CHAPTER 283: TAME ME (18+)

Chapter 283 – Tame Me (18+)

Her body glistened, every inch marked, every nerve worked raw until even her own touch made her twitch.

By the time she collapsed sideways across the mattress, tentacles limp and dangling over the edge, she had no idea how many times he’d made her come. Ten? Twenty? She had stopped counting. She couldn’t count. Numbers meant nothing when every nerve screamed Lux in place of math.

Naomi lasted longer—because pride of her own carried her further. She’d ridden him, kissed him, begged him, cursed him, even laughed in between moans as if to prove she could keep up with the CFO of hell’s libido.

But her human body wasn’t made for this, not the storm he had become. She had clawed at his chest, bit his neck until her teeth throbbed, kissed him until her lips swelled red and sore. She whispered "don’t stop" until her voice broke entirely.

And then she broke too. Her thighs shook, her back arched, and she collapsed on top of Rava, both of them clinging together like wreckage in the aftermath of a shipwreck they’d volunteered to sail into.

And Lux? Lux didn’t stop.

Hours passed. Four, maybe more. Pass dinner for sure. His body didn’t care. His feral state didn’t run on clocks or calories.

He was an incubus, burning through reserves deeper than flesh, fueled by the constant echo of their moans and the endless hunger that spiraled higher the more they tried to tame him.

Round? No—there was no such thing as rounds.

They blurred together, orgasms folding into orgasms until each one felt like an aftershock of the last, a ripple through a storm that never ended.

Naomi cried into the pillow.

Rava curled into herself, still trembling, tentacles twitching with phantom echoes of pleasure.

Only one was still on her feet.

Sira.

Or rather—Sira tried to be.

She was a Pride daughter.

She didn’t admit defeat.

She didn’t collapse like the others.

She took his thrusts, matched his rhythm, met his growls with smirks even when her breath broke halfway through. She rode him like a queen claiming her throne, hips snapping down with brutal precision, hair plastered to her forehead with sweat, eyes blazing.

But Lux was feral.

He caught her wrists. Pinned her to the bed. Flipped her. Slammed into her again and again until her smirk cracked into gasps she tried to stifle. He kissed her neck, bit her shoulder, pulled her hair, whispered against her lips. "You think you can control me? You can’t."

She snarled back at him between moans. "I... won’t... lose."

But her body betrayed her. Her back arched, her walls clenched, her voice broke on his name more times than she could count.

And then—after what felt like the hundredth time, she tried to crawl away.

It wasn’t shame. It wasn’t surrender. It was instinct—the body begging for mercy when pride refused to. She dragged herself toward the edge of the bed, muscles shaking, her legs barely working.

Lux caught her ankle.

His voice was a growl, primal and rough, but edged with something darker than lust. "Where are you going?"

Sira froze, chest heaving, sweat dripping from her brow.

He yanked her back across the sheets like she weighed nothing, pulling her beneath him once more. His mouth crushed against hers, his kiss bruising, desperate, feral.

"Tame me," he snarled against her lips.

Her pride flared—refusing to yield, refusing to admit this wasn’t a game she could win. But her moan betrayed her as he slammed into her again, harder, deeper, until her smirk dissolved into ragged cries.

Sira didn’t like to say she lost already.

But this Lux...

This Lux she couldn’t tame.

Not the incubus unleashed. Not the CFO whose spreadsheets had burned to ash the moment hunger overrode everything else. Not the man who was now pure storm and flame, devouring every ounce of resistance with thrusts that shook the bedframe, with kisses that stole her breath, with hands that knew exactly where to grip, squeeze, and drag her back down into him.

Naomi lay half-asleep on the sheets, her lips parted, her chest still rising fast.

Rava twitched beside her, tentacles lazily curling around nothing, her body glowing with the aftershocks of hours of overstimulation. Neither had the strength to join in anymore. Neither had the will to.

But Sira—

Sira tried.

Even when her body gave out, her pride refused to. Her hands clawed at his back, her lips found his jaw, her voice hissed his name between sobs of pleasure. She kissed him even as he fucked her into oblivion, she bit his lip even as her thighs shook uncontrollably.

"Lux—" she gasped, eyes rolling back. "I—won’t—yield—"

He grinned, feral and beautiful. "You already did."

And her body answered for her with another climax that shook her apart.

Hours more passed. Time bled into sweat and heat and the endless rhythm of his body inside hers. He didn’t stop. He couldn’t stop. Not until the feral state ended. Not until his system cooled the fire that had consumed him whole.

By the time his body finally collapsed—by the time his feral state ebbed into a trembling, panting heap of incubus exhaustion—Naomi and Rava were sprawled like casualties of pleasure, eyes glazed, bodies wrecked.

Sira lay beneath him, chest heaving, hair a tangled halo, lips swollen from too many kisses, her smirk gone but her pride intact in the way she still managed to whisper against his ear.

"You bastard..."

Lux laughed hoarsely, kissing her throat. "You love it."

She groaned, but her arms wrapped around him anyway, holding him close even as her pride refused to give him the satisfaction of hearing her say it.

And in the ruins of the boardroom-bed, with sweat still dripping, with bodies tangled, with sheets torn and the smell of sex filling the air—Lux closed his eyes, smiling faintly.

No contracts. No negotiations. No board meetings.

Just three women, wrecked and glowing.

And him—feral, sated, exhausted, but still smirking like a man who had just survived the storm he himself unleashed.

The board meeting from hell had adjourned.