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)
That’s what Kenji was now.
Beautiful and terrifying.
Restrained only by choice.
Hiroko’s voice echoed in my head.
“When a dragon kneels, he owns the floor.”
He hadn’t knelt yet.
Which meant I hadn’t truly won anything.
His fists flexed once more, those hands looking big enough to snap bone and tender enough to cradle me too.
He hadn’t touched me but I already felt claimed.
Worshipped.
Marked.
That made my nipples ache even more, made the slit in my bodysuit feel like a live wire brushing my wet heat.
He was obeying.
But he hadn’t submitted.
My voice came out low, “remove your jacket.”
His nostrils flared but he obeyed.
He slipped it off slowly, eyes never leaving mine, the stretch of fabric over muscle so erotic I almost gasped. He folded it once and then let it fall to the floor.
I took him in.
The stretch of white fabric over muscle was so erotic I almost gasped. The broad roll of his shoulders, the flex of his arms beneath that white shirt. . .it made my mouth water.
I could see now that even though I was in the dominant position, I would be battling with restraint too. . .because I wanted him naked.
Now.
I wanted to rip that shirt off with my teeth. Claw through it with my nails. Mount him like the filthy beast he was and make him beg through every tremble.
Mmmm.
I stepped forward, lips parting, tongue flicking out instinctively.
His hands began to rise to touch me.
No, Kenji.
I stopped a foot in front of him.
You cannot touch.
He sneered as if he heard me but then he lowered his hands.
And that simple act was everything.
Good job.
I closed the distance slowly, keeping eye contact the whole way, letting him see what I was about to do.
Towering over me, he looked down.
His chest rose in slow drags.
Then he inhaled me and groaned.
I raised my hands between us and reached for the silk of his tie. He tensed beneath my fingers, his breath catching the way mine had earlier. Slow and sensual, I slid the silk free. Each inch uncoiled.
His jaw flexed.
His eyes remained dark and hungry.
But I wasn’t done.
Instead of pulling the tie off, I leaned in and looped the tie around his neck—twice.
His chest stopped moving.
I pulled gently.
Tightening the knot.
His lips parted in stunned silence and I leaned in, letting my breath fan over the hollow of his throat.
Then I pulled again.
Not hard.
Just enough.
Just a little choke for a few seconds.
Just enough to remind him who held the leash now.
His eyes slammed shut. A soft, hoarse sound escaped his lips—half pain, half pleasure.
And then I let the tie open and unravel.
He gasped for breath.
Sharp.
Broken.
Lust-sick.
He panted. “I want you so fucking bad.”
My pussy throbbed.
I cocked my head like I had all the time in the world. “Only good little Dragons get to lick.”
He groaned like he’d been stabbed in the chest with want. His entire body trembled, just once.
But he didn’t touch.
Didn’t move.
He just looked down at me—ravaged, restrained, worshipful.
And waiting.
Exactly how I liked him.
I slid the tie away and dropped it to the floor. “Where are your Eyes? They should be here because I’m most definitely going to fuck you.”
“My Eyes don’t need to see this.”
“See you beg?”
“No,” a wicked smirk spread across his face. “See you cum.”
Mmmm.
“Little Dragon, you’re going to make me cum?”
“Fuck yes, I am. . .queen.”
He didn’t move.
Didn’t touch.
Just stood there, breathing harder now, his fists trembling at his sides as if every part of him wanted to lunge forward and fuck me until the floor cracked and shattered under us.
That made me wetter than anything else.
I whispered. “Say it again.”
His gaze locked to mine. “I’m going to make you cum, queen.”
“Good, little Dragon.”
His lids hung heavy.
I tilted my head. “But you’re going to earn it.”
“I will.”
“I know you will, and you don’t get to cum until I say so.”
He growled under his breath.
I smiled because this Dragon—this killer, this king, this dark fucking legend—was unraveling at my feet.
My fingers moved to the top button of his shirt.
Slowly, I undid it. Then the next and next. Each pop of the button sounded with a snap of tension between us and revealed more of his chest and then. . .
Oh. . .my. . .God. . .
Chapter forty-three
To Serve, To Kneel, To Burn
Nyomi
His body. . .it was about to ruin my whole calm position.
The more I undid his shirt the more skin, the more muscle, the more ink. Deep black lines. Dark red. Fascinated; I kept on unbuttoning that shirt just to see it all. The fabric parted wider.
Dragons coiled across his chest—massive, vicious, royal. Their scales shimmered with dark red detail, so lifelike they looked wet.
Alive.
Hungry.
Their claws dug into flesh that stretched over solid muscle and their mouths opened in eternal snarls.
The red ink bled into the black, bold and visceral like it had been drawn straight from the veins of his enemies.
There were more than dragons. A hydra was wrapped around his ribs. A full-bodied oni demon writhed on one shoulder. A katana inked into the side of his abs, positioned so that it pointed downward to his groin like a secret threat.