Page 53 of The Dragon 2 (Tokyo Empire #2)

Chapter forty-eight

Aching Surrender

Nyomi

His voice cracked. “Tora.”

My heart boomed in my ears.

He lifted his head and his eyes were wild. Sweat rolled down his temple.

And that look. . .

It was devotion.

It was obsession.

It was awe.

It was danger.

When he spoke, I realized that his voice had changed too and it wasn’t a drop in pitch. It was a drop in temperature.

The tone I’d come to crave—warm, sensual, teasing—cooled into something darker, lower, honed like a blade that had tasted too much blood and knew the cut before it made it. “I’m going to put you down now, Tora.”

The muscles in his arms tensed as he held me against the wall as even releasing me required restraint. His cock had gone soft, but his presence had grown sharper.

Bigger.

The Dragon had returned. “And Tora. . .I want you to put that cape back on as quickly as possible, but please stay in this room. Okay?”

“O-okay.” I nodded fast. “D-do you think we’re in danger?”

“No, Tora.” His eyes didn’t blink. “Right now I’m the most dangerous man in this fucking building.”

Fear filled my chest.

He didn’t release me right away. Instead, he kissed me, and it was fierce, slow, and almost final like a lover preparing to walk into war. His lips dangerously claimed mine, and I kissed him back like I didn’t care who he had to kill.

I unwrapped my legs from around him and my heels touched the floor.

He lowered me gently. The moment he stepped back, a different man looked at me. For a breathless second, the light shifted in the space. And I swear—behind him, cast on the wall—was the shadow of a dragon. Not a man. Not Kenji. A beast that was seething and monstrous. Wings. Horns. Smoke.

I blinked and it was gone, but I still felt it in my bones. The man in front of me was now the Dragon from the office many days ago, the beast I had seen when I first entered and met him.

He sneered. “I will be right back.”

“Okay, but. . .” My hands shook. “Maybe you should check to make sure you should go out or see if everything is okay. I know you are you but—”

“Everything will be fine.” He stormed across the room, muscles taut beneath golden skin.

“How do you know?”

“Because men would have already been in here by now, if it wasn’t.” He grabbed his pants and quickly put them on. “My people are efficient.”

“So. . .whatever the threat was. . .it’s gone?”

“Hopefully not completely.”

“What?”

He didn’t even look at me as he yanked up his pants and zipped them. “Someone has to pay for disrupting our date, Tora.”

I gulped.

He was going to kill someone or a lot of someones.

Is this my life now?

I didn’t even have time to think too deeply about it. My instincts screamed to move, to be ready, to get the hell out of here. I bent slightly, trying to take off my heels, bracing for chaos.

His voice sliced across the space like a whip. “Don’t take off those heels.”

I looked up.

He sneered. “Keep them on. . .please.”

“Kenji,” I kept my tone steady. “If we have to run, I can’t do it in heels—”

“Run?” He quirked his brows. “Who?”

“I’m just saying—”

“No one’s going to make us run, Tora.” He buttoned his pants, turned back toward the door, and stormed off. “Please keep the heels on. . .Queen.”

And with that, he got to the door, walked out, and quietly shut it behind him.

I stood there breathless, trembling in heels slick with arousal, legs still unsteady from being fucked against the wall. And my pussy was very. . .very. . .sore. Like. . .it would be uncomfortable walking sore.

What the fuck is he going to do?

The Dragon was gone.

But his fury lingered.

So did his heat.

And somewhere beyond that door. . .men were going to die. . .

With my aching pussy, I stumbled toward the throne, picked up the cape, and covered myself with it.

What the hell is going on?

It was all insanity, but I did everything I could to keep myself calm. If I were going to be with Kenji Sato. . .this would be my life now.

Gunshots.

Screams.

The scent of blood.

And a man who could fuck me with devotion and then slit throats ten minutes later without blinking.

Closing the cape around me, I sat on the edge of the throne—not elegantly or with any of the power I had claimed earlier. I was raw, tender, still wet between my thighs, and trembling in ways I wasn’t ready to unpack.

Could I really do this? Be with a man this dangerous?

Could I love someone who wore death like a second skin?

Could I get used to the taste of gunpowder in the air while I still had his kiss on my lips?

I didn’t know. I really didn’t. But I also knew I wasn’t going anywhere either. Not because I was brave, but because I was his and maybe that terrified me most of all.

I ran my fingers over my thighs, where bruises from his grip would soon bloom. And I didn’t flinch.

I welcomed them.

I relished in the ache he had left in my pussy. I savored the burn in my calves from holding myself so tightly around him.

I was still pulsing inside and my heart was booming, open, and wanting more.

Fuck. . .I dominated him, but he damned sure dominated me too. . .and. . .I want us both to do it to each other again and again until we have no idea who is in control. Meanwhile. . .he may be killing someone on the other side of the door. . .and I don’t want to run away.

This couldn’t have been healthy. It surely wasn’t smart, but it was honest. And, if I were being really honest with myself. . .maybe I’d been made for this.

I wasn’t raised by saints. My mother had loved a man in a suit who ruled a courtroom by day and ran darkness by night. A judge with a God complex and a wallet fat from bribes.

He told the world he stood for the law.

He told my mother and me he stood for God and family.

But behind closed doors, he took orders from the Italian mob, ordered hits, and had girls—young ones—brought to the back of clubs under fake names to do nasty things to him.

He was a wicked man that wore the mask of a saint.

Kenji didn’t wear masks. He wore ink, danger, and a truth so sharp it could slit throats just from him saying it. With me, he had never pretended to be anything other than what he was. And somehow, that made me feel safer.

That was why I wouldn’t run.

This reasoning alone stunned me.

I was the sort of woman who trusted no one. Who read contracts three times and smiled with her mouth closed because too many people had taken my joy and used it against me.

Yet, he made me feel so safe I didn’t even have to question myself.

Outside of the door, a man howled in horror, but that voice didn’t belong to Kenji.

Did the Dragon do that?

I hugged myself.

Yes. . .this is my life. . .

The man screamed some more.

It terrified me but. . .even now, as I heard a body fall right outside that door, I planned to stay on this throne and wait for Kenji because. . .I was his queen.

I’ve lost my mind and I don’t care.

The screaming stopped too suddenly.

My breath caught.

Heavy footsteps approached the door.

Too heavy.

Too slow.

Too unfamiliar.

My blood ran cold. . .because those weren’t Kenji’s steps.