Page 180 of The Dragon 2
“However, you are you. And your softness is a weapon when wielded right. And your pleasure is not a weakness. It is a kingdom. No man—no matter how powerful, how precise, how perfectly obsessed—should be able to take that without your permission.”
I straightened my spine. “Alright. So. . .I tried to push him away, what should I have done?”
“What should you have done?” She sighed. “You should have owned the moment. Not resisted it. Not surrendered to it.Ownedit.”
I frowned. “I thought pushing him in that moment was showing him he didn’t have control. Should I have leaned away or left the table.”
“Left the table?” She gave a small, amused breath. “You’re not a scared girl in a horror movie, Nyomi. You’re not supposed to run. You’re supposed tocommand.If you wanted space, you don’t push him back—you make himbegfor another inch of you.”
“How do I do that?”
“Next time he steps in close, don’t shove. Don’t shrink. Look up at him. Unblinking. Say nothing. Let him feel the weight of your silence, your knowing, your restraint. Let him realize you are not prey. You are a goddess deciding whether to bless or burn him.”
I stared, heart pounding.
She touched her own throat gently. “Your voice is powerful. But so is your silence. Your breath. Your gaze. Yourstillness.You have the power. That means every inch of your body—even your damned pulse—is a command if you choose it to be.”
“Okay.”
“Do you understand?”
“Yes.”
“You’ve been doing excellent, and you are moving fast. If he were a regular man I would have clapped for you and said congratulations, but he is the Dragon.” She snapped her fingers. “Catch up because he already has plans to trap you.”
“Yeah. He told me that he won’t let me leave Tokyo.”
She stared at me like I was crazy. “What? You thought you would be leaving Japan after this night?”
“Yes.”
“Why would you think that?” And for the first time, she laughed. “I am going to need a lot of alcohol this evening.”
I didn’t even want to unpack the not leaving Tokyo part just yet. I cleared my throat, and she stopped laughing. . .a little. “So. . .I want him and. . .I’m a bit horny.”
“You are more than a bit horny, Nyomi.”
“Well. . .if Iwanthim tonight. . .? Like. . .want to kiss him or touch him. . .”
Her smile curved. “Then you take him. But youmarkhim first.”
I raised a brow. “Mark him?”
She leaned in like she was about to whisper a sacred rite. “You kiss him backharder.You tug his hair. You put your hand on his chest and feel his heart stutter under your palm—not to push him away, but to let himfeel who owns it now.You take the pleasure, yes—but you let him know exactly who’s running the scene.”
“Okay.” I bobbed my head, finally understanding this power dynamic stuff even more.
“Remember. There is power in softness, yes. There is freedom in surrender, yes. But not if you forget who you are. Not if you forget the difference between being claimed—and being caged.”
I said nothing.
But something in me hardened.
And then, just for a moment, her eyes softened.
Not much.
But enough to feel it.
