Total pages in book: 160
Estimated words: 161615 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 808(@200wpm)___ 646(@250wpm)___ 539(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 161615 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 808(@200wpm)___ 646(@250wpm)___ 539(@300wpm)
“Oh Fuck.”
“I’m going to fuck you all over this island.” I drove into her harder.
Deeper.
“I’m going to fuck you all over your new plane too.”
“Oh, baby.”
“So wet. So tight. So perfect.” My mouth found the other side of her neck and I bit down again, right next to an old mark.
Not as deep this time.
Just enough to bruise.
Just enough to make her scream. "KENJI!"
Her walls fluttered around my cock, and I felt the telltale clench of her approaching orgasm. She was close. So fucking close. The pain was pushing her there faster than pleasure alone ever could.
That's my Tiger. Taking everything I give her. Even the parts that hurt.
I released the second bite and kissed my way back to her mouth, letting her taste her own blood on my lips.
She moaned into the kiss, her tongue chasing the copper, and the depravity of it made my balls tighten.
"Cum for me," I commanded against her mouth. "Cum on my cock while you taste yourself on my tongue."
Her body obeyed before her mind could catch up.
The orgasm crashed through her like a wave—violent, overwhelming, devastating. Her back arched so hard I thought she might break. Her nails carved bloody furrows down my spine. Her scream filled the room, bouncing off the walls, drowning out every ghost that had followed me from that prison.
And I followed her over the edge. My release tore through me with savage intensity, spilling into her in hot, pulsing waves.
Soon you’ll be having my baby.
I buried my face in her neck—in the wound I'd made, in the blood still seeping warm against my lips—and let myself fall apart inside her.
For one perfect, shattered moment, there was nothing else.
No burning flesh.
No screaming traitors.
No thirty new names on a death list.
Just her.
Just us.
Just the taste of blood and the smell of sex and the sound of our ragged breathing filling the darkness.
When I finally lifted my head, she was looking at me with an expression I couldn't quite name.
Wonder, maybe.
Or devastation.
Or love so fierce it bordered on madness.
I couldn’t even speak anymore, and I damned sure didn’t pull out of her perfect pussy. I lay against her, closed my eyes, and let the rhythm of her pulse lull me further toward peace.
The blood on my lips was drying.
The wounds on her neck would need cleaning soon.
But for now—for this one stolen moment—I let myself rest in the arms of the woman who had saved me.
Tomorrow, the traps for the Fox would be laid out.
Tomorrow, thirty already imprisoned snakes would burn.
But tonight, the Dragon would sleep peacefully beside his Tiger queen.
Epilogue
Fucking through the Pain
Hiro
For the first time in weeks, I slept.
Not the shallow, restless half-sleep that had plagued me since Nura's death.
Not the fitful tossing that ended with her smile burned into my eyelids and my father's laughter echoing through my skull.
Real sleep.
Deep.
Relaxing.
Dreamless at first.
The prison and Kenji’s torturing should have followed me into sleep.
Sako’s and Mami’s screams.
The smell of their burning flesh.
Arata's mother reaching for sons who couldn't save her.
But my mind, starving for something other than death, found a different way of coping instead.
I stood in my brother's bedroom back in Tokyo. The room was bathed in candlelight. Shadows danced across the walls like living things.
I was positioned near the door with my back straight and my hands clasped in front of me like one of the Cum Guards.
And I watched like them too.
Kenji lay on the massive bed, his body stretched out like a king on his throne. His tattoos rippled with each breath, dragons and flames alive on his skin. His head was thrown back against the pillows, his jaw clenched, his hands gripping Nyomi’s ass.
She straddled him, her body rising and falling in a rhythm that made my mouth go dry. Her skin gleamed with sweat, dark brown and beautiful in the flickering candlelight.
She was magnificent.
A goddess riding a dragon.
I couldn't look away.
Didn't want to.
My gaze traced the curve of her spine, the flare of her hips, the way her thighs gripped my brother's waist like she was afraid he might disappear.
Her head fell back, exposing the column of her throat, and I saw the marks there—fresh bite wounds, still brownish-red, evidence of my brother’s savage hunger.
He claimed her tonight.
Marked her.
Made her bleed.
The thought should have made me look away.
Instead, my heart warmed.
I never understood this part of me.
Not fully.
Every time I caught myself watching Kenji like this—his body moving, breath rough, tattoos alive under candlelight—I’d feel something warm uncoil in my chest.
Something almost peaceful.
Something I wasn’t supposed to feel in moments like these.
Comfort.
That was the confusing part.
Comfort didn’t belong here.
Comfort didn’t belong anywhere near the things I’d been taught to fear.
But there it was anyway.
Soft.
Low.
Warm.
Why did watching him with a woman soothe something in me that nothing else could touch?
I tried to trace the feeling back—unravel it, peel the layers like skin off a fruit.