Total pages in book: 100
Estimated words: 101427 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 507(@200wpm)___ 406(@250wpm)___ 338(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 101427 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 507(@200wpm)___ 406(@250wpm)___ 338(@300wpm)
She loudly huffed.
Then came the thump of determined footsteps.
The pregnant woman—maybe-baby mama—marched in like she was storming Versailles. Her blush pink silk dress clung to every curve, her pearl-strap slippers clicked with purpose, and her expression was pure thundercloud.
Every man in the war room stood a little straighter.
A few exchanged glances.
Even the ones with guns.
Kenji didn’t move.
Neither did I.
But Hiro had pulled out a wrapper, wrapped it around his lollipop, and tucked it in his pocket. Then, he muttered to the Claws. “Two queens. One crown. Should we get popcorn. . .or body bags?”
The Claws snickered.
I watched her walk up.
Alright. Let’s see what’s truly going on.
Chapter twenty-five
The Cock-Hard Edge of Restraint
Kenji
I was going to hurt my Tiger’s pussy.
Make it throb.
Make it tremble.
Make it so raw and swollen, she would forget her own name and beg me to remind her who she belonged to. She would wear the ache like a crown. It would be my mark, my proof, my ruinous reward.
And when she finally stood to leave my bed, my cum would still be dripping down her thighs—a trail of obedience no one could ignore.
No one could touch.
No one could ever erase.
Nyomi walked into my war room like she owned the fucking air. Shoulders back. Chin high. That skirt hugging her hips like it was scared to let go.
And just like that. . .every head turned and even the ones that shouldn’t have. Over two hundred of my Scales—men trained to resist torture, to aim through gunfire, to slit throats without blinking—forgot who they were.
Their discipline?
Gone.
Their breathing?
Shaky.
Their focus?
Fucked.
Nyomi entered, and they fell apart like amateurs at a goddamn burlesque show. And for that alone. . .I would ruin her.
Punish that pussy with every brutal inch of my cock.
Slow.
Deep.
Cruel.
I would stretch that sweet, wet cunt until she begged. Until the echo of her own moans humiliated her. Until she couldn’t sit on her throne without remembering who she belonged to.
Because that fucking walk.
That smooth sway of her hips.
Too timed.
Too confident.
She knew what she was doing. She knew who was watching. And still, she held her chin up like a queen.
The sheer blouse and the way it clung to her breasts. The lace bra that I could see from my desk as she got closer. The pencil skirt. The flash of thigh from the slit high enough to stir earthquakes.
But it was the stilettos that destroyed me.
Red.
Sleek.
Razor sharp.
So fucking dangerous.
They clicked out gunshots in my war room and the sounds drilled into my skull, tightened my chest, and made my cock pulse behind my zipper.
Fuuuccckkkkk. . .
I clenched my jaw to keep from groaning out loud, but still the sound left me.
This is getting dangerous.
I shifted my weight, trying to ease the pressure growing within my pants.
Is she going to break me in front of everyone?
I was so goddamn rock hard.
Already leaking pre-cum.
Already planning to destroy her.
I was not minutes away, but seconds from losing control and even my cock knew who its queen was. If I stood up from this desk, all my men would know exactly how hard I was. They would see every hungry inch. Every brutal consequence of her walk.
If I took even one step toward her, my cock would tear through the seam.
And she hadn’t seen me yet.
Her gaze was still scanning the room.
But I saw her.
“Shit,” Hiro muttered, dragging the word out in a low rasp.
I glanced over to him.
He was leaning against the desk beside me, one brow raised, arms folded, and that stupid red lollipop in his mouth. He didn’t look at me. He just kept watching her. “She’s got every man in here cocked and loaded.”
Sneering, I returned my view to her and didn’t respond.
Didn’t blink.
Didn’t breathe.
Nyomi continued forward.
Hiro ran his fingers through his hair. “So. . .when are you ready to share her? Are you done just yet or you need a few more weeks?”
My jaw clenched.
“You know I like women with claws, the kind that scratches before it kisses.” Hiro bobbed his head. “And she looks like she has some serious claws.”
I kept my gaze on her. “I moved her into the house.”
“You did.”
“What does that tell you, brother?”
“That whatever is between her thighs is a very fucking good time.”
Nyomi still hadn’t seen me yet. But I knew she felt me watching. Her chin tilted ever so slightly. Her lips parted—barely. Just enough for me to imagine my cock fucking her mouth.
Glancing my brother’s way, I kept my voice low, but sharp enough to cut glass. “I will not be sharing my Tiger with anyone. I would kill them. Torture them first and then watch them slowly die.”
“Interesting.” Hiro raised his eyebrows and studied me. “This is new territory for you.”
Hiro wasn’t wrong.
This was new territory.
He and I had shared many things over the years.
Secrets.
Enemies.
Scars.
Women.
So many women.
Some we traded off with a nod, others we passed between us in bed like a bottle of sake—wet, willing, and forgettable.