Harem Startup : The Demon Billionaire is on Vacation

Chapter 432 – You Need Therapy

He didn’t answer. His thumb brushed the edge of her collarbone, tracing the fabric of her dress until he found skin. Her heartbeat quickened—steady, proud, but undeniably affected.

”You ignite things,” he murmured, his lips near her ear now, voice a low growl that made her toes curl. ”You shouldn’t start fires unless you’re ready to burn with them.”

She swallowed, her grin faltering for just a second before returning sharper. ”Oh? And what if I want to burn?”

Lux exhaled, the sound deep and rough. His hand tightened slightly on her waist, pulling her against him. ”Then you’ll regret daring me.”

Her fingers rose to his collar, tugging it open a little more, revealing skin.

”Big words,” she said softly. ”You sure you’re not just bluffing?”

His answer was a chuckle that vibrated against her lips. ”You really want to test me here? In the garage?”

Her smirk widened. ”For variation?”

He leaned in close enough that his breath ghosted over her mouth, the faint scent of smoke and spice mingling with hers. ”You’re impossible,” he murmured.

”And you’re stalling,” she whispered.

Their mouths met again—not as careful as before. Not as restrained. It was heavier, hungrier, full of the frustration and exhaustion that had built between them since the fight. Her hands slid up his chest, feeling the strength beneath his control, the heat that never quite went away.

Lux’s hand moved to her waist, his touch both commanding and tender. He deepened the kiss just enough to make her melt against him, yet he didn’t push further. His control was maddening—like watching a storm hover right above without ever breaking.

When he finally pulled back, his voice was steady but his breathing wasn’t. ”You really don’t make this easy, Sira.”

”Why would I?” she teased, brushing her lips over his jaw. ”I like seeing you lose that perfect composure.”

He smiled faintly, his thumb running along her chin. ”You just like seeing me work for it.”

”Maybe,” she said, smirking. ”Or maybe I just like knowing you’d choose me over spreadsheets.”

Lux let out a low laugh, the kind that felt more like surrender than amusement. ”You are the only one who could make me forget the existence of quarterly audits.”

She preened at that, her eyes glimmering like starlight on sin. ”I’ll take that as a compliment.”

”It is,” he said, brushing a kiss to the corner of her mouth. ”A very expensive one.”

For a moment, they just looked at each other—the pride and greed of hell’s heirs, sitting in silence in a mortal car that still smelled faintly of smoke and perfume.

She rested her forehead against his, whispering, ”You’re thinking again.”

”I always am,” he said quietly.

”Then stop. Just for a minute.”

And this time, he did.

The engine still hummed low. The garage light above them buzzed with that faint fluorescent whine. But inside the car?

Silence. Heavy. Breathing.

Lux didn’t move. Didn’t speak. His hand stayed wrapped around hers like it was the only tether he had left. His jaw clenched once, then loosened. His fingers twitched.

And then... he let go.

Not of her. Of the knot.

Whatever he’d been holding in—rage, exhaustion, restraint—unspooled inside him like snapped thread. His head turned, slow and deliberate, and when his eyes met hers again, there was no mask. No witty comeback. No detached CFO calculus calculating returns on affection.

Just heat.

And then he kissed her.

Hard.

Tongue, teeth, fire.

It wasn’t patient. It wasn’t composed. It was the kiss of a man starved too long, who’d finally admitted hunger. His mouth claimed hers like she’d lit a fuse in his chest and now he had no choice but to burn through it.

Sira made a small, startled sound—but it melted fast. She kissed back with equal fervor, arms curling around his neck, her body sliding over the center console as if space had no meaning. His hands weren’t idle either. One traced the curve of her spine. The other found the zipper of her dress and tugged.

The fabric yielded.

Warm skin. Silk underneath his palm. Her dress slid down her shoulder, then her chest, exposing pride-warmed skin to the stale air of the luxury car. She didn’t care. Neither did he.

But the car?

The car was too damn small.

Lux growled against her mouth—frustrated. Irritated. Not by her, but by logistics.

Sira blinked. ”Lux—”

Too late.

With a flash of infernal gold, the air shifted. Warmth wrapped around them like a velvet curtain snapping closed.

And then—

They were gone.

They landed on the bed in a whirl of magic, gravity, and momentum.

His bed.

His room.

The shadows curled like velvet ribbons at the corners of the chamber. Dark infernal silk draped from the canopy, and black stone glistened faintly in the candlelight—luxury and temptation in equal measure. A fireplace crackled nearby, casting flickering amber shadows across his sheets. The air here smelled like cedar, smoke, and something distinctly male—him.

Lux’s jacket was already half-off when he appeared. His shirt followed with a swift, irritated pull—buttons flying somewhere into the void. His skin caught the firelight like sculpted gold—broad chest rising with steady breath.

Sira’s heart skipped. And then thudded.

Because this version of him?

Not the patient one. Not the teasing incubus or the calculating lobbyist. This was raw. Elemental. And completely hers.

”You...” she breathed, rising to her knees on the bed. Her dress slipped further down her arms. ”You really did snap.”

”Careful,” Lux said, voice low, threading his fingers through his belt buckle now. ”You pulled the thread yourself.”

She didn’t flinch. In fact, her eyes gleamed—predatory and delighted. Like a lioness finally seeing her king remember he had claws.

”Oh no, Lux,” she murmured, crawling over to him on all fours, voice a mock-scolding purr. ”You need therapy.”

He arched a brow. ”Do I?”

”Absolutely. Rage issues. Control issues. Repression. Severe brooding. Borderline masochistic denial of pleasure. Tsk-tsk.”