Page 233 of The Dragon 2
Men didn’t talk publicly about it with each other, but we all had this unspoken knowledge of how much we loved showing our cocks to women—the ones we wanted, the ones who made our blood burn with deranged desire.
And it wasn’t just about sex.
It was about power, vulnerability, hunger, and worship all tangled together.
There was something primal about pulling out a thick, aching cock and watching a woman’s breath hitch, her pupils dilate, her lips part like she had seen a fucking god.
And Nyomi’s reaction fed something ancient inside me.
My pierced cock jutted her way.
I looked up at my Tiger Queen.
Panting, she licked her lips. “There it is. . .beautiful. Angry. Begging.”
“This cock is yours, Queen.”
“Mmm.” Still, she didn’t reach for it. Instead, she dragged her gaze from my leaking mushroomed head down the length of me and made another soft, pleased sound in her throat. “Stroke it.”
I quirked my brows. “Stroke. . .it?”
“Yes.”
I stared up at her, jaw tight, resisting the urge to come just from the command alone.
She continued, “And stroke that big cock, nice and slow. Show me what your devotion looks like.”
I almost collapsed forward.
Almost.
Instead, I wrapped a hand around my cock and began to stroke—long, slow pulls from base to tip, every movement a trembling act of obedience and need. My biceps flexed. I grunted from the friction of my hand on my cock.
Pleased, she sat back on her throne, legs still parted, watching me. Worshiping me as I worshiped her. Her scent hung heavy in the air, mixing with the musk of my arousal, until it felt like we were swimming in something forbidden.
My breath hitched.
I stroked again. “Q-queen. . .please. . .”
My thighs shook beneath me.
Still, she didn’t touch me.
Still, she didn’t give me permission to touch her.
She simply leaned forward again, and whispered, “Now stop.”
My hand froze in place, my grip was still tight around my shaft. The denial was a hot knife in my gut, but I complied. In the hazy fog of lust, there was a semblance of clarity. This woman had enraptured me completely—her power over me was absolute.
The way she wielded her sexuality was like a weapon.
Dangerous.
Intoxicating.
Somehow. . .I removed my hand from my cock, and the absence of touch immediately made me yearn for more. “Queen. . .please. . .”
“Please what?”
