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)
"Tell me, Tora. . .when you imagined my cock in your dream, did you happen to envision a piercing?"
“A piercing?”
And he—God help me—had purred. “Yes.”
I’d laughed. “No. . .do you. . .have one on your cock?”
“I do. And you’ll find your G-spot will like it very much.”
“I want to see it.”
Then he’d groaned. “Careful, Tora. You’ll have a hundred pictures of my cock sent to your phone before we even hang up.”
I’d laughed again.
And now, lying there with my phone still buzzing in my hand, I chuckled for real—one of those belly-deep, oh-girl-you-asked-for-this laughs. Because damn it, I really had to be careful with Kenji from now on.
The man didn’t bluff.
He didn’t tease.
The Dragon delivered.
He hadn’t even sent a thirsty bathroom pic.
No cluttered background.
No shadowed angles.
He had taken this photo intentionally. Like a man who knew the image of his cock would take root in my mind and live there rent-free until I saw him again.
Fuck. This man is no joke.
The lighting glinted off the gold rose. A bead of pre-cum glistened at the tip—caught between the petals like dew on a flower just after rain.
Oh my God.
I dragged my fingers across the screen.
Not to zoom.
Just to touch.
I whispered, “Nyomi, you’ve officially lost your mind.”
But I didn’t stop.
My eyes dropped lower, tracing the thick shaft, the veins that pulsed with restrained hunger, the way his skin was flushed with arousal but not desperate. Even in this rawness, he was in control.
Almost.
And somehow, that was worse.
Or better?
I wasn’t sure anymore.
I imagined kneeling in front of him, reaching out with one trembling hand, pressing my thumb to that gold rose and whispering. “Does it hurt?”
He’d probably growl, low and rough. “Not if you’re gentle, Tora.”
Gentle?
I’d be anything but.
My thighs clenched involuntarily, and I let out a shaky exhale.
This man is not safe.
I grinned.
He was a weapon of mass seduction and he had sent me the proof wrapped in gold and temptation. But beyond the shock and lust. . .was something deeper. Something that made my fingers pause on the screen.
Because only a man who had suffered would mark himself this way. Would adorn pain with beauty. Would carry a rose at the tip of his cock—not for vanity, but as a symbol of emotion buried in shadow.
I studied that piercing with less lust and more thought.
Perhaps, that rose wasn’t just about sex or power. That little gold bloom forged through the most sensitive part of a man’s body—pierced into flesh, where pain wasn’t just possible, it was guaranteed.
There was no way it was about shock value nor attention.
That rose was intimate.
Hidden.
Meant for someone worthy enough to see it.
To feel it.
And I realized something I hadn’t dared to wonder until now.
Wait a minute.
Maybe Kenji didn’t just want to dominate me. Perhaps, somewhere under all that power and fire and sharp-jawed ruthlessness. . .he wanted to be undone too.
On his knees.
In rope.
With my fingers curled in his hair and my voice telling him to beg.
He got hard from my dream. From the idea of me sitting on a throne, of him kneeling, mouth open and desperate. I didn’t think that was just regular arousal. It could be his desire for a kind of surrender. Not weakness—but a craving to trust someone enough to fall apart.
And that someone. . .might be me.
But can I do that?
I’d never been the one to lead like that. Not in bed. Not with men. I was the soft one. The sweet one. The one who gave and gave until I broke into pieces in my own damn hands.
But Kenji wasn’t asking for my softness.
I thought back to his note in the fantasy book he’d given me.
To the one who made me lose my breath.
—K
Call me crazy, but I was suddenly realizing that Kenji wanted heat, hunger, and someone who could scorch him back.
And God help me. . .I yearned to see what it felt like to take a man like that—to really take him.
Not just lie beneath his body.
But command him.
Direct him.
Break him open and make his cock sing for me.
And I had the feeling. . .he might beg me for that, too. And maybe, just maybe, he needed someone who could understand that.
My thumb hovered over the screen again. I wanted to send something back—something that said, I see you. That I wasn’t just shocked or aroused.
I was moved.
And that scared me most of all.
Because lust is easy.
Temporary.
Fleeting.
But this?
This was something else.
My pulse fluttered at my throat as I stared at the image again, and imagined all the ways that piercing could feel.
Against my clit.
Rubbing slow and deliberate as he pushed into my pussy.
Deep.
Smooth.
Patient.
Then rough.
Unforgiving.
Grinding that smooth metal right where I needed him most.
Oh fuck.
I squeezed my thighs tighter, biting my lip.
This was unfair.
He wasn’t even in the country, and I was already wrecked.
From a picture.
What would happen when it was real?