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)
Then the second thrust—deep and ruthless—like a line being drawn down the spine of a war map. My cock would sink in her fully, her pussy already soaked from the way I’d whispered her name in the dark hours before this.
Tora.
Not Nyomi.
Not the name the world knew.
Tora.
My naughty Tiger.
She’d snarl for my cock because she was wild. She'd take it like a woman who was always meant to ride the edge of danger and beauty. Her ass would bounce from the impact of my hips, her back arching, her mouth opening in shock as I fucked her again—and again—and again.
No teasing.
No games.
Just a man reclaiming every part of her she thought she could control.
“You want me on my knees?” I would growl into her ear, slamming her harder against the lacquered wood as her cries echoed off the ceiling. “You’ll have to learn what it means to kneel first. You’ll have to feel what I feel when I hold back.”
She’d nod, dazed and bliss drunk.
But I wouldn’t stop.
Because she needed to understand the kind of man I was when I let go.
I’d flip her onto her back, fuck her on the piano’s top like she was made for music, made for madness, made for me. Her moans would be arias, operatic and wild. I wouldn’t stop until she was limp, her thighs shaking, her body trembling with too much pleasure to speak.
Only then—when her mascara ran, and her body bore the memory of every ruthless thrust—would I whisper the truth into the space between us.
“Now you know. If I ever give you the power to bring me to my knees, you’ll understand what it means to carry it.”
Because that was what the Dragon demanded of a Queen.
Then, and only then, would I fall to my knees for her.
And I wouldn’t rise until she told me to.
My body trembled.
The door opened with a soft sound.
My personal Scales entered—three women dressed in deep garnet uniforms belted at the waist. No jewelry. No perfume. No voices unless invited.
In this world, anyone who served beneath me without holding blood, blade, or command were considered the Dragon’s Scales.
Low soldiers.
Couriers.
Cooks.
Personal attendants.
They were the shimmer, not the strike. The surface before the fangs sank in. They didn’t command but they prepared. They didn’t fight but they armored those who did.
Some stayed in their position forever.
Others—if they proved useful, sharp, and loyal—rose into something more. But almost everyone began as a Scale.
However, these Scales in my suite, were more than attendants, more than simple women. They had been chosen when they were still girls—hand-selected by my father to serve me. Trained not just in obedience but in elegance. Not just in detail but devotion.
Back then, he had called them my handmaidens. Even then, I knew what he meant. They were truly chosen to be the ones to take my virginity.
But when my father wasn’t around, my mother would teach me how to properly take care of them.
“Power means nothing if no one chooses to stay,” She would brush my hair in the evening, long after the servants were gone. “Kenji, my sweet son, if you give your handmaidens freedom then they will serve you not because they are bound, but because they want to.”
Under her secret guidance, I gave them private quarters, free time, autonomy, choice. I made sure they had access to books, language tutors, music, and theater.
Listening to my mother, I never touched them. Besides, there were more than enough willing women for that anyway once I became an adult.
And in the end, my personal Scales, they would serve me to the end and even die for me. Granted. . .if they were ever harmed—if someone dared to touch a strand of their hair without my permission—I wouldn’t hunt that man.
I would erase his bloodline.
Yuki approached first head bowed. She was slender with her black hair twisted into a smooth knot. “We have the remaining items. May we finish preparing you for your meeting, sir?”
I nodded.
Yuki took her time with my dragon cufflinks, sliding them into place with ease. The gold cooled against my wrist. Each dragon’s mouth was open with a pearl locked in its jaw.
She adjusted the angle of one slightly. Her hands never shook. Her eyes never rose to mine. Once she was done, she stepped back and bowed low.
To my right, Mami stepped forward with the bottle of cologne. She misted it once at my throat, once at the edge of my jaw, and another beneath the open collar.
I inhaled slowly, letting the blend settle into me.
Then came the third—Hina.
She was the youngest but her hands were no less steady. She approached from behind and reached up to lift the starched white collar of my shirt. Her fingers smoothed the fabric, folding it into place. Next, she lifted the bow tie from a tray.