> "Need is the cruelest kind of hunger. It doesn't just eat at your stomach—it eats at your mind, your pride, your control."
---
Seven days.
That's how long it took for Dominic Virelli—the iron-fisted billionaire CEO who brokered deals with dragons and danced through blood-soaked contracts—to break.
It didn't start with a scream.
It started with a kiss.
And then everything unraveled.
---
Day One: Denial.
He stormed into the Obsidian Coven—the most feared magical compliance firm in the known realms—and slammed his fist on the marble table.
"I need a curse broken."
Silence.
His aura alone cracked a nearby wall. Warlocks stepped back. Witches froze mid-spell.
"What kind of curse, Your Dominion?" the head enchanter asked cautiously.
Dominic clenched his jaw.
"Sexual."
The silence thickened.
"Name of the caster?" the witch asked.
"Lyra."
The moment he said it, something inside him tightened.
He felt it again—that spark. That hunger. His cock twitched in his slacks.
He staggered slightly.
The warlocks exchanged glances. This was no ordinary hex.
"Her kiss," he muttered. "She cursed me with it. Now nothing works unless it's her. I can't… function."
They cast a dozen rituals that night.
Nothing worked.
"Sir," the head enchanter finally said, "this curse is not just lust. It's linked to your will. You're… feeding it."
"I don't want it," Dominic snapped.
The warlock smirked. "You do. That's the problem."
---
Day Two: Rage.
He doubled the bounty on her head.
Tripled it by noon.
When his elite tracking unit failed to even sniff her magical signature, he had their memories wiped and reassigned them to guard a sewer pipe in the Swamp Reaches.
He tried to sleep. Failed.
Tried to eat. Couldn't swallow.
Tried to fuck—twice. One vampire, one demoness. Nothing stirred.
His cock had become a devoted monk.
To her.
Only her.
---
Day Three: Desperation.
He broke.
He summoned her image using a forbidden mirror relic. Whispered her name.
"Show me Lyra."
The glass fogged. Then—
There she was.
Perched on a windowsill in some fae woodland realm, sipping enchanted wine, her hair in a careless braid, robe slipping down her shoulder.
Her gaze met his through the mirror.
She smiled. Slowly.
Then blew him a kiss.
Dominic came on the spot.
Fully clothed. Unprovoked.
He fell to the floor, twitching.
"No. No, no, no…"
He smashed the mirror.
But he couldn't destroy the need.
---
Day Four: Madness.
He saw her everywhere.
In his tea. In the shimmer of windows. In his dreams and boardrooms.
One time, in the middle of a negotiation with a Frost King, he hallucinated her crawling beneath the table, licking his inner thighs.
He moaned. Out loud.
The Frost King blinked. "Do you… require ice?"
Dominic canceled the deal. Burned the contract. Set fire to the table for good measure.
Then locked himself in his shower and spent two hours jerking off, biting his lip until he bled.
No matter how much he came, it didn't relieve the ache.
Only she could.
---
Day Five: Cracking.
His assistant found him whispering into a candle.
"Sir?"
"Shh," Dominic hissed, eyes wild. "She might be listening."
"You haven't slept."
"I don't need sleep. I need her mouth."
"You missed the Finance Summit."
"I miss her thighs more."
"You canceled a treaty."
"I'd cancel the sun if she told me to."
"You just said, and I quote, 'I would burn a kingdom for her pussy'... in front of three diplomats."
He grinned.
"Kingdoms grow back. Her pussy is eternal."
---
Day Six: Surrender.
That night, he stood naked on the balcony of his obsidian tower.
Moonlight kissed his body. His cock hung heavy, throbbing, untouched.
His voice was hoarse.
"Lyra," he whispered into the wind. "Please."
He didn't even want release anymore.
He wanted her.
He would sign anything. Give up his throne. His power. His name.
Just for one more moment of her.
A whisper of a kiss. A glance. A single breath against his neck.
And then—
The wind shimmered.
Pink smoke curled into his bedroom.
A scroll appeared, tied with silver silk.
His hands trembled as he opened it.
> Miss me yet?
You look better when you're desperate.
P.S. You left your soul on my lips.
—L
He read it twenty times.
He laughed.
Then he cried.
Then he came, untouched.
Again.
---
Day Seven: She Returns.
The air cracked like lightning.
His body stilled.
He turned—and there she was.
Leaning in his doorway.
So casual. So cruel. So divine.
Her skin shimmered with heat. Her eyes glowed with moonlight. Her robe was sheer, and her nipples pressed against the silk.
Dominic dropped to his knees.
"Lyra."
She walked toward him, slow and sultry.
"You look like you've suffered."
"I have."
"Did you learn?"
He nodded. "That I need you."
Her laugh made his spine curl.
"You don't need me."
He looked up. "Then why do I ache?"
She touched his lips. "Because I wanted you to."
She shoved him against the wall.
Dropped to her knees.
And then—pure chaos.