Page 202 of The Dragon 2
She thinks I’m going to be her little dog this evening? No. I’m the Dragon.
I looked up and seared her with my gaze.
She just watched me and didn’t even blink.
What are your plans, Tora?
I began imagining scenarios.
Would she run her fingers through my hair and call me her good boy while I licked something sweet from her hand?
I shifted in my seat, my cock twitching again—half-hard, half-terrified.
This was more than flirtation. It was a glimpse of where she could take me if I let her.
And she wasn’t just feeding me dessert. She was feeding me the idea that I could be owned.
And the sickest part?
I wasn’t sure I hated it.
I studied her. “Where is your. . .doggy bowl?”
She formed those lips into a wicked smile.
“Tora. . .” I leaned my head to the side. “I asked you a question.”
The other waitress approached silently and offered Nyomi something small and sleek.
I took it in and raised my eyebrows.
A blowtorch? Where is this going? I’m really glad she stressed us needing to have a safe word.
My heart boomed in my ears.
Still smiling at me, Nyomi cradled it in her hands.
The waitresses bowed again and disappeared, leaving only the soft jazz, the silver bowl, and a growing tension so thick I could’ve sliced it with my steak knife.
I was not used to surprises on dates but this was no longer a fucking date.
It was sensual theater on the highest level.
It was erotic power plays where I kept getting outmaneuvered.
And even more. . .it was psychological warfare dripping in sex.
And without any fucking logic at all. . .I was becoming obsessed with this night and her.
I narrowed my eyes. “What are you going to do with that flame torch.”
Still silent, she stood slowly, gathering the folds of her red leather gown with one graceful motion, and crossed the space between us.
O-kay.
Her heels whispered against the polished floor but every step she took was thunder in my bloodstream.
Tora. . .where is this going?
