Harem Startup : The Demon Billionaire is on Vacation-Chapter 726: You Don’t Fear My Enemies
Chapter 726 – You Don’t Fear My Enemies
His hand moved slowly, confidently, exploring with purpose. Every touch deliberate. Every response noted.
Her body arched subtly under him.
His voice lowered again.
"You don’t fear my enemies. You fear losing me."
His forehead brushed against hers.
"Hold me."
She wrapped her arms around him instantly.
And that was it.
That was the moment something inside him snapped loose.
Not control.
Not calculation.
Something hungrier.
His hand slid from her waist up along her back, fingers spreading, pressing her closer until there was no space left between them. He could feel the heat of her body through the thin fabric of her dress. Soft. Warm. Alive.
Unlike the lap dancers.
Naomi’s arms around him were not strategy.
They were choice.
And that did something feral to his incubus instincts.
He kissed her again, deeper this time. No teasing. No slow negotiation. His mouth claimed hers like a starving man tasting real food after months of dust.
She gasped softly into the kiss.
His hand slid down, gripping her thigh, lifting her leg slightly as he pressed her back more firmly into the mattress. His body covered hers, weight controlled but dominant.
He wasn’t crushing.
He was claiming.
Her fingers dug into his shoulders.
"You’re different tonight," she whispered against his mouth.
"I’m hungry," he replied.
His lips moved from her mouth to her jaw, then down along her neck. Slow at first. Then not slow.
He kissed her like a beast that had been restrained too long.
His teeth grazed her skin, not enough to hurt, just enough to make her inhale sharply.
"Lux..."
He growled softly against her throat.
Her scent shifted.
Warmer.
Sweeter.
Desire.
That was what fed him.
His hand slid up her side, pushing the fabric of her dress higher as his fingers traced the curve of her waist. He found the side zipper without looking, tugged it down smoothly, and peeled the dress off her shoulder.
Her skin caught the soft golden light of the room.
He paused just long enough to look at her.
Really look.
She wasn’t just beautiful.
She was his.
Not owned.
Chosen.
That distinction mattered.
"You look at me like that," she murmured, breath unsteady, "and I forget how to breathe."
"Good," he said softly.
He lowered his mouth to her collarbone, then lower. His hand slid up her chest, fingers curling over her breast through the thin fabric of her bra.
He squeezed slowly.
Testing.
Feeling her reaction.
She arched into his hand instantly.
That.
That was what he wanted.
Not performance.
Real response.
He pushed the strap down her shoulder and tugged the bra aside, exposing her fully to him.
His breath deepened.
He leaned down and kissed her there.
Slow at first.
Then hungry.
His tongue tracing, teeth grazing just enough to make her fingers tangle hard in his hair.
She bit him back.
Harder.
Her teeth caught the skin at his shoulder.
He groaned.
That low, infernal sound vibrated against her chest.
"You’re marking me?" he murmured.
"You deserve it."
He smirked faintly.
His hand moved down her body, tracing over her stomach, sliding along her hip. He knew her sensitive spots.
Every one of them.
He’d mapped her like a territory long ago.
His fingers pressed just right along her inner thigh, and she trembled under him.
"There," he murmured softly. "Still reactive."
"Don’t— tease," she breathed.
He didn’t.
Not this time.
He pulled back just enough to strip off his own shirt completely, tossing it aside. His body moved with fluid dominance as he rid himself of the remaining clothing.
Her gaze dropped.
She inhaled sharply as his erection pressed visibly against the fabric of his pants.
Hard.
Heavy.
Hungry.
He noticed.
"You were staring earlier," he said quietly.
She flushed but didn’t look away.
"And now?" he asked.
She swallowed.
"Still staring."
He reached down and freed himself, pushing his pants down enough to let his cock spring free.
It was thick.
Long.
Harder by the second.
Her breath hitched visibly.
He leaned down over her again, pressing the full weight of his arousal between her thighs through the thin barrier of fabric.
Her hips lifted instinctively.
"Lux..."
He kissed her again, rougher, deeper.
"You love me," he murmured against her mouth.
"Yes."
No hesitation.
No doubt.
That answer hit him deeper than any bite she gave him.
His incubus hunger surged.
Because this was not consumption.
This was exchange.
He slid his hand lower, fingers finding the heat between her thighs. Even through fabric he could feel how ready she was.
"So responsive," he murmured.
She bit his lip this time.
Hard.
He groaned again.
His hand pushed the last fabric aside, freeing her from the remaining barriers.
He lowered himself between her legs, kissing down her stomach, down her hips.
She was already trembling.
He didn’t rush.
He let his tongue trace slow, deliberate lines along her skin, listening to the way her breathing changed.
Feeling it.
Tasting it.
When he finally touched her properly, she gasped sharply and arched.
"Lux—"
He knew exactly how much pressure.
Exactly how fast.
Exactly how to push her toward the edge without tipping her too soon.
He was dominant.
But he was precise.
Her hands fisted in the sheets as his mouth and fingers worked together, drawing reactions from her that were real. Unfiltered.
He felt his cock throb heavily at the sound of her.
Unlike the club.
Unlike fake moans.
This was truth.
This was heat layered with love.
He rose again, moving back over her, positioning himself between her thighs.
He ran the tip of his cock slowly against her entrance.
She moaned at the contact alone.
"You’re soaked," he murmured.
"Stop talking."
He smirked.
"Impatient."
"Please."
That word did it.
He pushed into her slowly.
Not gentle.
But controlled.
Her body stretched around him, taking him in inch by inch. Her nails dragged down his back as she adjusted.
He watched her face as he entered fully.
Eyes closed.
Mouth parted.
