Page 12 of The Dragon 1
“Thank you, Zo-without-the-e.” Mr. Sato turned to me and then stepped into my space.
Only a few inches separated us.
Every nerve in my skin went on high alert. My lungs tightened, unsure whether to inhale or hold still.
But I did.
Breathed him in.
God, he smells good. . .
Smoked sandalwood and candied ginger.
Fiery and warm but sweet.
Wood left to smolder.
Sugar just starting to burn.
He consumed me with a single, profound inhale—slow and utterly devastating.
His eyes drifted shut as he leaned in—not quite touching yet the warmth of his breath slipped along my cheek.
Ummm. . .
And for one dizzying second, I swore adragonstood in front of me. A real one. Massive and ancient, with flared nostrils dragging in the scent of me and testing the air before baring its fangs.
I couldn’t move.
Didn’t dare breathe too deep.
I felt preyed upon in a way that didn’t make me want to run.
It made me want toburn.
Just when I thought he was going to open his eyes and step back, he fucking loudly inhaled again, even deeper.
It was a growl half-buried in his chest.
And I felt that sound.
Between my thighs.
In the base of my spine.
In the racing pulse behind my ears.
His lips parted, just barely, like he might speak—but nothing came.
Just heat.
Justwant.
Then he opened his eyes and the look in them pinned me to the floor.
Not with violence.
Not even lust.
