The Dragon 1 – Tokyo Empire Read Online Kenya Wright

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Crime, Dark, Erotic Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 64
Estimated words: 66993 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 335(@200wpm)___ 268(@250wpm)___ 223(@300wpm)
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“Kenji—”

“I’m not done,” his voice dropped into a darker tone. “I say that. . .not just because I’m growing possessive of you, but because my Fangs are weapons, not men. If they become attached to you, they become vulnerable. I don’t let my weapons rust.”

O-kay. . .

“I understand,” I said, even though I wasn’t sure I did completely. “But, I’ll still probably smile at them. I can’t help it. Kaoru’s hair is just. . .so pink. It’s adorable.”

That earned another chuckle from Kenji, this one slightly defeated.

I leaned my head to the side, “what’s so funny?”

He put the cup of sake down as if giving up on drinking it. “If you knew the things Kaoru would do to my enemies. . .adorable would not come to your mind.”

“What would come?”

“Nightmares.”

I widened my eyes. “Oh.”

“You’re trouble, Tora,” he reached forward and took my hand. His thumb stroked lightly across the back of it.

Mmmm.

Then, his thumb began to trace slow, mesmerizing circles across the back of my hand—soft, controlled, and devastating.

It was a whisper of pressure.

A tease of warmth.

And just like that, every nerve in my body woke up.

I tried to keep still. To act unaffected… it was no use. That one touch sent a hum low through my belly, tightening my thighs beneath the table and sending my pulse into a chaotic rhythm.

I bit the inside of my cheek. I wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of seeing how easily he could undo me.

But he already knew.

The way his gaze darkened. The way his fingers shifted—now gliding along the ridge of my knuckles, now dragging slightly along the sensitive skin between them.

He was watching and reading me. Learning what made me shiver. What made my breath catch. What made my thighs squeeze tighter under the silk of my dress.

“You’re very quiet now,” he whispered. “What happened to the woman who scolded me like a queen and challenged me like a tiger?”

“She’s. . .” I swallowed. “She’s regrouping.”

He chuckled. That sound came out deep and smooth like it belonged in a low-lit jazz bar or a bedroom filled with smoke and sex. It slid down my spine and pooled between my legs.

His thumb shifted again.

Now he was caressing the inside of my wrist, where the skin thinned and my pulse betrayed me. Every pass of his thumb was a stroke against the most vulnerable part of me. And it felt like he knew it.

His hand was big, warm, and firm. Just holding mine made me feel small in a way I didn’t hate.

Not diminished.

Not erased.

Instead, cradled and claimed.

“Tora. . .do you like when I touch you?”

It took everything in me to not lick my lips, “yes.”

“I want to touch you all night. . .and everywhere. . .”

I damn near shuddered with lust, “but you’re going to pace yourself.”

“Mmmm. That’s right.”

I bit my bottom lip.

“Just tell me one thing.”

I quirked my brows. “What?”

“Are you wet for me?”

My breath caught.

The words should have been crass to me but they felt so intimate.

A wicked smirk spread across his face. “Are you going to answer me, little Tiger?”

“I’m not.”

“So naughty,.” he brought my hand closer, slowly pulling it toward him and then his lips hovered just over my knuckles. “Do you know what you’re doing to me?”

His breath was warm against my skin.

“No,” I shivered, yearning for him to kiss my hand. “What am I doing to you?”

“Hmmm… I guess I’ll keep that a secret too.”

Yet. . .I could see it all over his face.

The man who could end lives with a glance suddenly looked like he wanted to worship me instead.

Slowly, he pressed his lips to my hand—one kiss.

Just one.

But I felt it everywhere.

Between my legs.

Across my breasts.

At the base of my throat.

Then, his mouth moved lower, to the inside of my wrist. That tender place pulsing like a war drum.

He kissed there too.

Slower.

Hotter.

Groaning, he let his teeth scrape gently along the skin.

A moan threatened to break free from my lips. I had to grit my teeth to keep it from coming out. His touch was a smoldering flame on my skin, and I ached for more. But instead of pressing further, he gently placed my hand back on my side.

“Naughty Tora,” his eyes were hooded as he sat back in his chair.

Just as the air between us turned molten, a soft rustling interrupted—bare feet against stone, the whisper of silk gliding through night.

A young woman in a pale lavender kimono approached the table with her hands folded neatly in front of her. Her hair was coiled in a smooth bun held by pins shaped like flowers.

Behind her, followed a man in crisp chef whites, older, with silver dusting his temples and a quiet nobility in the way he moved. He bowed first, spine straight, eyes polite.

“Welcome,” he said in perfect English.

Kenji nodded once. “You may begin.”


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