2. Power at My Feet
Chapter two
Power at My Feet
Nyomi
The scent hit me before the sound did—blood, fresh and bitter, riding the heat that clung to Kenji’s skin.
Then came his footsteps, bare against the marble.
I stayed seated, though my fingers tightened around the arms of the queening throne. The leather under my palms felt slick now, not from sweat but from the static of fear and awe colliding inside me.
And then he walked in.
Kenji Sato.
Shirtless.
Torso a living canvas of dark ink and hard muscle.
No shoes.
No words.
Just blood drying on his hands and eyes full of fury.
And call me crazy, but it was absolutely magnificent to behold.
Shit. He is still pissed. I’m glad he isn’t mad at me.
Yet, to my surprise, he held a gift in one hand. It was a long box wrapped in thick, matte black paper with a single pink bow on top.
The contrast was almost disorienting.
Violence clung to his sculpted body, but the present appeared delicate.
It made my chest ache. Because only a man like him could carry both violence and kindness in the same breath, and make both feel like seduction.
Entering further into the room, his chest rose and fell with controlled breaths, though everything about his face said uncontrolled rage.
His jaw clenched. His mouth was firm. His hair was slightly damp, like he’d run bloody hands through the strands.
But it wasn’t just him that entered. He’d brought that menacing dragon-shadow too.
I blinked.
That shadow stretched behind him along the marble floor and up the walls—massive, serpentine. The shape of it shifted as he moved. A dragon. Formed of smoke and menace. It slithered in his wake, with eyes that weren’t quite visible, but somehow. . .still watching.
It didn’t roar.
It just coiled behind him like a warning.
I blinked again, and then it was gone.
I’m losing it.
I put my view back on Kenji.
He didn’t even glance at me.
He simply walked to the center of the space, where his shirt had been discarded on the floor during our earlier game of power and lust. He picked it up with one hand, shook out the folds, and slid his arms into the sleeves like he was arming himself.
What is going to happen now?
His movements were slow.
Intentional.
Each button he fastened was the click of a chamber loading.
And then. . .the door opened again behind him.
Two men stepped inside.
Who is this?
They moved in absolute silence—tall, unreadable, carved with muscle. They didn’t enter fully, just flanked either side of the door.
I didn’t know their names or titles, but I knew power when I saw it.
They didn’t look at me, but their presence was enough.
My gaze went to the tattoos near the corner of their eyes.
What is that? A kanji? What does it mean?
Kenji must have noticed me watching them. “Don’t worry, Tora. They are my Eyes.”
“Oh.” I looked back at them.
These are the Eyes. Wow.
I assessed them again. Both men were tall. Silent. Dressed in tailored black, their postures so still they didn’t seem human. But it was the tattoos that kept my full attention.
Kenji didn’t look back as he fastened the last button of his shirt. “They’ll be with us for the rest of the night.”
I glanced at the one on the left. The ink by his eye looked sharper when he tilted his head. “What are their names?”
Kenji adjusted the cuff of his sleeve. “Their names are Eyes. That is it, Tora.”
I frowned. “But surely they have names.”
Kenji shook his head. “For you. . .they don’t have names.”
“So, what am I supposed to say when I talk to them, Kenji?” I raised a brow. “Hello, Mr. Eye One and Mr. Eye Two?”
One of them—Eye Two—smiled. Just slightly. But then his expression vanished, as if pulled back behind some invisible code of conduct.
I caught it, though.
That flicker of humor.
Kenji didn’t smile. Instead, he frowned. “You won’t be talking to them.”
I rolled my eyes. “If they’re going to see me naked, then I can at least know their names.”
The room’s temperature shifted. The calm fury that had simmered on him earlier flared bright and immediate.
That dragon-shadow reappeared, turned its head toward me, and rose behind him.
What the fuck?
I parted my lips in shock.
That massive shadowed body unfurled along the floor, slithering fast, eyes unseen but burning, as if it had smelled the word naked and decided it needed to remind me who I belonged to.
I couldn’t move.
I could only stare as the darkness stretched toward my feet.
What is happening right now?
Then—just as fast as it appeared—that dragon-shadow vanished, dissolving back into nothing.
Kenji’s voice didn’t rise, but I felt it hit my bones like a sound made from thunder. “They will not see you naked.”
His jaw locked. His eyes darkened. His fists clenched at his sides like his body had to physically hold back the violence that wanted to be let loose.
“Okay.” My voice came out quieter than I intended. “Got it.”
Behind him, the Eyes exchanged a look, and it wasn’t fear, but. . .I think it was shock.
Kenji’s shoulders remained stiff for a moment longer. Then, slowly, he exhaled and rolled his neck like he was letting go of darkness. His eyes found mine again. Still hot. Still watching. But no longer burning to kill.
I sighed. “You told me that. . .they watch. . .everything.”
“I did, but things have changed. Your body is not for their gaze.”
My throat tightened.
He prowled over. “If you strip down, it will be for me. No one else. Not even ghosts.”
I grinned. “Ghosts?”
“Yes.” He stopped three feet in front and towered over me. “If you moan. . .it’ll be because of something I did. No one else. A sound I ripped from your throat because you couldn’t hold it in. Because my cock earned it.”
As soon as the word cock left his mouth, the air changed again.
The temperature didn’t rise—it dropped.
Thickened.
Warped.
And that shadowed-dragon slithered back into being, no longer hiding within the seams of darkness but stretching bold behind him.
My heart pounded in my chest.
His eyes locked on mine—stormy, relentless, and beautiful in their feral devotion. “You need to understand something, Tora. After tonight and your surprises. . .there is no calm in me where you’re concerned. No middle. No brakes. There’s only hunger and prayer.”
I exhaled, but it came out shaky.
“I want to protect you. Feed you. Worship you. Drown in you. Lock you somewhere only I can reach.”
I widened my eyes.
He closed the distance between us and gently placed the wrapped gift on my lap.
Then he looked back at the Eyes. “Wait for us on the roof.”
Without a word, they both nodded once and disappeared through the door like they’d never been there at all.
I tilted my head and let my gaze rise to his.
He stood over me now, right in front of the throne, broad and looming.
It took everything in me to push the next words out. “We’re going to the roof?”
“Yes. There’s a helicopter waiting for us.”
“It sounds like there is still a lot of fighting all around the building.”
“There is.”
“Are we in danger?”
“The only people in danger are our enemies.”
I opened my mouth to respond, but then he moved forward and lowered to his knees right in front of me. And the moment Kenji's knees touched the marble, something unholy bloomed inside me.
Shit.
Next, shock shattered the little bit of calm I had been holding on to.
Kenji Sato—the Dragon, the shadowed thing made of rage and myth, the one whose name could probably quiet rooms—knelt before me.
I didn’t command him.
I didn’t lift a finger.
And it undid me.
I nearly moaned.
It was so sensually obscene.
It was fucking holy.
It was the kind of erotic visual sight that could short-circuit my sanity.
My sore pussy clenched.
God, I probably could cum just from the sight of him kneeling. Is that possible? Is that who I am now? Yes. It is.
From the floor, he watched me and remained silent.
My thoughts looped in a frenzy.
No other man will ever do.
I pressed my thighs tighter together, completely turned on by his submission.
In fact, it was triggering a reaction in my bloodstream like I had ingested a drug.
It was the high of power. The ache of it.
The dangerous, sweet vertigo that came with knowing someone like Kenji had fallen to the floor for me .
Okay. . .will I ever get used to this?
The queening throne groaned beneath me as I shifted.
He didn’t move.
Didn’t break eye contact.
Didn’t blink.
Just stayed there.
On his knees.
And I felt this addiction rising in the marrow of my bones. I was speechless. All I could do was look down at my Dragon and wonder if I would ever come down from this high.
And then, softly, his deep voice caressed my skin. "I have something to ask you."
I raised my eyebrows. “What is it?”
My stomach twisted.
Those dark eyes never left mine.
Then—a scream pierced the hallway. It was sharp. Wet. The kind of scream that had probably seen the inside of a knife.
Holy shit!
Shivering, I turned my head toward the door.
Another scream came.
Shorter.
Choked.
My heart clenched. “There is still fighting in the hallway?”
“No.” Kenji’s voice grew calm. “Reo is just talking to someone.”
My gaze whipped back to him. “And when. . .Reo talks to someone. . .”
“Sometimes they scream.”
That didn’t match the Reo I knew. The one with sharp suits, quiet steps, and a voice that sounded like philosophy wrapped in expensive silk. “Sweet Reo?”
Kenji chuckled. “Is that how you see my Roar? Sweet?”
“Of course. He’s a complete gentleman with finesse and intelligence.”
He tilted his head. “Not dangerous?”
“I assumed he would be, but. . .I don’t see that. He seems more like a. . .mafia bookworm.”
Kenji’s expression shifted, something darker glittered in his eyes. “Good. Reo has made sure to keep that mask of death off his face when he’s around you.”
I blinked. That felt loaded with several meanings that I had no concept of. I didn’t even try to decipher that. Instead I focused on the situation at hand. “You are on your knees.”
“I am.”
“I like that.”
His lips curled, slow and knowing. “Then I’ll make sure to be on my knees more often when I’m around you.”
Goddamn. You do that and I’ll be cumming all over myself every day.
I had to cross my legs tighter just to keep my composure.
He hadn’t touched me.
Not one hand.
Not one kiss.
But everything about this moment made my pussy jump.
I leaned forward slightly. “So. . .what do you have to ask me?”