30. The Mystery in the Water
Chapter thirty
The Mystery in the Water
Kenji
I stepped into our bedroom and the tightness in my chest followed me.
Afternoon light slid through the curved glass and the sheer silk tamed it.
The sea beyond threw silver at the horizon.
The cherry blossom tree in the black stone planter held its pink.
The bed—low, wide, impossible—waited with black sheets and a spill of deep red. I took pride in the fact that my Tiger had finally slept there and now those sheets would smell like her—ripe plum and black amber.
Heat climbed my throat.
The word mine sat heavy behind my teeth.
Two housemaids were finishing a spread at the lacquered table—tea steaming, little sweets arranged in militant rows, napkins folded into paper cranes, lotus blooms, and fans.
They bowed when they noticed me and then kept their eyes down. Soon, they headed out in a rustle of slippers.
The bathroom door stood ajar, letting a veil of steam slip into the room, warm and perfumed, blurring the edges of the furniture like a dream half-remembered.
I crossed to the nightstand.
The book— When the Dragon Swallowed the Moon —waited where I’d left it, but the tassel sat further along.
You read more, Tora? Very naughty. Couldn’t wait, could you? Next time, I’ll hide the book from you.
A childish annoyance cut through my ribs.
I wanted to read the story to her from now on, be the voice that carried those words into her ear.
I imagined my Tiger curled against me, listening, her breathing syncing to the story’s rhythm.
Her eyes roaming where I would be guiding them.
I considered the joy it would be to see her eyes widen at the exciting new things to come for Sol and her two ferocious dragons.
Has she met Korin’s twin brother yet? I hope not. I want to do that voice for her.
I even pictured how hot it would be to read the nasty sex scenes soon to come in the book. Then, touch her pussy, feel her wetness, and fuck her hard.
Yes. Next time you open that book, it will be us reading it together.
The sound of water spilling continued from the bathroom.
Then it stopped.
My Tiger, what are you doing?
I moved toward the bathroom, the steam parting for me in slow, reluctant curls. The heat from the bath pressed against my skin, and the new smell of lavender filled the space.
Mmmm.
The fragrance loosened my shoulders.
The last twenty-four hours had stacked inside me—orders, detonations stopped and detonations done, the weight of three hundred men’s lives.
My skin felt too tight over the muscle, my skull too small for my thoughts.
The pressure in my chest still had not left.
Release.
I needed it like air.
Tora. . .help me. . .
I shifted into a predator, hunting its seductive prey. My pulse pounded through my veins. I padded lightly across the room. When I reached the threshold, I nudged the door further open and stepped inside.
Aww. There is my Tiger.
The bathroom was a temple, and she was its priestess.
Black stone framed my massive tub set deep in the floor. Gushes of perfumed steam rose from the rippling surface. Rose petals lazily drifted.
Candlelight burned along the perimeter despite the hour, steady points of gold caught in the stone, in the water, in the sheen on her throat.
The glass shower to the right gleamed with its rainfall heads and the waiting bench.
To the left, the gold-rimmed vanity usually held an army of brushed metal and glass—lotions, oils, combs, lip color in a line that looked like ammunition.
But today. . .other things lay on the surface.
A coiled length of braided silk rope, dark as midnight, still damp at the tips as if it had just been pulled from water.
A pair of silver clamps rested on a folded square of black cloth.
And there were other things—a thin, clear tube, a glass wand, a slick, black whip.
I knew what some of these did.
The others. . .I wasn’t sure.
Not yet.
And the not knowing twisted a heat in my gut.
I raised my eyebrows.
This will not be a normal bath. . .
I fixed my gaze to her.
Earlier, she’d worn a black pencil skirt, sheer white top, and those red stilettos.
I’d imagined tearing all of it off—splitting the seams, hearing the fabric surrender—then bending her over with the heels still on, letting that flash of red stay in my peripheral vision while I slammed my cock into her over and over until she forgot her own name.
But she had changed the game once again.
Nyomi stood at the far edge of the pool in a shiny silk robe the color of ripe plum. It stopped at the mid-point of her thighs. The robe didn’t hide her curves, just traced over the slope of her full breasts, the dip of her waist, the swell of her hips.
Mmmm.
Her hair was pinned up in a loose knot that made my palms ache to pull it down.
Steam curled around her calves and climbed, licking the undersides of her thighs and worshipping her like I planned to soon.
Her dark brown skin glowed against the dreamy haze, making her appear almost untouchable.
She was so full of surprises—constantly having me on edge, in the most maddening, and endearing ways.
From just seeing her, some pressure eased in my chest. Not all of it, but enough to remind me I could breathe better now.
And then something caught my attention, I looked down and saw two leather cuffs anchored to the black stone lip of the tub.
What?
I peered at the water. Gold hooks shimmered deep in the water. There were two of them at the bottom of the tub.
But why? Are those handcuffs? Or metal straps? Is she going to. . .strap me into the tub? Bind me somehow in the water?
My mouth went dry. A new tightness pressed the old tightness lower. My mind—filled with plans, contingencies, and strategies—went quiet.
I had spent the last hours deciding which streets would catch fire first, which men would eat and which would starve, who got to hold their child tonight and who would possibly leave a widow later this week.
I contemplated all the ways to find my brother and father and rip their fucking heads off.
I’d had to be the Dragon.
The monster.
The cruel violent beast.
But in here. . .in this bathroom. . .my Tiger meant to put me in water, strip the scales from my skin, dampen the fire, and remind me I was still a man made of flesh and bone. A man with a heart that could be soothed.
Here, in this heat and candle-glow, where petals drifted and lavender wrote poetic words in the air, I was just a body that belonged to her.
Oh, Tora. . .
The peace that hit me wasn’t gentle. It slammed through my ribs, giving me full mercy.
I let out a long breath finally feeling like I could fully breathe.
I stared at those leather cuffs anchored to the tub and more tightness uncoiled from my chest.
I lifted my view to her. “You’ve been busy.”
She turned slowly, and the robe shifted on her shoulders. “I have.”
I should have been focused on the bathroom and her surprise, but I still had the question of her departure weighing heavy on my mind. “Why did you leave my war room?”
“You declared me the Dragon’s Heart.” She blinked as if still shocked by that reveal.
“Then. . .you began to slice off a man’s ear and.
. .I was close to vomiting so. . .I didn’t want to show my fear and my inability to keep it together.
Not in front of all your men. Not after that big declaration. ”
“They would have understood.”
“Kiko is right. I am an outsider, but that doesn’t mean I have to stay that way. I can learn. I can adapt. I can hold it together long enough to not vomit all over your war room floor.”
Her explanation settled in my chest like a diamond finding its setting.
She understood. Without me telling her, she’d read the air, measured the room, and decided to walk away before giving the Scales something new to gnaw on.
She protected her position and mine. That was the sort of move the Scales respected, the sort of move I respected.
Granted, I wouldn’t have thought her weak.
But the gossip would have been different tonight. It would have spread like smoke through the island. The Scales would’ve talked about how the Dragon’s Heart turned pale in the war room, how she couldn’t stand the blood, how maybe she wasn’t made for this world after all.
Instead, she’d left them with nothing but the memory of her standing tall and looking absolutely sexy. High regard intact. Untouchable. And then the last memory of her walking away, confident and clicking gunshots in the air.
My body hummed.
I loved her for that.
Needing to have her mouth against mine, I headed over.
She held her hand up. “No. Stay right there.”
I paused. “Why would I ever do that?”
She gestured to the tub. “Do you want to see how deep the rabbit hole goes?”
“I do.”
“Then there will be rules.”
“Rules? I’m not sure about that. I want to hurt your pussy.”
“Hurt it later.” She parted the robe, and with a shrug so simple it split the world, that plum silk slithered down and puddled around her feet.
A dark groan left me.
She was naked.
Steam clung and slid, finding every curve and hollow, making her skin look kissed by invisible mouths. Candlelight filmed her in molten gold, glazing her hips, her collarbones, the deep line between her breasts.
My sanity took a step backward.
Her nipples stood tight and dark brown against the cooler air beyond the steam, a shade deeper than the swell of her breasts, the kind of stiff peaks a man wanted to warm with his mouth until they stiffened against his tongue.
The curve of her stomach led down to the perfect, upside-down triangle trimmed close and neat between her thighs, the dark hair catching tiny drops of water until they glittered like they’d been jeweled for me.
Her legs—long, smooth, strong—set slightly apart in a stance that wasn’t shy. The angle gave me the faintest glimpse of the darker, secret flesh between, a sight that had my cock swelling so fast it ached.
Oh, Tora.
The steam rolled upward again, curling over her. It knew she was a goddess worth worshipping.
And I did too.
Every inch of me.
My eyes moved slow over her, mapping that body, deciding exactly where I’d put my hands first, where I’d bite, where I’d bruise, where I’d make her tremble and cry my name.
She didn’t flinch. Didn’t hide. She stood there and let me take her in, the Queen granting her Dragon the view of the kingdom he’d burn the whole world to protect.
“Are you going to be my good little Dragon?”
Everything in me vibrated. The monster in my ribs rolled over on his back and offered his throat. I exhaled a curse that might have been a prayer. My head was too fogged to know the difference.
What was it about a specific woman that made men like me so weak?
She eyed me. “Are you?”
My voice sounded hoarse. “What do you want, my Queen?”
“Take off your clothes.” She tilted her chin. “You’re dirty. It’s time for a bath.”
“I want you.”
“I will be your reward. . .later. . .”
My fingers went to my belt. Metal clicked.
The sound was small and obscene here, trapped between black stone, water, and petals.
Next, I undid the pants, stepped out, and then slid the briefs down.
The ritual of shedding them in front of her made me feel both ridiculous and holy—like a king who’d decided the crown was too heavy and set it aside because a woman told him to.
When I was completely naked, she let out a soft moan that I knew she hadn’t intended me to hear.
Her gaze moved over me slowly, and I could feel every inch of it. The heat from the bath might have been nothing compared to the heat in her eyes.
She didn’t rush. She drank me in like she had all day.
Her eyes lingered on the ink—black and gold dragons that coiled across my chest, slashed down my ribs, curled along my hip before disappearing into more shadow.
She traced the edges of them without moving her hands, and I swear I could feel it anyway—phantom fingertips running over muscles and scars.
Her breathing slowed, and I knew she was reading me the way I’d read her in the war room—measuring what I was, deciding how far she could push me before the fire came out.
When her gaze dropped lower, something in my stomach tightened hard.
She stopped at my pierced cock.
The gold rose-shaped apadravya gleamed in the candlelight.
Right in that moment, a bead of precum spilled from the tip.
I groaned.
She did too.
The drop landed on the floor.
Her lips parted and she let out the smallest exhale.
Oh, Tiger. Come here and lick it up.
The sight of her reaction—how her pupils flared and how her chin tilted so she could get a better look—made my balls tighten and pull high.
She didn’t try to hide her hunger, and God, I loved her for that.
I tried to walk over to her.
She shook her head. “Rule number one, you don’t move unless I tell you to.”
“I don’t like that rule.”
“I didn’t ask.”
I smirked. “Why are there leather straps anchored on the side of the tub?”
“You’ll know why when you need to.”
My cock jumped from her audacity.
She lifted one hand and trailed her fingers along her own throat, down between her breasts, lower. “What’s our safe word?”
My jaw locked. Heat surged throughout my body. “ Ume .”
“Correct. Good little Dragon.”
I groaned. “Now what, Tora?”
I was naked and unashamed, hungry and shaking with how hard I was trying not to move without permission. The tightness in my chest was almost gone, replaced by an erotic thrum that belonged to her.
In this war, I was finally seeing that she would be my top stress reliever. She would keep my mind clear.
Nyomi leaned her head to the side. “Now what?”
“Yes.”
“Get on your knees and crawl to the tub.”