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 squared my shoulders. “I think toward the end. . .I caught myself.”
“You did not catch yourself. Are you aroused right now?”
I swallowed.
“Panties wet? Heart booming in your ears? Nipples so hard you can’t think?”
“I’m aroused. I’m wet. I’m trembling.” I bit my lip.
“Why?”
“His words. His touch. His heat.”
“Is that all your desire is worth?”
“No.”
Her eyes held mine like a grip to the chin. “Yet, you almost gave it away. Is that okay for you? Is that the life you choose to live? It’s fine if you want to be a woman that doesn’t know her worth, giggling just because a man smiles at her? Opening her legs because he gave her flowers or a token of nothing?”
I blinked.
“What happened, Nyomi?”
“He told me—”
“It doesn’t matter what he told you.”
I pursed my lips.
“Sure, Nyomi. The conversation appeared intense. I caught moments and saw you stand your ground, and then he overpowered you and took your heat, breath, softness—and for what? A kiss and the promise of his tongue? Is that the bargain you want to make with your body?”
Well damn.
She lifted her finger. “Understand this. . .my questions aren’t about shame. They are about sharpening your awareness.”
“I understand.”
“Your desire for him isn’t the problem. Your being desired by him isn’t the threat either. The danger is that you started forgetting that you held the match and you had the fire.”
I nodded, feeling like a player being reprimanded by their coach on the sidelines.
“He’s the Dragon.” She pointed to the door. “Of course he’s going to make your head spin. Of course, he is skilled with his tongue and whatever he is promising you with pleasure, understand that it will happen and the orgasm will probably be tenfold what you have experienced with any other man, because he is not a regular man.”
I widened my eyes.
“He is the Dragon after all.”
“O-kay.”
“However, you are you. And your softness is a weapon when wielded right. And your pleasure is not a weakness. It is a kingdom. No man—no matter how powerful, how precise, how perfectly obsessed—should be able to take that without your permission.”
I straightened my spine. “Alright. So. . .I tried to push him away, what should I have done?”
“What should you have done?” She sighed. “You should have owned the moment. Not resisted it. Not surrendered to it. Owned it.”
I frowned. “I thought pushing him in that moment was showing him he didn’t have control. Should I have leaned away or left the table.”
“Left the table?” She gave a small, amused breath. “You’re not a scared girl in a horror movie, Nyomi. You’re not supposed to run. You’re supposed to command. If you wanted space, you don’t push him back—you make him beg for another inch of you.”
“How do I do that?”
“Next time he steps in close, don’t shove. Don’t shrink. Look up at him. Unblinking. Say nothing. Let him feel the weight of your silence, your knowing, your restraint. Let him realize you are not prey. You are a goddess deciding whether to bless or burn him.”
I stared, heart pounding.
She touched her own throat gently. “Your voice is powerful. But so is your silence. Your breath. Your gaze. Your stillness. You have the power. That means every inch of your body—even your damned pulse—is a command if you choose it to be.”
“Okay.”
“Do you understand?”
“Yes.”
“You’ve been doing excellent, and you are moving fast. If he were a regular man I would have clapped for you and said congratulations, but he is the Dragon.” She snapped her fingers. “Catch up because he already has plans to trap you.”
“Yeah. He told me that he won’t let me leave Tokyo.”
She stared at me like I was crazy. “What? You thought you would be leaving Japan after this night?”
“Yes.”
“Why would you think that?” And for the first time, she laughed. “I am going to need a lot of alcohol this evening.”
I didn’t even want to unpack the not leaving Tokyo part just yet. I cleared my throat, and she stopped laughing. . .a little. “So. . .I want him and. . .I’m a bit horny.”
“You are more than a bit horny, Nyomi.”
“Well. . .if I want him tonight. . .? Like. . .want to kiss him or touch him. . .”
Her smile curved. “Then you take him. But you mark him first.”
I raised a brow. “Mark him?”
She leaned in like she was about to whisper a sacred rite. “You kiss him back harder. You tug his hair. You put your hand on his chest and feel his heart stutter under your palm—not to push him away, but to let him feel who owns it now. You take the pleasure, yes—but you let him know exactly who’s running the scene.”
“Okay.” I bobbed my head, finally understanding this power dynamic stuff even more.
“Remember. There is power in softness, yes. There is freedom in surrender, yes. But not if you forget who you are. Not if you forget the difference between being claimed—and being caged.”