Chapter 277: Work-life Balance - Harem Startup : The Demon Billionaire is on Vacation - NovelsTime

Harem Startup : The Demon Billionaire is on Vacation

Chapter 277: Work-life Balance

Author: UnholyGod
updatedAt: 2025-09-22

CHAPTER 277: WORK-LIFE BALANCE

Chapter 277 – Work-life Balance

Lux blinked. "A tour?"

Rava stood too. "Of the new house dynamics."

Sira rose last, like a queen who had already ruled the outcome. "And expectations. Work-life balance. Or in your case—pleasure-pleasure balance."

"I..." Lux stood cautiously. "Should I be scared?"

"Yes," all three said at once.

They flanked him.

Naomi on the left, Rava on the right, Sira behind—like predators in heels and velvet.

Sira whispered near his ear, breath hot. "Tonight, we restructure you."

Naomi pulled him gently down the hallway. "No meetings. No briefings."

Rava’s fingers slid along his jaw. "Only dividends."

He stumbled slightly.

The last thing he saw before the door to the bedroom opened was Lyra, their poor head maid, watching from the hall with a face that said ’I’m going to need hazard pay’.

The bedroom?

Oh, it had changed.

New sheets—blood red silk.

New lighting—soft, warm, and very programmable.

The faint scent of incense and perfume filled the air—pride, ocean salt, and vanilla.

His bed?

Bigger.

Like someone had expanded the dimensions just to ensure no one would fall off mid-orgy.

Lux inhaled sharply. "This isn’t a room. This is a set." Yeah, he already saw Carson’s room before, and it wasn’t like this. Well, this was better. Like much-much better.

Naomi pulled him down into the mattress.

"It’s our boardroom," she whispered.

Rava climbed in behind him, one arm wrapping around his waist, lips brushing his neck.

"And you’re the entire agenda," she purred.

Sira straddled him last, smile triumphant. "Meeting—called to order."

Lux looked up at all three.

And yeah.

There was no way he’d win this merger.

But he’d go down gloriously trying.

He could still walk away from this.

Maybe.

Probably.

If they weren’t currently closing in on him like high-interest loans wrapped in silk and lust. Naomi’s dress whispered as she straddled his lap, her fingers already curling around the hem of his shirt with a precise tug. Not shy. Not hesitant. Efficient.

Like someone who had read the manual and was now running an accelerated course titled "How to Disassemble Hell’s CFO with Style and Confidence."

Rava giggled low beside him, her tentacles already slithering—cool, wet, teasing touches sliding along his ankle, up his calf, then his thigh. One of them looped lazily around his waist like a sash made of mischief.

Sira?

Sira didn’t move a muscle.

Just sipped her wine from the corner of the bed, her legs crossed like she was watching quarterly earnings unfold.

Her smirk said everything.

Oh? You thought you were the CEO here? Cute.

Lux tried to maintain composure. He really did. But Naomi’s hands were under his shirt now, nails dragging over his chest in a slow scratch, while her lips hovered just above his.

"You’re always in control," she whispered, eyes glowing in the low light. "Always planning. Always five steps ahead."

"Yes," Lux said automatically, "because that’s how you—"

"But what if," she purred, trailing kisses along his jaw, "you weren’t?"

That shouldn’t have made his breath hitch.

But it did.

Because Naomi had never taken the lead like this. Not with such surety. Not with such confidence.

And Rava?

Rava’s hands—when had her hands joined the party?—were already on his belt. Her tentacles still played with his legs, one creeping up under his shirt from the back while another snaked between his thighs and squeezed.

Gently.

Threateningly.

He inhaled sharply, jaw tight. "You know I can flip this entire room and pin all of you down in—"

Naomi kissed him. Hard.

"No," she murmured against his lips. "Tonight... you don’t."

He blinked, momentarily stunned.

Lux Vaelthorn. Hell’s CFO. Incubus with an ego portfolio that made Pride demons sweat. He’d seduced queens, bankers, and eldritch demigods using just a smirk and a pen contract.

And now?

He was being... seduced.

Flanked.

Unbuttoned.

Undone.

"Oh for Hell King’s sake," he muttered as Rava’s tentacle slid under his waistband and wrapped—slowly—around his hardening cock. "I should’ve skipped the pool and come straight home."

You don’t need cold water, Lux. You need wet, "Rava whispered with a delighted hum, pressing soft kisses against his neck.

"By Abyss—"

Naomi pulled back, her lips slightly swollen now, her voice syrupy. "Do you like it, Lux?"

He narrowed his eyes at her, his smirk creeping back, but less sharp now—like a blade melting into molten.

"Sweetheart, I always like it," he said.

She gasped as he leaned forward just enough to bite her lower lip. Not hard. Just enough to remind her he could flip the table any second and turn this room into a marketplace of moans.

But he didn’t.

Because even a good CEO lets the board present their pitch sometimes.

Naomi’s hands had found his pants button now—flicking it open with practiced elegance. Her tongue flicked along the edge of his collarbone while she pushed the fabric down, kissing every inch revealed like it was sacred.

Rava’s tentacle stroked him slowly now. Lux groaned—soft, low, involuntary.

Shit.

They were good.

And they knew it.

The air smelled like trouble. Like jasmine, pride, sea-salt skin, and the faintest hint of Naomi’s perfume—something sweet and devastatingly domestic. It smelled like someone was claiming territory.

Sira still hadn’t moved.

But her eyes were locked on his expression. Watching. Studying.

Like an analyst with popcorn.

Lux growled. "You enjoying this little experiment?"

Sira sipped. "Very much so. I want to know how long it takes until you break."

He bared his teeth. "I don’t break."

Naomi’s hand wrapped around his cock, bare now and pulsing with heat, and whispered, "You melt."

He cursed under his breath.

Rava’s lips pressed to his jaw. "That’s your problem, Lux. You think being strong means staying hard all the time." She wrapped another tentacle around his wrist. "But sometimes... it’s about surrendering."

Naomi’s strokes were slow. Methodical. Torturous. Lux’s hips twitched, breath growing heavier. His control was still there—but the leash was fraying.

"Rava—Naomi—" he warned.

Naomi smiled. "Lux, darling. Just say it."

"Say what?"

"That you’re mine."

He glared at her.

Rava joined in, her voice sing-song. "And mine~"

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