She chuckled, but I wasn’t playing at all.
Soon she was back in my arms and my hands traced the curve of her waist, the slope of her ribs, the swell of her breasts. I kissed each nipple softly, soothing where I’d bitten, sucking just enough to ease the sting.
Her fingers threaded weakly through my hair, pulling me closer. “Kenji. . .”
“Tora. . .” I wrapped her in my arms and pulled the blanket over us. Her body curled into mine instinctively. Her head rested against my chest. My heart was still hammering like a war drum, but I let her hear it, let her feel the rhythm she had created.
“Thank you, Tora.”
“Thank you for what?”
“Thank you for this.” I stroked her back slowly, from her damp nape down to the curve of her spine, memorizing every shiver. My hand lingered at the dip above her ass, savoring the heat there, the way her body molded into mine like it had been waiting all its life for this fit.
Her breathing slowed, soft, uneven.
She was drifting.
But before she slipped under, she whispered, “I really mean it. I love you.”
Tears pricked again, unwanted, feral.
I closed my eyes and was glad the darkness would hide the weakness she didn’t need to see.
My throat closed around the words I should’ve said back.
My Tiger had already taken everything from me—my control, my hunger, my sanity. I couldn’t let her strip me of my dignity too.
So, I just held her tighter, breathing her in like salvation.
Inside, the Dragon howled in aching, violent hunger.
Inside, the man wept and knelt in a need so fragile it could barely speak her name.
Soft snores left her.
Still with my eyes closed, I smiled.
Sleep now, Tiger. Get your rest. Soon, the hunt for my father’s spy begins.
Currently, the Fox still believed he was at war with the Dragon.
He didn’t realize he would be stepping into battle against a man already lost to love—one who would wage a war more ruthless than any general, because surrender was no longer possible.
Chapter nine
The Dragon’s Reach
Nyomi
The next morning, I woke, pinned beneath Kenji's arm. His huge, muscular body curved around me like I was something precious he'd die defending.
For one disorienting second, I forgot my own name and only knew the soothing warmth of Kenji's chest against my spine, the possessive weight of his arm across my waist, and his breath painting heat down the curve of my neck.
This was it. The scene in the fantasy novel where Sol woke in the dragon's protective embrace.
Sol had been terrified—naked, confused, surrounded by treasure in Korin's lair with no memory of how her clothes disappeared. She'd tried to slip away while he slept, tiptoeing through mountains of gold and jewels, desperate for escape.
I understood her panic now, but our situations were opposite in the way that mattered most.
