Total pages in book: 160
Estimated words: 161615 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 808(@200wpm)___ 646(@250wpm)___ 539(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 161615 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 808(@200wpm)___ 646(@250wpm)___ 539(@300wpm)
I bent down and kissed her where my teeth had marked her earlier. “You’re so perfect. I may not be able to stop biting you, but. . .every bruise, every ache. . .I’ll soothe it. I’ll worship it.”
She shivered as I licked the sweat from her skin, soft laps that contrasted every savage thrust I’d given her. She whimpered, sensitive, overstimulated, but she didn’t push me away.
“Stay here, Tora.”
“Where are you going?”
“Don’t move.”
“Okay.” Her lashes fluttered, heavy with exhaustion, but she gave me the smallest nod.
Reluctantly, I slipped from the bed, the sudden loss of her heat was a blade dragging down my skin.
My cock twitched at the obscene sight of my seed still dripping from her, streaking her thighs in little rivers of proof.
I groaned low in my chest, before forcing myself to turn away.
The floor was cold under my feet, reality intruding, but every step carried my vow: I destroy, I bite, I bruise, and still—I will be the one to mend.
I got to the bathroom and at the basin, I poured warm water and lavender soap into a bowl, dipped in a fresh cloth, and wrung it out until droplets ran over my knuckles.
It was difficult not to focus on the fact that all of this was so new to me.
No one had ever been in my actual bed, not the one where I slept.
No one had ever left the sheets ruined, the air heavy, the mattress soaked with the scent of us.
And I’d fucked countless women in my life, but not once had I risen from the bed for them. Not once had I thought about cloths and warm water, about wiping them clean as though they were something sacred instead of something used.
This was the first time.
She was the first woman to make a mess so beautiful it broke me. The first woman I ever wanted to cradle after destruction, to soothe after I had devoured.
God help me—she was changing me in ways I never thought possible.
Thank God my Eyes aren’t here, witnessing this.
The Dragon didn’t clean.
The Dragon didn’t tend.
The Dragon didn’t ache and tear up when a woman sighed against him and whispered love in his ear.
But this wasn’t any woman.
This was my Tiger.
Cloth and bowl in hand, I returned to the bed, and the world steadied the moment her eyes found mine.
She smiled at me. It was a simple, tired smile, but it shattered me into a thousand pieces, only to bring me back together again.
I sat down on the edge of the bed, dipping the cloth into the bowl and allowing the lavender scent to fill the room.
Next, I moved towards her and began to wipe her body.
She let out a soothing gasp.
“How do you feel, Tora?”
“Spoiled.”
“Good.” My heart hummed against my ribcage. "You deserve to be spoiled, Tora."
My hands moved gently over her body, the cloth warm and soft as it slipped over her skin.
Another soft sigh escaped her lips.
I slid the cloth between her thighs, gently wiping the mess I’d made. My cum glistened on the fabric, and the sight made my chest tighten with possession.
Hmmm.
She hissed softly at the cloth’s touch.
Her pussy must have been super tender.
I slowed down even more, circling delicately, cleaning her as if she were a sacred object.
Yes. . .I fucking love her more than I’m willing to admit to even myself.
Her breath hitched on an achy moan, and I glanced up to find her watching me, her eyes dark and half-lidded.
Her nipples puckered in the cool air, and I swallowed hard.
I could have fucked her one more time, but exhaustion rose within me.
She yawned. “The spy—”
“We’re not talking about the spy tonight.” I dipped cloth into the bowl of soapy water, cleaned it off good, and then wrung the cloth out, letting the droplets fall in a rhythmic patter.
“You don’t want me to find the spy?”
“It will be dangerous. You were supposed to spend these next days on the island writing in your office and enjoying yourself on the beach.”
She smiled. “Thank you for giving me that writing space.”
“Don’t thank me, Tora. It was for selfish reasons.”
“What selfish reasons?”
“Sometimes. . .I’ll want to take a break from my men, come into your office, sit in a chair, and watch you write.”
Her smile widened.
I resumed my actions, my fingers tracing the damp fabric over her thigh, and her body jerked in response. “Did you see your old recorder on the desk, next to the new one?”
She blinked. “I didn’t. I haven’t gotten a chance to go in there and look around.”
“It’s there, waiting for you.” I continued my careful descent, wiping more of her pussy and thighs, cleaning the mess off her skin.
“Hiroko wants me to write her life story.”
“Does that excite you?”
“Yes.”
“Are you done with wanting to write about Japan’s underground sex industry?”
“No.”
I frowned. “Tora. . .”