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)
I opened my mouth, but the words died on my tongue.
He leaned in again, raised his hand to my face and the soft drag of his knuckles trailed the underside of my jaw. “No woman, no situation, no history will ever disrespect you. I would fucking harm myself before I harmed you.”
The words hit me like a storm—fierce, wild, and unrelenting.
He ghosted his lips over mine, not quite kissing, just letting the promise of it linger like a curse. “And after this dinner. . .after we smile, toast, and pretend to be civilized? I’m going to talk to your pussy too. So she also understands.”
A soft moan left me.
His hand slid behind my neck. “I’m going to kneel in front of your pussy and I’m going to fucking devour you until the only word you remember is mine.”
His mouth crushed against my lips before I could speak. It wasn’t a kiss—it was a possession. A claiming. The kind of kiss that blurred worlds and bent gods.
His tongue swept in deep, demanding a reaction, an answer, a moan he could pull from my throat and wear like a trophy.
And I gave it to him.
Because I couldn’t not do it.
I fucking melted into him, one hand gripping his suit lapel, the other tangled in his silken hair. His body pressed against mine like a man starved. Like he’d been waiting for centuries to taste me and was now making up for every missed second.
There was no pretense.
No performance.
Just hunger, heat, and the quiet, devastating sound of me surrendering.
He pulled back just enough to let me breathe, and his eyes went dark with lust. “You’re mine now, Tora. Say it.”
I didn’t hesitate. “I’m yours.”
His smile was wicked and holy all at once. “Good. Because I plan to make sure you never forget it.”
Then he kissed me again, but this time Hiroko’s voice cut through the tension like a blade through silk. “Nyomi!”
I froze.
Oh shit.
The sound of her voice told me that she was right next to us.
Kenji pulled back and exhaled slowly. “Hiroko.”
His hand lingered for one more second on me before moving it away. Then he looked at Hiroko with all the regal coolness of a man used to being interrupted only by gods. “Do you need to speak to your pupil?”
“Yes, I do.”
“Now?”
“Yes, Kenji. Now.”
Sighing, Kenji gave a faint nod. “Then by all means.”
Holy shit.
I knew I was in trouble because my panties were soaking wet and I was damn sure ready to bounce on his cock right there.
Chapter thirty-four
Coaching from the Sidelines
Nyomi
This date had become a whole lot—seduction, power exchange, hoe suites, twins, and the fucking Dragon making my pussy shiver like he’d already fucked it.
Holy fuck. I thought I was prepared for this night, but I wasn’t.
Slowly, I rose, my legs unsteady beneath the red leather. The high slit suddenly felt too sharp, too revealing. The Dragon had curled around me, and now I had to figure out how to breathe without turning into ash.
I turned to face Hiroko.
And there it was—the most disapproving expression I’d ever seen on another woman’s face. She didn’t even need to speak. Her eyes said everything. Stern. Sharp. Regal. Like I’d just committed a crime against the entire sisterhood by letting that man kiss me like he owned my mouth, my body, my damned birth certificate.
Her jaw was tight.
One brow slightly raised.
And her arms were folded in a way that screamed, I have been training you better than this.
I wanted to shrink. Or laugh. Or apologize. But I just stood there like a teenager who got caught sneaking a boy in after curfew.
And just like that, the heat in my body turned into something cooler.
Sharper.
Purposeful.
I lifted my chin.
Hiroko turned around and walked off.
Shit. Shit. Shit.
I followed Hiroko, aware of Kenji’s gaze burning across my back the entire time. His stare was a tether, invisible but undeniable, dragging over my spine like a threat and an erotic promise all at once.
Hiroko didn’t say a word.
She just walked and led me out of the room, through a gilded archway, and into a private hallway lit with antique sconces.
Then she stopped.
Turned.
Closed the door behind us with a loud click.
And when she faced me, the transformation was immediate.
Gone was the poised club queen, the playful sadist. What stared back at me now was something older, deadlier, and infinitely more personal.
Less dominatrix.
More maternal assassin.
Her gaze sliced clean through the haze of lust still clinging to me. “You lost yourself.”
“I did.”
“You lost yourself from words, touch, and a kiss. Is that all you’re worth now?”
That landed harder than a slap.
Because she was right.
For a moment—just one—I had been willing to let all my boundaries bleed for that man. I had gotten swept up. Silken words. Hard lusty promises. That kiss that rewrote every rule I thought I had.
But I didn’t look away.