Page 50 of The Dragon 2 (Tokyo Empire #2)

Chapter forty-six

The Queen and Her Good Little Dragon

Nyomi

I didn’t know how I was still breathing.

I didn’t know how I was still pretending.

Because inside—I was ruined.

Shaking.

And the problem?

He hadn’t even fucking touched me with his wet tongue yet.

Every nerve in me was lit. And every time I looked down at his cock—thick, smooth, leaking—I lost another piece of my mind. The rose-shaped piercing glinted in the red light, gorgeous and vicious.

I thought his cock was pretty in the photo, but now?

Now, I wanted to own it.

Taste it.

Slide it so deep inside me the petals bruised my soul.

And that scared me. Because I understood him now. I understood the obsession that he had with me because I was becoming obsessed with him.

I was now understanding his need to claim me because I damn sure yearned to claim him.

It was all in me now. . .the madness of wanting to be the only one in his bed. In fact, I couldn’t even imagine any other woman touching him.

I might kill her, and I wasn’t even about that life, but I might. . .

And even crazier. . .Kenji looked so good beneath my pussy I almost forgot how to speak several goddamn times.

Holy shit.

The Dragon lay sprawled on the cold marble, his inked muscled body half-shadowed beneath the queening throne.

His eyes burned up at me with worship and sacred hunger.

Sacred and savage.

And his mouth. . .so close to my pussy, just inches from my wet heat.

And I sat above him, trembling despite the power, because this was the moment where everything in our dynamic would shift.

Hiroko’s words hit me right when she had showed me the queening throne.

She pointed to her assistants. “Hurry. The Dragon won’t be eating that dessert for too long.”

Her two assistants knelt on either side of the queening throne, quickly wiping the legs and plush red cushions with a solution Hiroko swore by. One buffed the gold arms. The other adjusted the velvet seat until every angle looked clean and royal.

I was finally dressed and putting the cape on.

“Good. Yes.” Hiroko circled the throne like a priestess inspecting an altar. "Now Nyomi, when he kneels under you, it’s not just sex. You’re stepping into a power ritual. An exotic choice that could deepen your relationship."

The servants finished, bowed, and then left without a word.

She turned to me. "With a man like the Dragon. . ."

Her head tilted.

A flicker of something passed through her eyes.

Admiration.

Maybe warning.

"I can only imagine his oral skills." She shook her head. "Understand this. He will dominate you from the bottom. There is no other way to say it."

My breath caught. "Can I stop that?"

Her eyes met mine, soft and sharp all at once. "Why would you want to stop his shattering you as you shatter him? It is beautiful. And your pleasure and orgasm is just as important as his."

She stepped closer. "Especially with a man like Kenji. Submission isn't weakness. It's a strategy."

She touched the throne's armrest gently. "And you, my dear? Are not just a queen. You're a storm he can't outrun. So. . .get wet too and let the wind blow through your hair as you moan."

I returned to the moment and looked down at him, really feeling like a queen riding a wild beast, one breath away from losing control.

But I couldn’t show it.

Not now.

I tapped the base of the ostrich-feather wand against the side of the throne. I almost didn’t say the words that I was supposed to say. My throat tightened. My breath caught between power and terror.

What if giving him this, opened something in me I couldn’t ever close again?

But the throne beneath me was warm now. Our scents of hunger were already in the air. And the Dragon was waiting.

I can’t stop now. It’s too late for us both.

Shivering in desire, I tightened my grip on the feathered wand and let those words fall from my lips. “Beg to lick me.”

His eyes flared.

I know, Kenji. No one talks to you like that, but. . .get used to it.

He didn’t speak. His jaw flexed. A muscle twitched near his temple. I could see the war in his eyes. It was all possessive, untamed, and savage.

I let the silence stretch.

The tension between us was thick with more than lust—it held that unbearable tightrope between control and surrender, restraint and desperation.

I needed to know how far he would go. Needed to feel that truth crawl from his throat like it would destroy him not to obey me. This wasn’t about dominance anymore. Not really. It was about knowing that he would kneel for no one else. That his cock, his mouth, his hunger—all of it belonged to me.

And I. . .belonged to him too.

His nostrils flared. Jaw clenched. For a breath, he looked like he might disobey.

But then I saw it—his eyes softened.

A single breath escaped his lips as they parted.

His chest rose.

And then, the voice that came out of him was so raw it unraveled me. "Please, Queen."

Oh fuck. . .

"I want to taste your pussy.” He groaned. “Let me taste it. Let me bury my face in your pussy and stay there. Let me lose myself in your scent. Your wetness. Your power. Please."

My grip on the feather trembled.

I exhaled, hard.

I was not prepared for what it would feel like to make a man like Kenji beg. Not just beg—but strip himself of titles, menace, myth. And offer me nothing but obedience.

He looked beautiful like that.

Dangerous and undone.

So high off of this new drug, I shivered. "Again."

“Again?”

“Beg.”

He blinked. "Please, Queen. Please let me taste your pussy. My cock is hard for it. I’m lost without your permission. I need to worship you with my tongue. I want to serve you so well you forget every other man that even looked at your body. Let me. Please."

My thighs tensed.

A sharp ache bloomed in my chest, spreading downward.

I was unraveling.

And I hated it.

Because I still wanted more.

I leaned forward and brushed the feather wand across my own thigh, trailing it higher until it brushed against my slit. I was soaked. I could feel the heat rising off me in waves.

He groaned.

"You can lick," I whispered. "But you don’t come up from under this throne until I cum."

"Yes, Queen." The first brush of his tongue on my pussy wasn’t frantic.

It was so sensual and slow. The way a devout man might touch sacred ground and thank the Gods for the ability to do so. Slowly, he kissed my folds like he knew they held his future, his ruin, and his rebirth.

I gasped—not just from sensation, but from how it made me feel.

Worshipped.

Possessed.

Made whole.

And then he moved differently and became a sudden blur of movement. His lips found their way to my most intimate spot. The first touch of his tongue was hot and dangerously skilled like he had spent his life learning how to eat pussy.

That tongue was a slow, heavy stroke that sent shivers down my spine.

He drew his tongue with sensual perfection from the very base of my core, tracing a warm path upward until he reached the sensitive peak of my clit.

“Oh!” I breathed out in a sharp gasp, my back instinctively arching in response to the pleasure that surged through me.

Groaning, he continued with another tantalizing lick, and then another, each one building a symphony of sensation that resonated through every nerve.

Each stroke of his tongue erased my past lovers.

My rules.

My common sense.

He was rewriting my body’s memory with every circle, kiss, and suck.

And just when I thought he would take a break, his tongue danced expertly, swirling in teasing circles, flicking with playful intent, and bestowing gentle kisses upon my eager flesh.

“Oh, Kenji!!!”

That was when he stopped, licked his lips, and looked up at me. “No, Queen.”

Devastated, I stared down at him, panting. “N-no? What?”

“Please don’t call me Kenji. I’m your good little Dragon.”

I parted my lips in shock.

“Say it.”

I shivered. “You’re my good little Dragon.”

A loud growl left him and he devoured me.

Fuck. Hiroko was right. He is dominating me from the bottom.

His mouth opened wide as if he were starving. Moaning into me. Groaning like every taste cracked his spine. I could barely keep my eyes open.

The feather wand slipped from my fingers and landed in slow motion.

A silent surrender.

A white flag waving over the battlefield between my thighs.

He had won.

“Oh!” My hand flew to the velvet armrest.

Soon I was no longer in control, it was all him.

I found myself instinctively moving against his tongue, riding the exquisite waves of ecstasy that his skilled mouth was conjuring. “Oh! Oh! G-good little Dragon!”

He captured my clit between his lips, drawing it in with a fervor that resonated with a deep, primal moan from within his chest. The vibration coursed through me, eliciting a cry that echoed around us.

He must have known the turmoil he was causing within me, the delicious torment that left me breathless and yearning.

Perhaps that was why he continued, relentless and with no fucking mercy.

Holy fuck!

I thought Hiroko had properly warned me, but she hadn’t even come close.

This was a fucking rollercoaster ride that I could not get off.

His tongue danced in intricate, swirling patterns, while his fingers pressed into my thighs with a possessive grip from below.

The throne between us creaked.

My pussy throbbed with a rhythmic pulse as my entire being dissolved into heat, flame, and ash.

“Oh! Oh!” I clung to the arms of the throne, needing something to anchor me as he claimed me with the exquisite mastery of his mouth.

Tears spilled from the corners of my eyes. Not from pain. From how fucking seen I felt. Like he was tasting every part of me no one had ever touched—the grief, the glory, the mess. All of it.

This wasn’t a submissive servant.

This was a man reclaiming his right to possess me with every stroke of his tongue.

And I let him.

His mouth moved lower, tongue spearing inside my pussy.

My hands flew to my breasts, squeezing my nipples, trying to ground myself in the onslaught of pleasure and losing. "Oh my god, Dragon. . .fuck. . .fuck!"

He grunted. A pleased sound. Proud of himself. And then he returned to my clit, fast now, feral.

“G-good. . .little. . .D-dragon!”

His next groan was deep, guttural—like pleasure was pain and pain was devotion. Like tasting me hurt him in the most beautiful way.

Next, I felt something break.

Maybe it was my pride.

Maybe it was my fear.

Maybe it was the last part of me that didn’t believe I could be loved this way.

And then. . .I shattered with a scream that didn’t sound human. My vision went white. My legs jerked. My body roared to life. My mind blanked.

Somewhere in the haze, I realized I hadn’t just said his name, I had loudly moaned it like a great declaration to the world. “Kenji!!!”

My hips bucked up hard.

I was sobbing, I think, or laughing—something between them.

The orgasm tore through me.

I didn’t come—I was taken.

And the whole time I rode the pleasure, he slowed his devouring. His tongues strokes became more gentle now. He was now a dragon lapping up water as the world burned around him.

Licking and savoring the aftermath.

Drawing out my trembles with each press of his tongue.

Stunned, I looked down through the carved hole of the throne and saw his eyes—glassy, wide, reverent.

He pulled back to breathe, and I saw it. My wetness shining on his mouth, his chin. The red imprint of my thighs on his cheeks. I marked him—and he looked grateful for the scar.

My body was still shaking.

And in that moment, we weren’t playing roles anymore. We were just two broken things holding on through pleasure, through power, through everything we couldn’t say.

I didn’t feel victorious.

I felt fabulously undone.

His mouth had broken me open and poured something new inside.

Something terrifying.

Something permanent.

And I would never be the same again.

He licked his lips and groaned. “Now it’s my turn to order, and your turn to obey.”

What?