Harem Startup : The Demon Billionaire is on Vacation

She whimpered.

"That wasn't a no."

And then—he really started.

Lux's tongue moved slowly, deliberately, dragging over her heat like he was savoring every reaction. He didn't tease. Not now. He devoured.

And Naomi—Naomi broke.

Her moan hit the ceiling.

She would've thrown her head back if it wasn't already arched so far her neck ached. Her legs tried to close again, tried to run, tried to push away the unbearable pleasure.

But he held her down.

Firm hands on her thighs.

"Stay open for me," he said, his voice muffled and sinful and soaked in dark delight.

"Lux—"

He flicked his tongue in a motion that made her cry out again.

And again.

Every movement of his mouth was calculated. Targeted. He found her rhythm faster than her own fingers ever had. He read her like a cursed investment profile—knowing exactly when she was close, then pulling back just before she tipped.

She sobbed.

"I—I can't—" she gasped, her hands gripping the headboard as if it might save her.

"Yes you can," Lux whispered against her. "You will."

And then he sucked.

Hard.

She nearly screamed.

Her back arched so violently it yanked the belt against her wrists, leather creaking. Her thighs trembled again—worse now. But he didn't stop. His tongue danced, swirled, circled—

And then he hit it.

That spot.

That secret, buried spot that made her soul leave her body for a full second.

Her G-spot.

She gasped so loudly it broke in her throat.

"L-Lux—!"

Her legs twitched. Her body burned.

He pulled back just an inch, just enough for his breath to tease her wet skin. "Not yet."

She almost sobbed at those words.

"Why—?" she choked.

He kissed her thigh again, cruelly sweet. "Because I'm not done playing."

Her whole body shook. She didn't know where she ended and where he began.

"I'm going to drive you crazy," he whispered against her hipbone. "And then I'm going to ruin you."

Naomi's fingers twisted into the sheets now, white-knuckled, her breath broken, mind dizzy.

She wanted to argue. Beg. Curse him.

But all she could do… was moan his name.

"Lux…"

Soft. Breathless. Shattered.

It wasn't a plea, not exactly. It was a confession. A surrender.

And Lux drank it in like a man starved.

Her legs trembled again, her wrists still pinned in soft leather above her head. His belt. Still holding her. Still reminding her who had her, who she gave herself to willingly. The pressure of it only made the sensation sharper. She couldn't hold him. Couldn't beg properly. Couldn't do anything but take.

Lux rose slowly from between her thighs, tongue tasting her one last time before he pulled away—his lips wet with her, his mouth curled in that familiar dangerous smirk.

"You're soaked," he said, voice dark with praise. "And twitching like a prayer someone forgot to answer."

She flushed, turning her face to the side, embarrassed and so turned on it made her bones ache.

He reached down, dragging a hand through his tousled hair, eyes never leaving her body. Then—

The sound of a zipper.

She jerked her head back around, eyes wide.

Lux was unzipping his pants with one hand, the other still pressed possessively against her thigh. The sound alone made her entire body tense with anticipation. His gaze held hers as he tugged the waistband down just enough—

And there he was.

Hard. Ready. And so clearly not suffering the way she was.

Except… he didn't move to thrust.

He moved slowly, one hand wrapped around himself, guiding the tip down between her legs like he was lining up for something more dangerous than battle.

Naomi gasped as the head of him dragged over her folds—slow, slick, teasing.

Her hips bucked automatically, craving the pressure, needing anything—but Lux just chuckled low and denied her.

"Don't be greedy," he murmured.

"You're the demon of greed," she managed through her teeth.

"Exactly." He smirked and pressed the tip just a little harder—just enough that her whole body jumped.

She felt him pulse against her. Not in. Just there. So close. So impossibly close it felt like torture.

Her body twitched, opened, begged. Her hips lifted again. The heat between them was maddening, every nerve raw with wanting. But he refused to give her more.

Instead, his mouth found her throat again.

He kissed just beneath her ear, then dragged his lips down to her collarbone. Slow. Intentional. Possessive.

And his free hand?

It slid up—palming her breast, thumb brushing her nipple in slow, lazy circles.

She moaned again, louder, back arching into him.

"Lux, please—"

He chuckled against her neck, biting her gently before whispering, "Please what?"

"You're torturing me," she breathed, eyes glassy, lips parted.

"I know," he purred, licking along her jaw. "And I'm enjoying it."

She shuddered, eyes rolling back.

Every part of her screamed for release. But Lux was in no rush. He dragged the head of his length down over her again, rubbing along the slickest part of her—again and again and again—his hand squeezing her breast, his lips marking her skin with heat and reverence.

"You feel how wet you are for me?" he whispered. "And I haven't even given you anything yet."

"I—I can't—"

"You can," he growled, biting her shoulder just enough to make her gasp.

Her thighs trembled again. Her entire body was so close, so wound up, so on edge that the smallest movement felt like it might snap something inside her. And he knew. He wanted that.

"Say it," he murmured, pressing against her again. "Say you want me."

She couldn't speak.

Only moan. Only pant. Only writhe beneath him like the belt holding her was the only thing keeping her together.

"Say it, Naomi," Lux said, licking up her neck. "Beg. Or I'll keep you like this all night."

His voice was low—cruel, coaxing.

His hips still hovered just at the edge of her, the head of him teasing at the gates of her desperation. Her whole body ached, open and waiting. She trembled against his chest, her hands still bound by that damn belt, her thighs spread just wide enough to let him see how undone she already was.

But still, he waited.

Still, he didn't give in.