CHAPTER 435: YOU ENJOY BREAKING ME, DON’T YOU

Chapter 435 – You Enjoy Breaking Me, Don’t You

He almost laughed. "That’s not possible."

"Then try," she murmured, tugging at his grip until his fingers slid into hers. "Just... be here."

He was. Yeah, he was. Every nerve, every beat of his heart, every flicker of power inside him tuned to her. The bed creaked again; the fire popped. The air tasted like salt and smoke and something sweeter—her perfume, maybe, or the faint trace of pride that lingered on her skin.

And somewhere between the movement and the sound and the breath, Lux realized what the knot inside him really was.

It wasn’t anger. It wasn’t even greed. It was grief.

For the boy who had learned too early that wanting was weakness. For the prince who wore control like armor until it strangled him. For every time he’d smiled through exhaustion and pretended the throne didn’t feel heavy.

He felt it breaking now.

Through touch. Through her.

His movements grew rougher—more ragged than rhythmic. The silk sheets twisted around their legs. Sira’s voice came out in half-moans, half-words—his name bent by pleasure and pride.

And then, under all of it, her laughter again.

"You’re finally here," she whispered.

He didn’t ask what she meant. He knew.

When he buried his face in her neck, when his breath stuttered against her skin, when the last of his control burned away in gold light and shaking hands—he finally understood what she’d been trying to tell him from the start.

That letting go wasn’t failure.

That needing someone didn’t make him less.

"NGH!" he came. A lot.

She could feel it. The warmth of his seed and the stickiness.

His body shuddered against hers, a low, rough noise torn from somewhere deep in his chest.

She gasped his name, voice catching halfway between a plea and a moan, nails biting into his shoulders as every ounce of his restraint turned to fire.

The world narrowed to light and heartbeat. Her pulse against his. His breath in her ear. For a moment, nothing existed except the weight of him and the tremor that passed through them both.

Then stillness.

His weight settled against her, his heartbeat a thunder still trying to remember how to slow down.

Sira ran a hand through his hair, slow and patient now.

"Better?" she whispered.

Lux ignored the system announcement. Instead, he let out a laugh that sounded like disbelief and relief rolled together. "Yeah."

He lifted his head just enough to look at her. Her makeup was ruined, her hair a wild halo, her skin flushed gold in the firelight—and she had never looked more beautiful.

"You enjoy breaking me, don’t you?" he asked quietly.

Sira smiled, soft but sharp. "No. I enjoy watching you remember you’re alive. You aren’t just a tool or Hell’s CFO or Prince of Greed. You are you. Lux. Not only a Vaelthorn. You are a being."

Lux blinked, still catching his breath. "I’m shocked," he said finally, a crooked smirk pulling at his lips. "Of all people, I didn’t expect that speech from you."

Sira arched a brow. "Why? Because I usually talk like a bored aristocrat with too much eyeliner?"

"Something like that."

Her laughter came out soft, low, amused. "Maybe. But you forget—I was there, you know. I saw you before the suits, before the power meetings, before that CFO swagger everyone in Hell bows to."

Lux tilted his head, curiosity edging into his exhaustion. "You mean at the academy?"

"Yes." She drew slow circles over his chest with one finger, her tone losing some of its teasing edge. "You were different then. That incubus who smiled too wide. Who joked with everyone, even when the teachers looked at him like he was trouble. You used to laugh with your whole face."

He gave a quiet huff of disbelief. "I doubt that."

"No, you did," she insisted, eyes flicking up to his. "And then one day, it stopped. You still smiled, but it was the wrong kind. I noticed it the first time you got summoned for one of those investor meetings. You came back... older. Like something got sanded down."

Lux stared at the ceiling for a moment, jaw tightening. "You remember too much."

"I remember enough."

His fingers played absently with a strand of her hair. "You think that’s what happened? That I just... flipped one day?"

Sira shook her head. "Not flipped. Learned. You adapted. That’s what we do when the world decides it wants our fire but not our warmth."

He let out a quiet, humorless chuckle. "You make it sound tragic."

"It is," she said simply. "You learned how to turn yourself into a brand. Into Greed in its purest form. But underneath all that control? You were always the same idiot who argued with me about which sin was worse—envy or sloth."

He looked at her then, the corner of his mouth twitching. "You never admitted I was right."

"I never will," she said, grinning. Then her expression softened. "But I miss that version of you sometimes."

Lux went quiet again. His thumb brushed the back of her hand, tracing idle patterns. "Maybe I buried him for a reason."

Sira tilted her head. "Maybe. But you don’t have to keep him dead."

He smiled faintly. "You really have gotten good at this therapy thing."

"Don’t get used to it. I charge extra for emotional breakthroughs."

He laughed under his breath, the sound lighter this time. "And what’s the bill for tonight?"

Sira pretended to think. "A kiss. Maybe two. And more sex."

Lux squeezed her hand gently. "Deal."

For a long time, neither spoke. The only sound was the soft hum of fire and the faint echo of their breathing slowly syncing. Lux’s hands loosened their grip on her wrists; he laced his fingers through hers instead.

Sira tilted her head, studying him. "You’re thinking again."

He chuckled, tired but warm. "I always am."

"Try something new," she said, nudging him gently. "Don’t."

He let out a breath and did as told. The tension in his shoulders melted by degrees. He didn’t even realize until now how heavy his body felt—how long it had been since he’d allowed himself to collapse into something soft.