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)
Is this your plan to get back control, Tora? To hold me at a distance? To make me hunger across the space?
I leaned forward slightly, my muscles tightening.
It won’t work. Not the way you think.
I quirked a brow. “Why are you over there?”
She said nothing, and somehow, the silence was louder than any answer.
It threw me off balance.
“Tora.”
She leaned just slightly toward me. “So. . .let's talk about tonight's dinner.”
“Let’s, but not yet.” I rose to my feet, reached for my chair, and began to pick it up.
But then she spoke again, “Sit down.”
I snapped my view to her.
Who is she talking to like that?
She watched me with a neutral expression. Her tone had not been harsh or loud, but it was final. It didn’t threaten. It owned.
I paused with the chair heavy in my hand.
Is she commanding me?
I tested it and took another step forward.
She said nothing. Just stared at me with that fucking goddess silence.
So. . .is she. . .okay with me coming over to her now?
Still holding the chair, I took another step.
“A good Dragon does what he is told so that he can get dessert and a delicious surprise afterwards.” Then she licked her bottom lip.
Slow.
Wet.
Sensual.
I stood there like an idiot with the chair in my hand and my mind unraveling.
Mmmm.
My body screamed to move forward. My pride screamed to resist. My heart said don’t go too far. Meanwhile, my cock throbbed at the word surprise.
Fuck me.
The air thickened.
My cock twitched.
I didn’t like this.
Correction.
I didn’t want to like this.
But I did.
“Tora.” I swallowed and narrowed my eyes. “What is the. . .surprise?”
She said nothing.
Just smirked.
And somehow. . .that was worse than any threat she could have whispered. Worse than if she had screamed. Her silence was honey-laced steel. It wrapped around my throat, pressed into my ribs, and tightened like a velvet noose.
I stood there with the chair in my hand like a fool—a man undone by a woman who hadn't even touched him.
And in that moment, I felt it.
The war inside me.
The Dragon wanted to step forward. To drop the chair, grab her by the jaw, kiss her until she whimpered, and remind her—you don’t leash fire, you worship it.
But then there was the other part.
The part watching her lips.
The part clocking the unbothered way she leaned back in her chair, fully aware of what she’d just done. She wasn’t bluffing. She wasn’t role-playing. That glint in her eye told me everything.
Damn it.
If I moved any closer, she’d take it all away.
The dessert.
The surprise.
The reward my body was burning for.
Just to prove she could.
Just to make me fucking learn.
And fuck me, I would learn that hard lesson, because that kind of cruelty—that sharp, sensual discipline—was so damn intoxicating I could barely stand under it.
I looked at her and time slowed.
Hmmm.
I shifted my grip on the chair, stared at her, then glanced at the mystery trays on the table, and then put my view back on her.
My pride howled, yet my cock throbbed.
I sneered. “Okay.”
She watched me.
“I will sit over here.” I set the chair back down. “For now.”
She remained silent.
“However. . .remember this.” I pointed at her. “If you end up making me beg tonight, I will make you scream later.”
She widened her eyes for one second, caught herself, and then returned to that conquering energy. The transition was quick, but it was enough to let me know that I’d scared her pussy.
Good. You should be terrified.
I sat down and glanced to the right.
Deep within the shadows, I caught Hiroko beaming.
Yes. Yes. You won this round, but don’t get comfortable. . .I’m either tied with you or I’m still winning.
The only question was. . .would I continue to win or would it be my Tiger for the victory.
Chapter thirty-seven
Nirvana
Kenji
The band’s melody swirled around us into this indulgent jazz, suspending time and making the piano notes ripple.
My Tiger made me sit down.
If Hiro had seen it, he’d be cackling through his lollipop and would never let me live it down.
Most women would've strutted after that—cocky with victory, drunk on the power of making the Dragon obey. They would’ve smirked, flaunted it, twisted the moment into a crown.
But not Nyomi.
She didn’t gloat.
She remained humble.
I couldn’t understand why, but her calm response pushed me into a sense of awe. It wrecked me more than any swagger ever could.
But why?
Most people used respect like currency. They took it to get something.
Most women didn’t just crawl into my bed for cock. They came for the kingdom. They wanted power by proximity, wanted to sit beside me on the throne and feel the burn of my fire without getting scorched.
Even Kiko—my most trusted Ear and the one who might be carrying my twins—had delivered that news like she wanted more than a father for her children. It was clear she would expect a crown.