Page 206 of The Dragon 2
Black ink in old script stared back at me.
I read the two words.
COME UPSTAIRS.
A dark groan slipped out of me—low and filthy. Every cell in my body braced.
This was the next level.
This was the threshold.
And I was fucking ready to walk through it.
Yes, Tora. Now we are talking.
I rose from the table in one smooth motion, shoving the chair back with a scrape of wood and hunger.
No more pretending.
No more flirting.
No more waiting.
Just my cock a few seconds from being deep inside of her.
Chapter forty
The Case of the Bento Boxes
Kenji
I went through the door I’d seen Nyomi enter and climbed black glossy stairs. They spiraled upward in a slow almost hypnotic curve that forced me to pace myself.
Step by step.
Breath by breath.
Along the wall, images hung in gold and crimson frames. Each one held a portrait of femdom glory.
A red headed woman kneeling on a velvet throne, her boot pressed to a man’s bare chest.
A Japanese woman standing tall in a corset and gloves, her riding crop tapping a man’s lips while his eyes were blindfolded.
A Black woman with a shaven head and a snake tattoo down her spine gripping a man’s jaw as he groaned against her thigh—his mouth wide, his hands behind his back like in prayer.
These images were challenging my deepest-rooted convictions about power and vulnerability.
They taunted me.
They stripped something from me.
My logic.
My arrogance.
My illusion of control.
Continuing up, my pulse mirrored the rhythm of my climb. I could hear the faint echoes of my own heart thundering in my ears.
