Chapter 431 – You are You
Another silence. Then she shifted slightly, slipping her hand across the center until her fingers curled around his.
Warm. Steady. Touch, not just for grounding—but to stay.
"You wanna go inside?" he asked finally, voice low.
Sira shook her head. "No. Not yet. You’re still here."
He blinked, turning to her now.
Her eyes opened again, slow and lazy. "Once you walk through those doors, you beco Lux Vaelthorn again. The Greed prince. The CFO. You’ll wear the face. That businessman’s face. This part of you... is rare."
She squeezed his hand.
"Right now? You’re just... you. In this car. Angry. Tired. Real."
He stared at her.
"And I like being here," she added. "With the version of you that isn’t already performing."
He swallowed. Sothing slow unfurled behind his ribs.
"...Sira."
"I’m staying here for a bit," she said simply. "Unless you kick out."
Lux didn’t answer right away. He leaned back in the driver’s seat, fingers still gripping the steering wheel, his brows furrowed in that quiet way that ant his mind hadn’t stopped spinning.
Sira didn’t mind. In fact, she smiled.
Not the warm, understanding one she wore earlier.
This ti, it was wicked. Slow. The kind of grin that curled like a hook behind your ribs and pulled.
"Or at least..." She unbuckled her seatbelt with a soft click, leaned closer—voice a breath on his cheek, "until you’re back in your right mind again."
Lux side-eyed her, deadpan. "So this is therapy now?"
"Mmhm." Her hand found his jaw. Warm fingers. Nails trimd but still sharp enough to hint at danger. She tilted his face toward her. "You’re a terrible patient though."
He let her, eyes half-lidded. "I bite."
"Oh, darling." She brushed her lips against his jawline, slow. "I’m counting on it."
The heat between them shifted. Warr. Sharper. Like a match struck near gasoline.
Lux exhaled, long and slow through his nose. "Sira..."
She didn’t stop. Didn’t hesitate.
Her other hand tugged at the collar of his already half-open shirt, fingers sliding beneath the black fabric like it offended her. Her palm flattened against his chest, right over the steady thrum of his heart—proof he was alive. Proof he wasn’t a statue. Proof that even with all his intellect and composure, he could still be unraveled.
One touch at a ti.
"I thought you hated SDA," he murmured, amused. (Sexual Display Affection)
She tilted her head, eyes glowing faintly in the dim garage light. "This isn’t public. This is very... private."
Her lips returned—this ti to his neck. She pressed a kiss to his skin. Then another. A whisper above the vein. A nip just under his jaw that made his breath hitch.
Lux’s hand twitched on the steering wheel. Then dropped.
"Still brooding?" she asked between kisses. Her voice, lower now, was made of embers and silk.
He swallowed, tilted his head back against the headrest, exposing more of his throat.
"You’re cheating," he muttered.
"Always," she said, pleased. Her mouth dragged across his collarbone. "I’m a Pride demon. We don’t play fair. You knew that when you kissed in front of your accountant."
"That was one ti."
She arched an eyebrow, tugging his shirt further open until his bare chest caught the faint glow of the dashboard. "It was a statent."
Lux exhaled sharply through his teeth when her teeth grazed his skin again. His head turned toward her, eyes burning now—not with rage, but hunger barely leashed.
Still, his voice stayed cool. "I thought you said you wanted to help relax, not start another war."
Sira humd. "Who said I can’t do both?"
Her fingers trailed down his sternum, slow enough to feel every breath he took. Her palm was firm but curious, claiming, mapping.
Lux reached out, finally, catching her wrist before it went lower. His thumb brushed her skin. "Sira."
She leaned in again. This ti, their noses almost touched. "Yes?"
His tone lowered, rougher now. "This doesn’t feel like therapy."
"Oh, it’s not," she whispered. "This is purely selfish."
Then she kissed him again. Not fast. Not urgent. Just deep. Full. Thorough. A kiss that was ant to sink.
And Lux didn’t overthink it.
He kissed her back.
Their breaths tangled. His hand moved from her wrist to the curve of her waist, pulling her into his lap like it was inevitable. Like every argunt, every danger, every enemy they’d burned down only led to this.
The stillness after. The gravity.
When they parted, her lipstick smudged on his skin, he looked up at her with a half-laugh. His voice was hoarse.
He rest his forehead against hers, breath still catching slightly as if she’d stolen it—like she always did.
"I think I needed this," he admitted softly.
"No," she said, eyes fluttering shut. "You needed ."
He laughed—quiet and honest. For a second, the weight on his shoulders lightened.
Sira felt it, the small crack in his armor. The sound was rare—too human for a creature made of greed and sin. It made sothing inside her twist pleasantly.
Lux’s hand rose, brushing a strand of hair from her face. His fingers lingered longer than necessary, tracing the curve of her jaw. The touch was deceptively gentle for soone who could turn a demon into gold with a thought.
"You’re too bold," he murmured.
Sira’s smile deepened, eyes half-lidded. "I know."
"Not even pretending to deny it?"
"Never," she said, leaning closer, her voice a velvet purr. "Besides, it worked. You look better now, CFO."
Lux humd, low and amused. "Do I?"
"Yes," she whispered, brushing her nose against his cheek. "Less brooding. More alive."
He tilted his head, his tone turning slower, darker—almost dangerous. "Then I suppose I should demand responsibility."
Sira blinked. "Responsibility?"
"For lighting fires you can’t control."
He said it with a grin, but his eyes... those weren’t smiling. They glowed faintly red beneath the soft garage lights—predatory and warm all at once.
Before she could quip back, he moved.
One hand slid behind her neck, drawing her closer with easy strength. His other hand traced down her spine—slow, firm, deliberate—until she shivered. The air thickened, humming with the static of power barely restrained.
Sira’s breath caught. "Lux..."
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