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)
He grunted.
Good. He’s dangerous, but he’s mine too.
I didn’t meet his eyes. Just slid the belt out of the loops and let it drop.
The clang when it hit the marble made my heart jump.
It made him jump too.
Just a little.
A twitch of his thigh.
I stepped back, needing air. Because fuck, he was so much. His presence. His heat. The weight of being worshipped this hard by a creature born of violence and crowned by blood.
He was still standing.
Still looming.
Still watching me like I was the storm he wanted to get struck by.
For a flicker of a moment—I almost backed down.
Almost.
But I'd gone too damned far to retreat.
Okay. Let’s see.
I looked up at him with a hard gaze and no smile or softness. “Kneel.”
His eyes didn’t flare.
He didn’t hesitate.
He just dropped down to the floor like he’d trained for it. And sure. . .his legs were folded in but they were also positioned in a way that gave him the ability to leap forward and tear a man’s throat out if I whispered attack.
His spine stayed straight, chest out, head high, but his hands. . .those rough, beautiful hands rested on his thighs with terrifying calm.
The silence between us swelled.
The Dragon had bowed.
And not just bowed. . .he obeyed.
And yet. . .
It wasn’t a kneel of submission.
It was a warrior’s rest.
Like he could still kill for me.
Like he still might.
Like he would get up off this floor if he damn well pleased and fuck me into submission.
But that was the beauty of it.
The danger of it.
The ecstasy of it.
Because he’d chosen to drop for me. Not out of fear. Not out of weakness. But because his hunger demanded it.
Yeah. I’m staying in Tokyo.
I kept my expression neutral and whispered, “Good, little Dragon.”
His moan was guttural and laced with ache. Deep enough to quake the floor.
Still, he didn’t move.
Didn’t break.
Didn’t speak.
He just. . .burned.
I love this. It feels so fucking good.
But Hiroko hadn’t warned me about this specific addictive part. She’d prepped me on how to dominate. How to hold my power with grace. How to make a dragon kneel. But she hadn’t told me what it would do to me when he actually did it. When a man like Kenji—six-foot-two of stone, blood, and violent legend—chose the floor.
Standing there, I realized something that rattled me more than any moan or growl could.
He still had the real power, not because he commanded it but because he gave it. And that made it all the more dangerous. All the more addicting.
He had made himself the gift and then placed it at my feet, wrapped in muscle and ink.
God help me; I wanted that gift. I wanted to unwrap every dark, snarling inch of him until I found the softest, most sacred part he never let anyone touch—and then I craved touching it so gently he forgot his own name.
Hiroko had taught me how to command yet she hadn’t warned me that this—his silence, his restraint, his obedience—would tame me too. Would turn my dominance into devotion. Would make me want to earn his submission like a prize I never knew I needed.
Because here was the truth; The Dom may direct the scene but the sub defines its power.
And Kenji Sato?
He was defining the fuck out of this moment—without saying a single word.
My hands trembled at my sides but I didn’t let it show.
He watched me.
I stepped back and then slowly, I opened the cape.
His gaze lifted. He watched the black fabric slither down my shoulders, across my back, grazing my thighs, and then dropping to the floor.
I stood there, bared to him. Bodysuit clinging to my curves. Garter straps hugging my thighs. Skin glowing with heat.
His pupils dilated until there was no brown left—just black, blown wide and hungry.
His mouth parted.
Then. . .his body wavered.
Just a tremble.
Just a twitch of his arms.
And then he started to rise from the marble floor.
Oh fuck.
I frowned.
He caught my disapproval, then slowly lowered again, and bowed his head.
“Good Dragon.”
The dark growl that left him was so loud it made the walls vibrate.
I blinked.
His gaze went to my breasts and how they poked out of the cut outs. My nipples jutted through the air, stiff with arousal and chilled by desire.
I saw the moment he noticed.
The moment he locked on.
Kenji's lips parted. He licked them—once, then again. That greedy tongue flicked out like it could already taste me, like he didn’t know whether to worship or devour.
His breath faltered.
I just stood there, letting him take in the full weight of what he wanted but couldn’t have.
Not yet.
Alright. It’s time.
I turned around.
That low growl hit me square in the spine.
He was looking at my ass, I didn’t even need to glance back to confirm it. His hunger pulsed behind me like heat waves, staring at the high arc of my ass, the way the bodysuit vanished between my cheeks and exposed just enough to make a king forget his crown.