Page 116 of The Dragon 1

Will she say yes? Or would the voice of fear rise again—ancestral, earned, and loud?

She blinked slowly and looked at me.

I saw the struggle in her eyes. That flicker of doubt. The echo of every time her body had been guarded without wanting to be.

But, I also saw something else.

Hunger.

For control.

For power that didn’t require hardness.

For softness that didn’t mean surrendering everything.

She bit her lip, just barely.

I almost groaned.

The waitress bowed again and stepped away.

The chef left too.

The food was exquisite—perfectly plated, warm, ephemeral—but I didn’t lift my chopsticks.

Not yet.

Instead, I leaned in slightly and let my voice dip low, just for her. "You don't have to decide tonight, Tora."

Her gaze sharpened.

"But when you do. . .”

She said nothing but her breath hitched.

I will wait.

For as long as she needed.

Becausewhenshe said yes—not if—but when—I already knew I would fall to my knees without hesitation.

And I would thank her for the privilege with my mouth, my tongue, my cock.

Nyomi finally picked up her chopsticks.

She didn’t look at me. Just leaned forward and pinched a delicate slice of tuna belly. Its fat shimmered under a drizzle of citrus ponzu.

She brought it to her mouth, paused, then took the bite.

A low moan escaped her lips.

She closed her eyes.

Chewed slowly.

Swallowed.

Then gave the softest, breathiest exhale—like the food had touched something holy inside her.