Total pages in book: 111
Estimated words: 115388 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 577(@200wpm)___ 462(@250wpm)___ 385(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 115388 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 577(@200wpm)___ 462(@250wpm)___ 385(@300wpm)
A sharp inhale caught in my throat.
His words moved through me—low in my belly, up my spine, curling around my throat like smoke. My nipples tightened. My thighs clenched.
What scared me most wasn’t what he had said.
It was that I wanted to be branded. Wanted to be devoured. To forget my name and take his instead. To burn so completely that all that was left was ash, and his name written in the smoke.
I gripped the throne’s arms tighter, grounding myself, but it didn’t help. I tried to play those words off with a slow, sly curl of my lips. But even that betrayed me because I felt them tremble.
And I knew he saw it.
Fuck.
My body knew before my brain did that he was now in charge.
Then, suddenly, he shrugged off his pants and boxer briefs with the kind of swift, unapologetic power that made my breath catch. One sharp motion—shoulders rolling, hands gripping, waistband down, fabric dragged down too—and then those pants and briefs were just. . .on the fucking floor.
That big cock bobbed.
Oh damn. He’s going to ruin me.
My pussy clenched just looking at him.
His thighs were massive. Hulking. The kind that didn’t just promise power but proved it. Taut muscle wrapped in smooth golden skin covered in masterpieces of ink.
On his right thigh, another black-and-crimson dragon spiraled upward with its mouth open in a snarl. Flames licked around its body. Smoke curled toward his pelvis like it was kissing his soul.
Damn.
On the left thigh, to my utter surprise, a tiger crouched in wait, mid-strike, crouched in a bed of shaded bamboo and storm clouds. Its eyes had been inked in burning gold and trained toward the dragon.
I stared at the thigh. My voice grew shaky. “When did you get that tiger tattoo?”
Kenji’s gaze darkened. “A year ago, I had a dream about this huge tiger hunting me.”
My heart thudded.
“In the dream, the tiger never pounced. It just followed me. Eyes sharp. Silent. I could feel its breath on the back of my neck. The dream was so real. I woke up sweating.”
My stomach flipped.
“I called my artist over, had him come that morning and told him exactly what I saw.”
“But. . .why put that dream in ink?”
“I thought it was a warning that I should never forget. To stay alert. Keep my walls up. Never relax.” He stepped closer. His cock heavy between us. “But now I know that the dream wasn’t a warning. It was prophecy.”
Oh my God.
The air shifted around us, heavier now.
And then he came for me.
What?!
I let out a sharp shriek, more surprised than fear, as he surged forward like an unchained beast, biceps flexing. Pecs too.
He was so fast—so fucking fast—I didn’t even have time to run, move, or breathe. He reached over in half-a-second and his hands gripped my waist.
The world tilted.
Suddenly, I was airborne.
I gasped. “Kenji!”
My arms instinctively got on those huge shoulders, but it was my legs that locked tight around his waist.
His cock thick and hard between us, slick from my arousal, cradled right at the seam of my folds. It pulsed there—hungry, waiting—but he didn’t move to enter me.
Yet. . .
The pressure.
The wet friction.
The heat.
The thickness of him up against my pussy made my insides throb.
His large hands cupped my ass, gripping it so tantalizingly hard that I knew he would leave a mark in my dark brown skin.
Now we were face to face.
His chest pressed against my breasts. My nipples rubbing against his heated inked skin. His face hovered so close, I could feel his breath mingling with mine.
Hot.
Heavy.
Spiced with the taste of my release still lingering on his tongue.
Then he leaned in a little. His forehead brushed mine, and his nose grazed mine too.
“K-kenji. . .” I clung to him.
And for a moment, neither of us moved. We just breathed each other in. Fire meeting fire. His fingers kneaded my ass like he owned it. His cock flexed, dragging against my soaked heat with just enough pressure to make me moan. “Tora.”
Breathless, I whispered, “Yes.”
“You thought you were going to leave this room without getting dominated?”
I widened my eyes and before I could answer, he kissed me.
Slowly.
No tongue at first.
Just lips—full, hot, claiming mine, lathering it with a vow. My mouth opened under his, and then his tongue slid in—slick, confident, unhurried.
Moaning, I kissed him back.
Harder.
Grinding against the thick length of him, hips moving on instinct. My pussy was soaked, throbbing, aching to feel him inside. I brought my hands to the back of his head, loving the feel of his hair against my fingertips.
He kissed me deeper.
I whimpered.
His kiss slowed again.
Gentled.
How could a man so fast, so strong, so dangerous, also be so sensual?
His lips pulled from mine only to brush across my cheek, then lower—trailing heat down my neck, pausing over the hammering beat of my pulse.