Page 42 of The Dragon 2 (Tokyo Empire #2)

Chapter thirty-eight

The Safe Word

Kenji

The macaroni still coated my tongue, heavy and warm. But that one sentence Nyomi had said— We need a safe word —had cracked something open in me I didn’t even know I’d sealed.

A safe word.

That meant exactly what I thought it meant. She wasn’t teasing anymore. This wasn’t a kiss. Or even the taste of her pussy. This was surrender and reckoning.

This would be deeper.

Bigger.

I stared at her across the table, the golden glow of candlelight flickering over her collarbones. Her red leather gown clung to her like it’d been poured on, and her curls framed her face like a halo.

She was not only the fucking end of me but the beginning too.

She was ready to wear the crown and sit beside me on the throne.

She just had no fucking idea.

My cock throbbed again—more exhausted than hard—but still pulsing like it needed her to understand. Like it had one last prayer.

My body had already been humming from the meal, from the scent of her skin—black amber and ripe plum—and from the way her voice dipped every time she teased me.

But now there was something else curling behind my ribs.

Fear.

I’d fantasized about BDSM before. Plenty of times. Ever since I walked in on my father choking his mistress in his study while she came all over his hand. She’d looked like she was flying, shaking, and sobbing with bliss.

And my father—so cold, so cruel—had looked proud. Like he owned every sound in that room.

Years later, there was Lya in that villa in Spain. Older than me. Sexually merciless. Silk in her hands, rope around my throat, riding me like I was hers to break. She straddled me and rode me slowly with the rope around my neck, pressing just slightly more with every movement.

I hadn’t cum from the friction of her pussy. I came because she thoroughly owned me.

Lya left a mark, not on my skin, but on the part of me I’d kept sealed—soft, hidden, and starving.

I’d buried that part of myself for years. I became the Dragon. I learned to dominate, to control.

But now, staring at Nyomi, I felt it again.

That hunger.

That ache to be owned .

She might be the first woman I ever wanted to kneel for. To let devour me. And somehow, the only one I wanted to build a life with. To give not just my body—but my fucking heart.

A safe word. Mmmm.

Nyomi lifted her glass and sipped her water like she hadn’t just changed my entire fucking life.

“Tora. . .” I forced myself to cut another bite of oxtail. “Are you going to tell me what the surprise is?”

“I’m not.”

I ate the oxtail and swallowed. “I am going insane over here. At least give me a hint.”

“I already did.”

“A safe word isn’t a hint. It’s a warning.”

She grinned.

I stabbed a candied yam and took a bite the bourbon butter was thick on my tongue. “What are you going to do to me, Tora?”

“What am I going to do?” She leaned forward. “Whatever I want.”

My cock twitched again.

Fuck yeah.

The clink of glass pulled me from the heat simmering behind my eyes.

The waitresses returned, each holding a tray with narrow-stemmed crystal glasses. The liquid inside shimmered gold.

They placed the drinks in front of us and bowed.

When they left, I picked up my glass.

“This is a black card-only cognac,” she lifted it. “Limited barrel, hand-poured in France. It’s blended with saffron, black fig, and a whisper of tobacco and honeycomb.”

“And how did you remember all of that?”

“This happens to be the only thing that my father and I both like,” She winked.

“Interesting. Now you’re seducing me through liquor also.”

“Is it working?”

“Yes.” I took a sip.

The rich liquid hit my tongue like a silk glove lined with brass knuckles—smooth, warm, then sharp right at the throat. The warmth lingered, spreading heat into my chest.

I nodded. “This may be as dangerous as you.”

She lifted her own glass. “Cheers to danger.”

“Yes. Cheers to danger,” I drank again, watching the way her fingers cradled her glass, the red leather of her corset pushing up her breasts just enough to make every breath look like a power play whether she intended on that or not.

The food between us was still glowing under the ambient lighting.

Between sips, I let her food ruin me bite by bite.

Her cooking was sex—slow, indulgent, and meant to be savored.

I groaned through every bite—tender oxtail, sharp cheddar, pasta dripping with cream. Even the fucking food had the nerve to seduce me. Candied yams. Greens laced with smoked turkey. Bourbon on my tongue. Her scent in the air.

She’d crafted this night like a seduction spell and I was halfway to binding my soul to her with every fucking bite.

She spoke again and this time her voice was soft but firm. “Kenji, I am serious about that safe word.”

My fork paused halfway to my mouth.

I met her gaze. “I would never need one with you.”

“You would.”

“You’re the only person I would trust to rip me apart.”

“That’s beautiful but it’s not about trust. It’s about clarity and communication.”

“I’ll give you all the clarity you want, Tora,” I picked up my glass again. “Just don’t stop doing whatever it is you’re planning.”

She smiled—but didn’t back down. “Then trust me when I say this; even someone like you needs boundaries.”

I wasn’t used to being spoken to like this. Not by women I fucked. Not by anyone. But somehow, her words didn’t feel like weakness. They felt like truth with teeth.

“Yes. You are the Dragon, but you are still human especially when you’re kneeling.”

My cock twitched. “You think I’ll kneel tonight?”

“I think you want to be my good little Dragon, and good little Dragons kneel for their mistress.”

Did she say mistress? Fuck!

The next sip I took was sharper and still her words went down harder than the liquor. I didn’t know if I wanted to fuck Nyomi or fall to my knees and ask her to rewrite every rule I’d ever lived by.

“And if we do this more than once,” she added. “I need to know your limits. And you need to know mine.”

Stubborn, I grinned, just to keep my pride intact. “I have no limits with you.”

Then, I took a sip.

“Oh really?” She tilted her head and a few curls brushed her shoulder. “So, you would be fine with me sliding the handle of a whip into your ass?”

I choked on the liquor. It was a full body jolt. A cough burst from my chest as I set the glass down hard.

She just raised an eyebrow and sipped her drink like she hadn’t just detonated a landmine under the table.

I cleared my throat. “Alright. Perhaps. . .we do need a safe word.”

She beamed. “Thank you.”

“What are you thinking?”

She shrugged. “Mercy?”

“Tora, I’m not the kind of man who begs for mercy in front of a naked woman, even if she’s got a whip in one hand and her foot on my neck. There’s something within my brain that wouldn’t let me.”

“So you would die before saying mercy?”

“Basically.”

She laughed—full, rich, and bright. “Fine. How about. . .exit.”

“I don’t like exit.”

“Why not?”

“I’m not going anywhere, and neither are you.”

She blinked.

I took another sip of my drink.

“It could be a food you like or hate. Garlic, onion.”

“Hmmm.” I took another slow sip of the drink and her scent hit me again—black amber and ripe plum.

Then it came to me.

I set the glass down. “ Ume .”

“That’s Japanese?”

I nodded slowly. “It means ‘plum.’”

“Aww.”

“It of course reminds me of your scent. Ripe. Sweet. But sharp beneath the skin. The kind of fruit that bruises beautifully.”

She held my gaze.

“And the word itself. . . ume . It’s delicate. Feminine. But old. Resilient. Plum blossoms bloom in the dead of winter—when everything else is too afraid to rise. That’s what you feel like when I kiss you, something sacred, soft, sweet, yet strong.”

Her lips parted just slightly and then she whispered. “ Ume . That’s beautiful.”

“Could it be too beautiful for a safe word?”

“No. I think there’s beauty in telling someone to stop and knowing without a doubt that they will because they never want to hurt you.”

My heart ached. “Then, that is our safe word.”

She placed her hands on the table. “And in addition to ume , we’ll use the traffic light system too.”

“The what?”

“So. . .apparently this is simple, but effective—especially in scenes that may involve pain, power, or psychological edge play.”

I widened my eyes.

She said it like she was listing ingredients for chamomile tea—not ways to dismantle a man’s soul.

But I blinked and my mouth went dry as my cock pulsed under the table.

A scene? Pain? Power? Mind-fucking edge play?

She wasn’t preparing me for pleasure. She was preparing to burn me clean.

And then I saw it.

Her standing over me in some shadow-drenched room, dressed in black leather and gold rings, a riding crop dangling from her fingers.

I saw myself on my knees, bare, sweating, head bowed while she walked slow circles around me.

I imagined her whispering things I wasn’t ready to hear.

She’s going to shatter everything I thought I knew about myself.

I straightened in my seat. “Explain the. . .traffic system.”

“It’s just like regular traffic lights. During your. . .surprise, I will do a quick check with you. So, for example, if you say green that would mean keep going. Everything is good.”

What? How much time has Hiroko had with her?

I turned in my seat and glanced at Hiroko. She had been watching in the shadows and had the biggest smirk on her face.

Hmmm.

Surely, Hiroko was proud.

Nyomi owned this dinner like a seasoned queen.

I faced my Tiger.

She continued, “yellow means slow down or check in. Something might be off or need adjusting. And red means stop. Immediately. No questions. No arguments.”

I exhaled through my nose. “So even the Dragon needs to learn the color wheel now?”

“Yes. Because even the Dragon needs to be protected when he flies too close to the sun.”

Mmmm.

I wanted her badly. And not just sexually. I wanted her intellect. Her ruthlessness. Her care. Her command. I wanted to be better under her hands.

I nodded once. “Understood.”

The waitresses returned, clearing the plates and bowing as they swept away the last of the dirtied forks and empty crystal glasses.

The scent of smoke and sugar still lingered.

When they were gone, I looked at Nyomi, waiting for the rest of this incredible night.

What will happen next? Will it be the dessert along with a surprise? Or something else entirely? Something I am not prepared for.