Chapter 855 – Obey Me...

"You want me to kneel? For you?" She repeated, her voice husky from her recent release. She looked over her shoulder, a challenging glint in her eyes. A hint of her dragon pride, a flicker of defiance.

Lux’s smile was all teeth, a predator’s grin. "Yes. Obey me... And I will give you more pleasure. Let me entertain you."

His words were a direct challenge. He saw her too well. Saw the restless, ancient spirit trapped by circumstance, yearning for something, anything, to break the monotony of her long existence.

The choice was hers.

Submit to this brazen incubus, this creature of Greed and Lust, and in doing so, find a release she hadn’t known she was craving.

Or maintain her pride, her aloof dignity, and retreat back into the comfortable, familiar cage of her solitude.

Her decision was made in the span of a single, shuddering breath.

Slowly, gracefully, she pushed herself up from the counter. She slid from the marble, her bare feet silent on the cool tiled floor. She turned to face him, her torn cheongsam clinging to her like a lover’s desperate embrace.

She did not kneel immediately.

She held his gaze, a silent battle of wills playing out in the charged air between them. His eyes were dark, filled with a hungry, predatory light that should have terrified her. Instead, it called to the wild, untamed part of her soul.

She sank to her knees.

It was not an act of submission, but one of deliberate, conscious choice.

She knelt before him, not as a supplicant, but as a queen bestowing a favor. Her back was straight, her head held high. The shattered mirror fragments on the floor reflected her a hundred times over, a fractured legion of dragons and demons.

Lux watched her, his expression unreadable for a moment. Then, a slow, breathtaking smile spread across his face. It was a smile of victory, yes, but also of something deeper. Of understanding.

He reached down, his fingers tangling in her hair. His touch was surprisingly gentle.

He guided her forward, a silent, undeniable command.

She opened for him, her lips parting in anticipation. He was fully erect now, a magnificent monument of flesh and desire.

He was not merely large, he was perfectly formed, strong and hard. A single, prominent vein pulsed along its length, a river of life and power.

She took him into her mouth.

The sensation was electric. He was hot and hard, the skin smooth as velvet over unyielding steel. He tasted of salt and musk, a primal, masculine flavor that filled her senses.

But above all, it was his reaction that made her excited. A sharp, ragged inhale. A tightening of his grip in her hair. For a moment, the composed, arrogant incubus was gone, replaced by a creature of pure, unadulterated need.

It was a heady, intoxicating feeling.

This power she held over him in this moment.

She began to move, her tongue swirling around the head, tracing the sensitive ridge. She took him deeper, her lips stretching to accommodate him. She found a rhythm, a slow, sensual dance of lips and tongue. This wasn’t just an act, it was a conversation.

She could feel the tension coiling in him, the taut control he exerted to keep from taking over, from fucking her mouth with the wild abandon she sensed he was capable of.

Her hands came up to rest on his thighs, feeling the corded muscle beneath the skin. She could feel the tremor that ran through him, the subtle vibration of his suppressed desire.

"F*ck!"

Lux’s head fell back, a guttural groan tearing from his throat. The sound was raw, primal, a symphony to her ears.

She redoubled her efforts, taking him as deep as she could, her nose brushing against his base. She swallowed around him, the muscles of her throat constricting, and his whole body jerked.

His hips began to move, a shallow, thrusting rhythm that he couldn’t quite suppress. He was losing control, and the knowledge was a potent aphrodisiac. She felt a surge of power, a fierce, feminine triumph that mingled with her own rising arousal.

"Stop," he breathed, the word a ragged command.

She paused, looking up at him. His face was a mask of intense pleasure, his jaw tight, his eyes closed. He was fighting a battle with himself, a war between the incubus’s insatiable hunger and the man’s desire to savor the moment.

"Why?" she asked, her voice a husky whisper, her lips still brushing against him.

He opened his eyes, and the look in them stole her breath. It was a look of pure, unadulterated hunger, a desire so deep it was a physical force.

He tangled his fingers in her hair, pulling her up from her knees. His grip was firm, unyielding, a claim that she found herself eager to accept.

"Because if you don’t," he growled, his lips crashing down on hers, "I’m going to finish right here, right now. And I don’t want that. I don’t want to waste my seeds."

The kiss was brutal, a clash of teeth and tongues. He tasted himself on her, a primal, possessive act that sent a fresh wave of heat through her. His hands roamed her body, squeezing, caressing, claiming. He tore the last remnants of her cheongsam from her body, the silk finally giving up its ghost and falling away to leave her completely bare before him.

He lifted her again, as easily as if she were a doll, and set her back on the counter. The marble was still cold. He stepped between her legs, his cock pressing against her slick, swollen folds.

The contact was a lightning strike.

Her body jolted, a desperate, needy sound escaping her lips. She was so empty, so achingly ready for him.

He didn’t enter her.

Not yet.

He just stood there, his hands gripping her hips, the head of his cock teasing her entrance.