Chapter 859 – He Binds with Force, You Bind Without It
Lux tilted his head slightly.
Thinking.
Choosing.
"Mutual interest," he said finally.
That answer? Too simple.
Too vague.
Too him.
Yue’s eyes narrowed slightly.
"That’s not how power works."
"It is for ."
She studied him again, more carefully this ti.
Because Kaelmor took power.
Bound it.
Controlled it.
Everything under him bent or broke.
Lux?
He didn’t bind her.
He didn’t take.
He didn’t force.
He... extended.
Offered.
And sohow, that felt more binding than chains.
Her fingers pressed more firmly against the sigil.
"This is dangerous," she murmured.
Not a warning.
An observation.
Lux smiled faintly.
"I know."
No denial.
No hesitation.
Just acceptance.
She let her hand fall slowly.
But her gaze didn’t leave him.
"You’re not trying to own ," she said.
A statent.
Not a question.
Lux t her eyes.
"No."
A beat.
Then, softer...
"Not like that."
Sothing shifted in her chest again.
That sa unfamiliar pull.
And yet...
She didn’t step away.
Instead, she stood there.
Trying to understand sothing that didn’t follow the rules she had lived by for centuries.
"You’re worse than Kaelmor," she said quietly.
Lux raised an eyebrow.
"Oh?"
She exhaled slowly.
Because putting it into words, that made it real.
"He binds with force," she said.
Her gaze dropped briefly to the sigil again.
"You bind... without it."
Lux didn’t answer imdiately. But then he smiled. And that smile was the most beautiful smile she had ever saw. A smile reserved for soone special.
It pissed her off even more. And she wanted revenge.
In one movent, she pinned Lux against the wall, reversing their positions. This young demon had too much fun, he forgot that she was an ancient dragon. She was older than him. So she would teach him a bit. Not a lesson. She wanted to make him feel that she was not a woman to be owned.
Her hands flattened against the hard planes of his chest, the contact sending a jolt through her own body, a reminder of the connection they’d just forged. Lux didn’t fight her. He simply allowed it, a curious, almost amused glint in his silver eyes. He was a predator, yes, but he was also a connoisseur of power, and he recognized the shifting tides.
She leaned in, her lips brushing against the shell of his ear, her breath warm against the cool dampness of his skin. "You think a mark makes you special, incubus?" she whispered, her voice a low, husky purr. "You think this gives you any claim over ?"
Her tongue darted out, tracing the sensitive curve of his ear. She felt the shudder that ran through him, the involuntary tightening of the muscles beneath her hands. A thrill shot through her. This. This was the power she knew. The power to bring a god to his knees with a touch, a whisper.
"I have seen empires rise and fall," she continued, her words a soft, seductive venom.
Her lips trailed down the column of his throat, pressing open-mouthed kisses against his skin. She could feel the frantic thrum of his pulse against her tongue, a frantic, wild rhythm that sang of a desire so potent it bordered on pain.
She bit down.
Not hard enough to break the skin, but with enough force to make him gasp, his head falling back against the tiled wall with a soft thud. She soothed the mark with her tongue, a slow, languid caress that was both apology and promise. A silent declaration that she would be the one to dictate the terms of this... encounter.
Her hands began their own exploration, a slow, deliberate mapping of his body. She traced the elegant lines of his collarbones, the hard, ridged muscles of his abdon. Her touch was light, teasing, a whisper of sensation that left him wanting more.
"You speak of greed, little demon," she murmured, her fingers trailing lower, tracing the happy trail that disappeared beneath the towel wrapped around his waist. "But you have no idea what it is to truly covet."
Her eyes raked over him, from the powerful lines of his shoulders to the strong, corded muscles of his thighs, to the magnificent, rigid length of his erection.
And he was hers.
At least, for this mont.
She knelt before him, her movents slow, graceful. She looked up at him, her eyes glowing with an ancient, predatory light. She saw the war in his expression... the desire to retake control, to reassert his dominance, warring with the sheer, overwhelming pleasure of her surrender, her adoration.
This was the ultimate power exchange. He had marked her, claid her, but in doing so, he had given her the ultimate weapon: his desire.
She leaned forward, her breath ghosting over the head of his cock. He was weeping now, a single, pearly bead of fluid gathering at the tip. She stuck out her tongue and lapped it up.
The taste was exquisite. Salt and musk and sothing uniquely, intoxicatingly Lux.
A low, guttural groan rumbled in his chest, the sound of a beast brought to heel. His hands fisted at his sides, the knuckles white. He was fighting for control, fighting the urge to grab her, to f*ck her mouth with the wild abandon she knew he was capable of.
But he didn’t.
He let her lead.
And in that, he gave her everything.
She took him into her mouth, her lips stretching to accommodate his impressive girth. She didn’t rush. She savored him. Her tongue swirled around the head, tracing the sensitive ridge, probing the slit. She took him deeper, inch by agonizing inch, until he was nudging the back of her throat.
She looked up at him, her eyes locked with his as she swallowed around him. The move was deliberate, a challenge. A promise.
His control shattered.
With a strangled cry, he tangled his hands in her hair, his grip tight, possessive. He began to move, a shallow, desperate rhythm that spoke of a need so profound it was a physical pain. He was no longer in command. He was a slave to sensation, to her.
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