CHAPTER 436: I KNEW YOU WERE UP TO NO GOOD (18+)

Chapter 436 – I Knew You Were up to No Good (18+)

Sira leaned up, brushed a kiss over his cheek. "You really were suppressing too much."

"Occupational hazard."

"Mm. I’ll prescribe more sessions."

Lux snorted, eyes half-closed. "You charge by the hour?"

"Oh no," she said, tracing circles on his chest with a lazy finger. "I charge by how loudly you curse my name."

He laughed—low, genuine, unguarded. The kind of laugh that had no audience, no performance. Just him.

And for Sira, that was the real victory.

She shifted, pulling the sheet over them both. The heat between them was still there, simmering, but softer now—no longer fire meant to destroy, but warmth meant to heal.

Lux’s breathing slowed. The glow in his eyes dimmed to a soft amber.

Sira watched him, feeling her own pride twist into something dangerously close to tenderness.

When his gaze finally met hers again, he spoke quietly. "Thank you."

Her brows lifted. "For what?"

"For not letting me pretend."

Sira smiled, running her thumb along his jaw. "You’re welcome, CFO."

"Don’t call me that," he mumbled.

She smirked. "Fine. Lux, then."

His eyes closed. "That’s better."

The warm scent of polished obsidian and sweet hellfire clung to the sheets, mingling with faint notes of Sira’s perfume—an elegant blend of cherry blossom and sharpened ego.

Lux exhaled slowly, forcing himself upright. Muscles still tingled, mind half-drunk on afterglow.

"Right," he muttered, combing his fingers through his tousled hair. "Now I need to meet with Celestaria. She’s probably waiting near the—"

A firm tug on his wrist stopped him. Nails. Warm skin. Pride-born fingers curled around his arm with gentle, deliberate weight.

"Not yet," Sira purred, already shifting closer, silk sheets sliding off her bare form like liquid temptation. "I want my payment now."

Lux turned, half-dressed and unimpressed. "Sira..."

She tilted her head, eyes gleaming like they always did when mischief was about to escalate. "You promised," she said sweetly, dragging a nail down his forearm. "And I’m collecting."

He deadpanned. "I said I’d pay it tonight."

"I changed the schedule," she replied with a shrug. "It’s now. Three hours, no less."

Lux gave her a look. "You always change the schedule."

"And yet you always obey," she said, biting her lower lip in mock innocence. Then, voice dropping to a whisper laced with indulgent sin, "Unless... you’d rather let me toy with your cock while you hold perfectly still?"

The way she said "toy" should’ve been illegal. Her tongue curled around the syllable like it had already decided on a hundred things it planned to do.

He pinched the bridge of his nose. "I knew you were up to no good."

Her grin sharpened, smug and seductive. "Hey, payment is payment. Greed should honor contracts."

He sighed. "Fine. Half an hour. Max. I don’t know when Heaven’s Gate closes, but I doubt they’ll accept me if I’m late and covered in your lipstick."

"Not my fault if you’re delicious," she murmured.

He pointed a stern finger. "Thirty minutes, Sira. That’s it. I’m on a diplomatic schedule."

She gave a mock salute with two fingers and a lopsided smirk. "Yes, CFO."

Lux lay back, propped up against the plush infernal silk pillows. The mattress dipped as Sira crawled on top of him—slow, predatory, the way only a Pride heiress could move when she wasn’t trying to win a war but make you beg for surrender.

She nestled between his legs like it was her personal throne. "No movement," she warned. "Or you forfeit the bonus."

"Oh, there’s a bonus?" he muttered dryly.

"There’s always a bonus."

He barely had time to respond.

Because her lips were already on him.

Her tongue traced a deliberate line along his shaft, slow enough to be cruel, sensual enough to be devastating.

Lux clenched his fists. His cock twitched under her touch, responding instinctively to the heat, the suction, the deliberate drag of her lips.

The room felt hotter. Or maybe it was her breath. Her mouth. Her attitude.

Sira took her time.

She always did.

And hell—she was good at it.

She licked him like she owned the trademark. The soft, wet glide of her tongue moved with calculated elegance—up, down, a teasing swirl at the tip that made his hips twitch despite himself. She flicked her gaze up at him, smug as sin.

"No movement, remember?" she whispered, her voice breathy, cheeks flushed. "You agreed."

Lux groaned under his breath, jaw tight. "You’re not playing fair."

"Fair?" she echoed, mockingly aghast. "Sweetheart, I’m from Pride. Fair is for losers."

Then she sank her mouth down, slow and deep. Lux’s eyes rolled halfway back.

Her throat took him, inch by inch, until her nose brushed his skin. Her hands gripped his thighs, claws digging in just enough to make him aware of their presence but not enough to break skin.

He gritted his teeth. "Fck."

She pulled back with a wet pop, lips glossy and chin glistening. "Language, CFO," she teased, licking her lips. "You’re representing Hell."

He glared weakly at the ceiling. "You’re evil."

"I’m foreplay," she corrected, and then she went back in.

Her hands didn’t just rest; they explored. One hand cupped his balls, gently rolling them in her palm while her thumb brushed his taint with just enough pressure to send his nerves singing. The other teased up his abdomen, tracing the slight ridges of muscle with affection disguised as calculation.

Lux felt like he was being dissected and worshiped at the same time.

Sira’s mouth moved with deliberate rhythm—sometimes slow and wet, sometimes fast and focused, varying the pressure just enough to make him twitch. Her nails scratched lightly against his hips, the kind of contrast that made the silk sheets feel too soft and her mouth feel perfect.

He was sweating now. And the worst part?

He couldn’t move.

Because if he did—she’d win.

And knowing Sira?

She’d never let him live it down.

His voice came out strained. "You’re doing this on purpose."

She didn’t answer.

She just moaned around his shaft.