Page 48 of The Dragon 2 (Tokyo Empire #2)

Chapter forty-four

The Dragon Crawls

Kenji

Nyomi sat on that throne, radiating power the way other women wore perfume.

She was a crowned deity. Cape gone. Body wrapped in leather and sin.

Her thighs parted in erotic, mind-numbing prophecy.

Red light caressed her dark brown skin. Her pussy glistened above the throne’s open seat—wet and pulsing with need.

She was power incarnate.

A vision too dangerous to touch.

A flame too holy to survive.

And me?

I slowly crawled to her.

What would they say if they saw me now? What would they whisper when they thought I couldn't hear?

The Dragon on his knees. . .when the most psychotic killers wept and knelt before me, begging for mercy.

When Japan was my bloodied throne.

The last time I crawled was five years ago, in a Shinjuku bathhouse littered with dead bodies. Blood and guts on tile. Steam thick with screams.

I’d been shot in both legs, barely breathing, blood pooling behind me. Still, I crawled toward a gasping Yuma—my father’s rival. The last fool who thought the Dragon could be executed.

My fingers wrapped around a shard of broken tile. Jagged. Warm from blood.

I didn’t even think.

I just crawled.

I could barely breathe, yet when I had reached him, I drove that jagged tile into his chest and carved until his ribs cracked open.

I dug through cartilage, muscle, and veins.

I ripped his heart out with both hands while it was still fucking beating.

Held it high like a relic. Let steam rise from it while his blood painted my skin.

Hiro appeared on my side and laughed with blood still drying on his face.

Reo arrived, wounded too. He helped me up without a word.

Together, my Fangs and Claws got me to the car. I still hadn’t let go of that heart. Not until we made it to the hospital. Not until I passed out.

That was the last time I crawled.

But now?

Now I was on my knees again—no gunshot wounds, no blood trail behind me, no hunger for death and vengeance on my tongue.

Just my cock, so hard it ached.

Just my breath, shallow and broken.

Just my Tiger Queen—legs parted, pussy wet, eyes blazing with sovereign power.

And this time, the heart I would rip out and offer wouldn’t come from a corpse.It would be mine—beating, willing, and hers to destroy.

Moment by moment, my knees pressed against the marble. My palms slid against the stone. My spine curled, head down, not in shame but in devotion. Every shift of my weight sent a bolt of pressure to my hard cock.

The knees of my designer slacks were ruined.

It didn’t matter.

For one reckless, blinding second, I almost abandoned the crawl. The Dragon inside me bared its teeth, snarling at the leash.

Ragged thoughts blazed in my head.

I could take her. Right now. Lift her up. Flip that throne, tear that red leather outfit off her, and fuck her pussy raw until she screamed my name like a curse and a blessing.

I trembled with lust.

No one could stop me. Not her. Not Reo. Not my Eyes or Fangs. Not even Hiroko.

And if I wanted to ruin Nyomi—to make her mine the way monsters did, to fuck her until she broke and rebuilt around my cock—I could.

God help me, I could.

But I didn’t.

Because she didn’t need chains to bind me.

Just her eyes.

Her voice.

Her power.

And I also could not forget that my beast was willing to kneel for her, craving to submit to this. . .Tiger Queen.

I continued on.

This scent hit me halfway across the floor. Not just ripe plum and black amber—but her pussy.

Her heat.

Her wetness.

The intoxicating alchemy that lived between her thighs.

I groaned, low and primal. My cock—already hard beyond pain—pressed against my zipper, leaking with every crawl forward. The pre-cum spilled down my shaft, sticky and hot against my boxer briefs—my surrender in liquid confession.

I kept crawling.

I watched the slow throb of her arousal with each inch forward. Every flex of my knee brought me closer to madness. My fingers ached to grab her thighs. My mouth begged to taste.

Pleasure clawed at the inside of my gut.

I’d been called many things in my life—the Dragon, the Tokyo Executioner, the Fox’s Weapon, Monster—but never good little Dragon .

How had I become her dragon on a leash?

And how could I make this moment last forever?

So close. I’m so fucking close now.

My breathing grew more ragged. The scent of her pussy enveloped me, wrapping around my face like the first breath of oxygen after drowning in ash.

Three feet away.

Two feet.

One.

And then, I was there.

My nose hovered inches from the opening between her thighs.

I stared.

Her pussy lips parted like the gates of heaven, kissed by heat and danger. Flushed and dripping with desire. Her thighs were thick and soft.

Her scent was the most divine sin.

My eyes fluttered.

My chest caved.

My lips parted in maddening anticipation—ready to kneel, to taste, to fall like a kingdom undone.

She looked down at me—a queen surveying her property.

My palms burned against the marble. My knees ached. My cock throbbed with every inch forward.

And she just watched.

Not with pity.

Not with mercy.

Just with pure ownership.

Her thigh shifted. Leather creaked. And then she spread her legs even wider.

Oh fuck. . .

This dark groan left me, vibrating up from my chest and shattering out of my throat.

I was right there—knees bruised, spine bowed, breath ragged—close enough to taste the heat pulsing off her pussy. My head was lowered but my eyes burned upward, catching the shine between her thighs.

Every part of me screamed to rise. To grip her hips, slam her down onto that throne and fuck her until the walls echoed with the sound of skin on skin and the collapse of her control.

I could do it.

But I didn’t move.

I didn’t rise.

I stayed kneeling, muscles trembling with restraint, teeth clenched against the lusty, hungry beast snarling beneath my skin.

I remained on the floor because she’d earned my submission. Because her power wasn’t fragile—it was erotically lethal. Kneeling for her felt more like conquering the ecstasy within myself and. . .I wanted to know more. . .

Yet, I couldn’t help but wonder. . .was I weak for kneeling? Or had I finally become the kind of monster who wanted to be tamed?

Then I caught it. . .her fingers twitched on the armrest—just once, barely visible but enough. Her breath hitched too and I knew it wasn’t from her dominance.

It was from her craving me too.

She’s submitting just as much as I am. She just doesn’t know it yet.

Her sexy voice left those full lips. “I am pleased.”

Those three words hit me harder than any blow, gutted me more thoroughly than any blade. Three simple words that echoed louder than any roar of victory, any echo of satisfaction I'd ever felt on my bloodied throne. I was high on it—the pleasure in her voice, the approval, the gratification.

Mmmm.

My head swam at her praise. It was a dizzying mix of relief and adrenaline. My cock gave a violent throb against my briefs in response.

Now what? Will she let me eat her pussy? Will she let me fuck her? Will I finally get to have my Tiger in every way I please?