Page 111 of The Dragon 2
Candlelight dripping down long black tapers. My body wrapped in silk or maybe red leather with laces up the side.
A chair in the center of the room—throne-like but simple.
Bare.
Waiting.
Kenji would walk in and freeze.
No words.
No commands.
Just me . . .seated.
Poised.
Watching him with hooded eyes and slow breath.
I could picture the way his jaw would clench, the silent war that would ripple through his spine. That twitch in his temple like he was barely keeping it together.
God, what would it feel like to unmake a man like that?
To strip away his control and perceived traditions.
To touch him and say,Don’t move.
To have him obey me.
The Dragon, vulnerable.
A delicious shiver rushed over my spine.
The thought wasn’t just hot, it was terrifying. Because if I did this. . .if I opened that door, I would have to walk through it too. That meant more than lingerie and leather cuffs.
It meant trust.
It meant learning what I liked.
What I feared.
What I wanted when no one was watching.
Do I even know? And. . .the date has to be more than just sex and power.
There had to be space for softness too. Context and culture.
If I wanted to seduce him into surrendering, I also had to give him a window into me.
What would that even look like?
Maybe I’d cook for him. Something my grandmother taught me. Red beans and rice from scratch. Fried plantains the way she made them when I was sick. Sweet tea so strong it gives you cavities and therapy.
I chuckled.
Or maybe I’d play him my favorite music.
A playlist that told my story. Not just the sexy stuff. The Sunday-cleaning jams. The heartbreak anthems. The protest songs that made me cry in college when I was too broke to go home.
