Page 2 of The Dragon 2
Assassins moved to his rhythm.
Empires bowed to his silence.
When he gave the signal, cities bled.
He was a man with claws sharp enough to skin legacies, fangs built for ruin, and a roar that cracked the spines of other mafia kings.
Yet here he was. . .on his knees, lickingmypussy like a good little Dragon.
A man who had knelt for no one—not the government, not the police, not even his enemies—was now groaning against my pussy like I was the only god who had ever deserved his devotion.
At that moment, I was.
I knew my ancestors must have been smiling—no, cackling—in the background. Watching me take what had never been given to them.
A woman with my dark brown skin.
My thick, unapologetic curves.
My voice.
My bloodline.
We had always been expected to bow, serve, and tame ourselves into silence.
But not tonight.
In this moment, I was the thunder that cracked open the night sky.
He was all mine.
“Deeper,” I wrapped a thigh around his shoulder and dragged him closer. “Tongue-fuck me, Kenji.”
He growled low, his jaw shifting as he obeyed.
The moment his tongue plunged into me… I gasped. His hands—still tied behind him—tensed like he wanted to break free, grab my thighs, and crush me against his mouth but the rope kept him obedient.
Still. . .he dominated me from the bottom.
His submission wasn’t weakness.
It was control flipped inside out.
That made this all so goddamn erotically delicious.
Even bound.
Even silenced by my pussy, he was still a goddamn alpha.
Those ropes might’ve kept his arms pinned but nothing could tame the hunger in his mouth or the command in his eyes.
Each flick of his tongue was a challenge.
Every groan saidyou’re mine even if you’re sitting on the throne and I’m bound.
That was the part that wrecked me. Because it wasn’t just that I had him kneeling, it was that he wanted to be there.
Chose to be there.
