Page 207 of The Dragon 2

Tora. . .whatever waits at the top of these stairs. . .I'll take it. Bind me. Burn me. Feed me your pussy.

With every step I ascended, I swear I was shedding a layer of my old self.

More portraits came and they were more extreme.

A Chinese woman in a crimson cheongsam stood poised with a braided leather whip at her side. Behind her, a man hung from silk suspension ropes, his wrists tied above him, ankles bound wide, and eyes glassy with submission.

I swallowed.

The next showed a towering Black beauty with bronzed skin and coiled hair with one boot pressed gently to a white man’s throat.He lay flat beneath her on a bed of dark furs, arms folded behind his back, and his mouth parted in awe.

That’s when it hit me.

These stairs weren’t just a path to her.

They were mental preparation.

Was the staircase supposed to strip my armor?

Surely, I was right because by the time I reached the top, I wasn’t walking like a king.

I was hungry, delirious, and aching.

I was a man ready to kneel and beg.

Because I wanted Nyomi so fucking bad. I craved her mouth, her body, her pussy, and her fucking nails dragging across my chest.

Oh, Tora. This night. . .it will be my undoing.

I walked out of the stairwell and spotted Reo and my two Eyes—Arata and Itsuki—waiting by a large red door.

What is this?

Protocol was that Reo would’ve vanished by now. My Roar was built for strategy and endgames. Besides confirming security precautions for my dates, he didn’t interfere with desire.

I already knew Reo had that under control because I’d felt the presence of my Fangs all night. They’d been in the shadows of the dining area, silent and hidden. Now, I felt them on this upper floor within the shadowed corners. My Fangs wouldn’t interfere with the date unless someone pulled a weapon and tried to kill me.

But what was more off was the fact that my Eyes were not already in place of what Reo liked to call the Intimacy Location.

They’d guarded me while I fucked.

Behind Reo, Arata and Itsuki stood like shadows carved from black jade, still breathing, but barely.

No one was born into that role.

It had to be earned through many years of loyalty.

Once the position was given, the men were marked.

I’d been there the night they took their oath and let the ink burn under their skin.

Each of them had the same kanji tattooed at the outer corner of their eyes.

?

A thin black stroke etched so close to the lash line it looked like war paint. It didn’t just meansee.For the rest of their lives,they had to be watchful and unflinching in devotion. It meant: You see what I can’t. It meant:;You never blink when the blade is coming. It meant; You die before I fall.

I stopped in front of Reo who no longer wore the sunglasses but still had that wicked smirk on his face.