Page 67 of The Dragon 2

The room was still.

Then Hina, the youngest, braver than the rest, tilted her head just slightly and murmured beneath her breath. “Even if you never touch what belongs to you?”

Yuki’s breath caught.

Mami blinked once as if unsure whether to smile or freeze.

My eyes met Hina’s in the mirror’s reflection. She didn’t look away yet a blush rose on her cheeks.

“Even if I never touch,” I gave a single nod. “Remember, although you three belong to me, that does not mean you cannot be lovingly touched byothers. They would just need your consent and my approval.”

“Of course, sir.” Yuki’s hands lingered just a moment too long on my cuffs. When she stepped back, she kept her head down, but her cheeks grew flushed.

Mami’s gaze flicked to my lips. Her breath caught and her fingers trembled just slightly as she adjusted the bottle on the tray.

Hina dared one final glance in the mirror and then looked to the floor, “I understand, sir.”

A knock disrupted the moment.

The scent of steel entered before my men did.

Reo walked in all quiet elegance—sharp suit, darker intent. Mami shifted, breath catching just slightly, as if his silence brushed the back of her neck.

Their reaction to him always amused me. Even my Scales—trained for composure, forged in elegance—grew a little too graceful when Reo walked in. Too aware of how close he passed, too precise in how they breathed.

When Reo passed behind Yuki, she lowered her eyes but not fast enough—I saw the way her lips parted, like she'd just caught the scent of something forbidden.

Holding in my chuckle, I nodded at them. “You three may leave.”

They bowed and hurried away.

Hina’s hand brushed Reo’s sleeve by accident and she whispered an apology like it was a confession. He just gave her a playful wink and let the moment coil between them like silk on skin.

Next came my Fangs, lethal, donning suits, and armed beneath every seam.

Then Hiro entered. My brother. He stepped inside flanked by his Claws. They looked alert and dangerous as usual, but Hiro. . .

Damn it.

Hiro appeared untouched by rest. Eyes rimmed with exhaustion. Jaw locked. Hands fisted at his sides. His hair was slicked back in an afterthought. His suit was clean and new, but wrinkled, something he would have never normally allow.

He hadn’t slept.

I knew this because I had tried to help him go to sleep by having one of the top Parisian girls sent to him. A trained seductress, she went to his suite, stripped him of his clothes, climbed into his lap, and bounced on his cock like I’d instructed.

I knew this because her moans had reached even my door—wild and high, echoing through the suite hallway.

She left satisfied.

Hiro?

Probably. . .not so much.

The guards said they spotted him on his balcony, sucking on a lollipop and staring at the Parisian skyline as if considering jumping off the edge.

So, I tried something else.

I sent a man to his room. This one had been skilled in sucking a man’s cock to perfection. Again, the hallway filled with sounds, not my brother’s but the man’s loud groaning. Surely, Hiro had showed the man a thing or two.