Harem Startup : The Demon Billionaire is on Vacation-Chapter 398: You Can’t Beat Me in Endurance

Chapter 398 – You Can’t Beat Me in Endurance

Missionary.

He wasn’t done. He pulled her down under him again, pinning her wrists to the sheets as he thrust back inside, deeper than before. Mira arched under him, her breasts pressed against his chest, her moans hot against his lips as he kissed her hard. Their tongues battled, clashing with the same pride as their bodies, until Lux pulled back, panting.

"You can’t... beat me... in endurance," he rasped.

Her smirk was shaky, exhausted, but still sharp. "Maybe... I don’t need to. Maybe I’ll just... ruin you faster."

Lotus style.

Lux sat back, pulling her into his lap, her legs wrapping around his waist. They moved together, slower now, but deeper, more intimate. Her forehead pressed to his, horns grazing, eyes locked as they breathed each other in. His tail curled around her back, holding her close as he thrust up into her.

Her moans were softer here, but no less raw. She whispered against his lips, "Lux... I’ll never let you go."

He kissed her, whispering back, "Good. Don’t. I can do this all night."

One leg up.

He flipped her again, hooking one of her legs over his shoulder as he pounded into her, deep and merciless. She screamed his name, clawing at his chest, leaving trails of blood that healed as fast as they opened.

Her feral side took over completely now—she bit his neck, his shoulder, his chest, her nails tearing into him. Blood smeared across both of them, sweat dripping, their bodies a canvas of lust and violence.

And Lux loved it.

Every bruise, every bite, every scratch—he welcomed it. Because he could regenerate. Because he was a demon. Because every wound was proof that Mira wanted him badly enough to break him.

His groans grew louder, unhinged, breaking through his usual calm façade. She had done it—made him lose composure completely. His voice filled the room, moaning her name, cursing, laughing through the madness of it all.

And Mira? She rode him until her body gave out, until her legs trembled and her nails dulled from gripping too hard, until her throat was raw from screaming. She collapsed against him, shaking, still biting his lip through a laugh.

Lux held her close, still hard inside her, still smirking even as his chest rose and fell like he’d run a marathon. "You really... took my investment well," he rasped, kissing her sweaty forehead.

Mira groaned against his chest, exhausted, but still sarcastic. "Don’t flatter yourself. I was just... liquidating assets."

He laughed, raw and broken, kissing her again. "I fucking love dragons."

And in the quiet aftermath, with blood and sweat cooling between them, Lux knew—this wasn’t just another conquest. Mira wasn’t just another piece in his growing harem. She was a partner, a beast who could match him bite for bite.

And he couldn’t wait to be bankrupted again.

Morning came cruelly.

Lux stirred first, his body twitching as if he’d just fought through a dozen boardroom battles, a hundred hostile takeovers, and an orgy with three infernal goddesses all in the same night. His eyes cracked open, and the soft gray light of dawn filtered in through the curtains.

He cursed under his breath. "Shit."

His body hurt. In places he didn’t even know could hurt. His thighs felt like stone, his hips ached, his chest stung where Mira’s claws had dragged him raw. He glanced down at himself and winced. He looked less like a prince of Greed and Lust and more like a wrecked battleship washed ashore.

The sheets were ruined—blood, sweat, and the faint scorch-mark smell of dragon heat still clinging to the fabric. Mira was sprawled beside him, hair wild, horns crooked, tail dangling limply off the side of the bed. She looked feral even in sleep, lips parted, a faint smirk still lingering on her exhausted face.

Lux dragged himself up slowly, every movement a reminder of last night’s war. His cock twitched just from the memory and he cursed again, grabbing his forehead. "Damn... I’m going to die by orgasm if I ever get hoarded by three dragons. My load will dry for sure."

His voice was hoarse, cracked from all the groaning Mira had wrung out of him. He swung his legs off the bed and stood, swaying like he’d drunk half a cellar of demon-wine.

The room spun a little. His wings gave an unsteady twitch before folding back tight. He muttered to himself, "Coffee. I need coffee. Not tea. Not dragon-brewed flower shit. Coffee."

But on the bedside table, all that sat was a delicate porcelain teapot with Mira’s seal etched into it. He glared at it like it had personally betrayed him. 𝚏𝗿𝗲𝐞𝚠𝕖𝐛𝗻𝗼𝐯𝕖𝚕.𝚌𝗼𝗺

"Tea," he said bitterly. "Of course. Dragons and their goddamn tea."

He stumbled toward the mirror, bare feet dragging across the rug, his body still humming from everything Mira had put him through.

When he caught sight of himself, he stopped dead.

"Oh... damn."

His reflection looked like a disaster. Hair mussed and stuck up in every direction, lips swollen, neck covered in bite marks—some deep enough that even his incubus regeneration was still knitting them together. His chest was littered with claw marks and bruises. His tail twitched sluggishly, wings sagging as if even they were too tired to posture.

"I’m a mess," Lux muttered, leaning against the dresser for balance. Then his grin crooked, sharp despite his exhaustion. "A hot mess."

[Observation: You resembles a battlefield survivor post-dragon raid.]

[Recommendation: Coffee intake at maximum dosage. Avoid mirrors until further recovery.]

[Status: Still unreasonably attractive. Unfairly so.]

Lux groaned and rubbed his face. "Thanks. Just what I needed—a status update on how fuckable I look when I feel like death."

[Correction. You look more fuckable post-destruction. Confidence factor: 97%.]

"Yeah, great," he muttered. "Real comforting when my entire body feels like it’s been turned inside out."

His eyes flicked back to the bed. Mira hadn’t stirred. She was dead asleep, tangled in the sheets, one arm flung across the pillow like she was still holding him captive even in dreams. She looked almost innocent like that—if you ignored the bruises she’d left on his chest, the blood drying on her nails, and the smug little curl of her mouth even in slumber.