can handle me?"
He leaned in until his lips brushed her ear. "I think you're already wondering what it would be like if I did."
Her laugh was soft, and it wasn't mockery—it was the sound of someone conceding just enough to see what would happen next. "Maybe I am."
His hand left her chin, sliding down over her throat, his thumb tracing the hollow there before moving lower, down between her breasts, across her stomach. Every inch he covered felt like a deliberate claim, like he was mapping her for himself.