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)
From just seeing her, some pressure eased in my chest. Not all of it, but enough to remind me I could breathe better now.
And then something caught my attention, I looked down and saw two leather cuffs anchored to the black stone lip of the tub.
What?
I peered at the water. Gold hooks shimmered deep in the water. There were two of them at the bottom of the tub.
But why? Are those handcuffs? Or metal straps? Is she going to. . .strap me into the tub? Bind me somehow in the water?
My mouth went dry. A new tightness pressed the old tightness lower. My mind—filled with plans, contingencies, and strategies—went quiet.
I had spent the last hours deciding which streets would catch fire first, which men would eat and which would starve, who got to hold their child tonight and who would possibly leave a widow later this week.
I contemplated all the ways to find my brother and father and rip their fucking heads off.
I’d had to be the Dragon.
The monster.
The cruel violent beast.
But in here. . .in this bathroom. . .my Tiger meant to put me in water, strip the scales from my skin, dampen the fire, and remind me I was still a man made of flesh and bone. A man with a heart that could be soothed.
Here, in this heat and candle-glow, where petals drifted and lavender wrote poetic words in the air, I was just a body that belonged to her.
Oh, Tora. . .
The peace that hit me wasn’t gentle. It slammed through my ribs, giving me full mercy.
I let out a long breath finally feeling like I could fully breathe.
I stared at those leather cuffs anchored to the tub and more tightness uncoiled from my chest.
I lifted my view to her. “You’ve been busy.”
She turned slowly, and the robe shifted on her shoulders. “I have.”
I should have been focused on the bathroom and her surprise, but I still had the question of her departure weighing heavy on my mind. “Why did you leave my war room?”
“You declared me the Dragon’s Heart.” She blinked as if still shocked by that reveal. “Then. . .you began to slice off a man’s ear and. . .I was close to vomiting so. . .I didn’t want to show my fear and my inability to keep it together. Not in front of all your men. Not after that big declaration.”
“They would have understood.”
“Kiko is right. I am an outsider, but that doesn’t mean I have to stay that way. I can learn. I can adapt. I can hold it together long enough to not vomit all over your war room floor.”
Her explanation settled in my chest like a diamond finding its setting.
She understood. Without me telling her, she’d read the air, measured the room, and decided to walk away before giving the Scales something new to gnaw on.
She protected her position and mine. That was the sort of move the Scales respected, the sort of move I respected.
Granted, I wouldn’t have thought her weak.
But the gossip would have been different tonight. It would have spread like smoke through the island. The Scales would’ve talked about how the Dragon’s Heart turned pale in the war room, how she couldn’t stand the blood, how maybe she wasn’t made for this world after all.
Instead, she’d left them with nothing but the memory of her standing tall and looking absolutely sexy. High regard intact. Untouchable. And then the last memory of her walking away, confident and clicking gunshots in the air.
My body hummed.
I loved her for that.
Needing to have her mouth against mine, I headed over.
She held her hand up. “No. Stay right there.”
I paused. “Why would I ever do that?”
She gestured to the tub. “Do you want to see how deep the rabbit hole goes?”
“I do.”
“Then there will be rules.”
“Rules? I’m not sure about that. I want to hurt your pussy.”
“Hurt it later.” She parted the robe, and with a shrug so simple it split the world, that plum silk slithered down and puddled around her feet.
A dark groan left me.
She was naked.
Steam clung and slid, finding every curve and hollow, making her skin look kissed by invisible mouths. Candlelight filmed her in molten gold, glazing her hips, her collarbones, the deep line between her breasts.
My sanity took a step backward.
Her nipples stood tight and dark brown against the cooler air beyond the steam, a shade deeper than the swell of her breasts, the kind of stiff peaks a man wanted to warm with his mouth until they stiffened against his tongue.
The curve of her stomach led down to the perfect, upside-down triangle trimmed close and neat between her thighs, the dark hair catching tiny drops of water until they glittered like they’d been jeweled for me.
Her legs—long, smooth, strong—set slightly apart in a stance that wasn’t shy. The angle gave me the faintest glimpse of the darker, secret flesh between, a sight that had my cock swelling so fast it ached.