Page 116 of The Dragon 1
Will she say yes? Or would the voice of fear rise again—ancestral, earned, and loud?
She blinked slowly and looked at me.
I saw the struggle in her eyes. That flicker of doubt. The echo of every time her body had been guarded without wanting to be.
But, I also saw something else.
Hunger.
For control.
For power that didn’t require hardness.
For softness that didn’t mean surrendering everything.
She bit her lip, just barely.
I almost groaned.
The waitress bowed again and stepped away.
The chef left too.
The food was exquisite—perfectly plated, warm, ephemeral—but I didn’t lift my chopsticks.
Not yet.
Instead, I leaned in slightly and let my voice dip low, just for her. "You don't have to decide tonight, Tora."
Her gaze sharpened.
"But when you do. . .”
She said nothing but her breath hitched.
I will wait.
For as long as she needed.
Becausewhenshe said yes—not if—but when—I already knew I would fall to my knees without hesitation.
And I would thank her for the privilege with my mouth, my tongue, my cock.
Nyomi finally picked up her chopsticks.
She didn’t look at me. Just leaned forward and pinched a delicate slice of tuna belly. Its fat shimmered under a drizzle of citrus ponzu.
She brought it to her mouth, paused, then took the bite.
A low moan escaped her lips.
She closed her eyes.
Chewed slowly.
Swallowed.
Then gave the softest, breathiest exhale—like the food had touched something holy inside her.
