Harem Startup : The Demon Billionaire is on Vacation

Chapter 86 – You’re a Menace

Ring!

The hotel room phone screamed like it had a vendetta against pleasure.

Lux didn’t flinch. His mouth was too busy pressed against Rava’s neck, tongue tracing a slow path toward her collarbone. One of her legs was draped over his thigh, slick with sweat, the evidence of round fourteen still drying in sin-streaked trails on her skin—her face, her thighs, and yeah, a bit on her ribs because he’d gotten very enthusiastic halfway through.

His hand lazily circled one of her nipples, teasing until it pebbled again, coaxing another sigh from her. Her tentacles were busy roaming his back, his chest, one even curling around his hip like it was trying to memorize the lines of him in braille.

”Again?” Rava whispered, voice husky, cheeks flushed as her hips subtly rocked up against his.

Lux smirked against her skin, lips ghosting along her jawline. ”Mmm... Just one more.”

Ring!

The phone was louder now. Persistent. Like the hotel had decided to play divine cockblock.

Lux groaned and didn’t stop moving. He was half-hard again, his hips already aligning, her body arching into him like muscle memory.

Ring!

Rava broke the kiss with a breathy whimper. ”I think you need to answer that.”

He paused—just slightly, reluctantly. ”Seriously?”

She blinked up at him, her tentacles still curling greedily around his arms and lower back. ”Could be your motorcycle.”

That made him groan louder. Not in a good way. ”Right... Motorcycle.”

He dropped one last slow, lingering kiss against her lips—grabbing a handful of her breast with obvious regret—then rolled away and flopped dramatically toward the nightstand like it had personally betrayed him.

His hand slammed the receiver up to his ear. ”Hello.”

A chipper voice chirped on the other end. ”Good morning, Mr. Vaelthorn! This is the front desk. We’re pleased to inform you your custom motorbike delivery has arrived. We’ll need you to come down to the lobby to receive and sign.”

Lux stared at the ceiling, murder in his eyes.

”...I’ll be there.”

He hung up and dragged his fingers down his face. ”Yeah. My motorcycle came.”

”Good,” Rava muttered, collapsing back into the sheets. ”Because if it didn’t, I was going to call and fake it just to make you stop.” She rolled onto her back, wiping at the streaks on her cheek with the corner of the sheet, then glanced down her own body with a groan. ”I need food. You’re a menace.”

”Thanks for the compliment,” he said, hopping off the bed and searching for clothes like someone on a scavenger hunt. He tugged on black boxer-briefs, pants, and a half-buttoned shirt—all while brushing his fingers through his disheveled hair like it was some kind of damage control.

A glance in the mirror.

Hair? A mess.

Eyes? Still glowing faintly.

Neck? Slight hickey.

Aura? Absolutely oozing sin.

He sighed. ”Yeah, that’s as subtle as I get.”

”You still smell like sex,” Rava purred from the bed, licking a croissant lazily. ”Good luck.”

Lux gave her a wink, pocketed his keycard, and stepped out of the suite.

The hallway was pristine, bathed in soft gold lighting with marble floors that reflected the smudge of his footsteps. The elevator chimed the moment he pressed the button, doors sliding open with the hush of expensive design.

Inside... empty.

Lux stepped in and leaned back against the mirrored wall.

He took a breath.

Her taste was still on his lips. The ghost of her tentacles still tickled under his shirt.

He needed to not get a boner in the elevator.

The floor display ticked down.

Ding!

Floor 20.

The doors opened.

A young couple entered—a man in board shorts and a muscle tee, and his girlfriend in a designer beach wrap that didn’t cover much of anything. They glanced at Lux once, then again. And then again.

He nodded politely. Said nothing.

The doors closed.

And the moment they did, the scent of him—them—must’ve hit like a wave.

The girlfriend blinked. Her nose twitched. Her eyes drifted.

Lux could feel it. The subtle shift in body language. The way her shoulder brushed her boyfriend’s arm a little too hard, like she was trying to focus on anything except the sinful aura seeping from Lux like pheromone-rich cologne.

[Incubus Pheromones – Passive Active]

[Charm Effect Radius: 5 meters]

[Status: ”Freshly Ravished” – Scent Intensity: 92%]

[Warning: Mortals may experience heightened curiosity, arousal, or existential crises]

Ding!

Floor 12.

Another girl entered—alone this time. Early twenties. Minimal makeup. Cute blouse. Earbuds in.

Then she caught a whiff.

Her steps slowed.

Her gaze latched to Lux. Down. Up. Down again.

Lux casually looked up at the floor number, pretending not to notice the way her cheeks turned faintly pink. Her eyes flicked to his shirt—half unbuttoned. Then to his throat. His lips. Her breath hitched just slightly.

Lux exhaled. Soft. Controlled.

He could feel it—all of it. Like invisible threads stretching from his aura into the space around him. He didn’t even have to do anything. No words. No glances. Just existing.

The girl in the corner was now adjusting her blouse strap with a slightly trembling hand.

The boyfriend from the couple subtly moved between Lux and his girlfriend.

Smart man.

Ding!

Lobby.

The doors slid open and Lux walked out like the final boss of a perfume commercial. No words. No farewell. Just pure, effortless, sin-soaked silence.

Behind him, all three elevator occupants stared for a beat longer than they should’ve.

The lobby was its usual polished self—glass chandeliers, velvet couches, faint piano music looping somewhere from hidden speakers. But in front of the main entrance, parked like a summoned beast from a different world, stood his motorcycle.

Sleek. Midnight black with chrome-gold trim. Matte finish. It purred like a living thing—silent but dangerous.

Two hotel staff stood beside it, sweating slightly.

One of them saw Lux and instinctively stood straighter.

”Mr. Vaelthorn?”

Lux nodded, stepping forward. ”That’s me.”

”Your motorcycle has arrived, sir. The manufacturer provided the keys and... ah, a pair of helmets.”

Lux took the keys, running his fingers along the leather strap. ”Perfect.”