Harem Startup : The Demon Billionaire is on Vacation

Chapter 867 – I Want You to Smell Like Me

He didn’t speak, but his head fell back against the tiled rim, his throat exposed. The muscles in his jaw tightened.

”I want you to smell like me,” she continued, her voice a low, hypnotic hum. She leaned in, her breath warm against his neck. ”Like cinnamon, and old parchment, and the storm before it breaks.”

She stroked him again, twisting her wrist at the head, her thumb smearing the slick fluid gathering there.

He was hard now, pulsing in her grip, a silent, aching admission of her power over him.

With her free hand, she nudged his chin up, forcing him to meet her gaze. His eyes, usually so full of cocksure amusement, were dark and unfocused, pools of molten gold drowning in sensation.

”Look at me,” she commanded softly.

He did. And in that shared look, the raw, unvarnished hunger, she found the answer to a question she hadn’t asked. This wasn’t a battle. It wasn’t a competition. It was a conversation, spoken in the language of skin and heat and the desperate, quiet sounds he made when she squeezed just so. 𝘧𝓇ℯℯ𝑤ℯ𝘣𝓃ℴ

She released him, moving her hands to wash the soap from his chest. The water swirled around them, milky white for a moment before clearing, taking the last traces of sandalwood and, with it, the faint phantom scent of lotus.

Then she leaned forward, bracing her hands on his shoulders, and pressed her lips to the mark on his chest. She didn’t bite this time. She licked it, a slow, possessive stripe of her tongue that was more claiming than any bruise could ever be.

Salt and Lux and the clean taste of water. She felt the shudder that ran through his entire body, a vibration that traveled from his skin straight into hers.

”I want to be the last thing you taste at night,” she whispered against his skin. Her lips trailed up the column of his throat. ”And the first thing you taste in the morning.”

He finally broke. His hands, which had been resting passively on her hips, tightened, pulling her flush against him. The water trapped between their bodies became a single, shared heat.

His head turned, his mouth finding hers, and this kiss was different. It wasn’t a challenge or a declaration. It was surrender. He poured himself into it, a raw, desperate offering. It was messy, imperfect, and so honest it made her heart ache with a sharp, sweet pain.

When they broke apart, they were both breathing hard, their chests rising and falling in a ragged rhythm. His eyes were wide. ”Mira,” he breathed. Just her name. A prayer. A curse. A plea. ”You make me horny.”

She didn’t need to hear anything else. She rose up on her knees, the water streaming from her body in rivulets, and positioned herself. The head of his cock nudged against her entrance, slick and insistent.

She held his gaze, her hands framing his face, thumbs stroking the sharp line of his cheekbones. She sank down slowly, an inch at a time, letting him feel every yielding millimeter of her body accepting his.

The stretch was exquisite, a sweet, deep ache that bloomed outward from her core. The water, hot and relentless, heightened every sensation, amplifying the friction, the heat, the sheer, overwhelming fullness.

A long, shuddering sigh escaped her lips as she took him to the hilt, her pelvis flush with his. They stayed like that for a long moment, perfectly still, joined as completely as two beings could be. His hands moved from her hips to her back, tracing the elegant line of her spine, pulling her closer until not even a whisper of water could pass between them.

He buried his face in the crook of her neck, his breath warm and ragged against her damp skin. She could feel the frantic, unsteady beat of his heart against her own.

”Lux,” she whispered, her fingers tangling in the damp silk of his hair. ”My love.” She smirked and added, ”My incubus.”

He growled, a low, possessive sound that vibrated through her entire body. His hips surged upward, a sudden, powerful thrust that made her gasp. It was the start of a rhythm as old as time, a primal dance of push and pull, give and take. The water sloshed around them.

”Oh~”

He chuckled darkly in reply. ”Give me more.”

Her hands braced against the tiled wall behind him, her muscles flexing as she began to move. She rose up before sinking back down, taking him deep once more.

She felt it then, a shift in the dynamic. It was subtle at first, a hardening of his grip, a change in the angle of his thrusts. He was no longer content to follow her lead. He wanted to drive. With a sudden, fluid movement that belied the confined space of the tub, he shifted his weight, flipping her onto her back. The water sloshed violently, cascading over the side of the tub in a frothy waterfall, but she barely noticed.

He was over her now, his body a cage of muscle and heat, his eyes burning with an intensity that stole her breath. He entered her again, this time with a slow, deliberate thrust that claimed her as his. She wrapped her legs around his waist, pulling him deeper, meeting him thrust for thrust.

He could feel her flesh, her tightness, and how wet she was. His mouth went to her breast, her hard nipple a taut berry against his tongue. He suckled, a long, slow pull that sent a jolt of pure, unadulterated pleasure straight to her core.

His other hand found her other breast, his thumb and forefinger rolling the nipple in a rhythm that matched the movement of his hips.

The sound of their ragged breaths, the slap of wet skin, the lapping of water against their bodies. The sight of him, golden and fierce, his muscles flexing with each powerful movement. The taste of him on her tongue, salty and male and utterly, intoxicatingly Lux.