Chapter 47
Chapter forty-seven
The Gift of Love
Kenji
She sat up slowly.
The sheets pooled around her waist, as she reached for the box with trembling fingers.
I watched her face as she opened it.
Confusion first.
Then disbelief.
Then something that looked like shock mixed with wonder.
She looked up at me. "These are. . .keys.”
"Yes."
"Did you get me a car?"
"No."
She stared at me, utterly baffled. "Keys to a new office?"
"No."
"A. . .house?"
"No."
"Then what are these keys for?"
I smiled and sat up too. "They’re for your plane."
She blinked.
Her mouth opened.
Closed.
Opened again.
Nothing came out.
"It's being built right now," I continued, savoring every second of her shocked reaction.
"Custom designed. It should be ready in a few months.
After the war is over, you can use it to visit your grandmother whenever you want.
Weekly, if you'd like. I know how much you miss her.
You should also bring her out to Japan. We could show her Tokyo, Osaka, Kyoto. She may love it."
"She would lose her mind." She stared at the keys like they might bite her. "Kenji. . .a plane?"
I reached out and tucked a braid behind her ear.
“Yes. You deserve it. This is my thank you.
You get a plane because you unraveled an entire spy network in a single night.
Because you saved my life and didn't even realize you were doing it.
Because thirty more people would have eventually put bullets in my head or taken you from me if you hadn't followed your instincts. "
I cupped her face in my hands again, making sure she was looking directly into my eyes. "Thank you. I’m going to spoil you for the rest of your life, Tora. This is just the beginning."
The tears came freely now—streaming down her cheeks, dripping onto my thumbs. "Kenji. . ."
"Do you like it?"
“Y-yes.”
“Good.” I kissed her forehead.
She let out a sound that was half-laugh, half-sob. "A plane. You got me a plane. Zo is going to shriek for days."
“Good. When the plane is done being built, you can take Zo on a trip—”
“Everybody. You. Hiroko. Some of my girls back home. Hiro and the twins of course. Reo.”
I frowned. “My men?”
“Of course.” She set the box aside carefully, and then she was in my arms again—kissing my face, my jaw, my neck, my shoulders. Everywhere she could reach.
And our kissing turned heated.
We began sucking and nibbling.
Taking off our clothes in between kisses and caressing.
Until soon we were both naked, and I was on my back, and she straddled me, her thighs bracketing my hips, her hands pressing flat against my chest.
My cock deep inside that wet pussy.
And she rode me like a good little Tiger.
So much bliss.
So much ecstasy.
I closed my eyes and let her worship me.
It felt wrong. I was the one who worshipped. I was the one who devoured, dominated, claimed. But tonight, with her hands and her mouth and her wet pussy surrounding my cock, I couldn't fight it.
Didn't want to.
She fucked me with the slow rhythmic roll of her hips.
“Oh, Tora.”
“You like that, baby?”
“Yes. Keep riding my cock.”
“Mmm.” She set the pace—gentle at first, tender. Her palms pressed against my chest for balance as she moved, her eyes never leaving my face.
This is love.
The realization cut through the fog of horror and memory.
This is what it feels like to be loved by someone who sees all of you—the monster and the man—and chooses to stay anyway.
My hands found her hips, not to control, but to anchor.
To feel her move.
To remind myself that this was real—that she was real—that I hadn't burned everything good in my life to ash tonight.
And anytime Mami's screams echoed somewhere in the darkness of my mind, Nyomi's soft moans drowned them out.
And when Sako's broken sobbing lingered at the edges of my sanity, my Tiger’s wet pussy pulled me back.
"Stay with me, Dragon."
A dark, ragged moan left me.
Fuck. I should make her my wife tomorrow.
Without warning, I flipped us.
Nyomi gasped as her back hit the mattress, but I swallowed the sound with my mouth, kissing her hard as I hooked her legs over my shoulders.
"My turn," I growled against her lips.
And then I made good on that promise.
“Oh! Oh!”
“That’s a good little Tiger.” I drove my cock into her with controlled savagery—deep, angled thrusts designed to hit exactly where she needed. “Look how good you take this cock. So perfect.”
“Oh, Kenji!” Her nails raked down my back as she cried out, and the sting of it centered me further.
Grounded me in sensation instead of memory.
This is real. She is real. Focus on her. Always on her.
She arched beneath me, her head thrown back. "Oh God!"
Groaning, I bit down on the junction of her neck and shoulder, sucking hard enough to mark a new side of her.
But it still wasn't enough.
I needed more.
Needed to taste her in a way that went beyond skin, sweat, and the salt of her pleasure.
I needed to consume.
My teeth sank deeper.
“Ah!” Nyomi's body jerked beneath me—a violent spasm that arched her spine off the mattress and drove her nails into my shoulders hard enough to draw blood of her own. "Kenji!"
You’re mine to taste, Tora.
The skin resisted for one eternal second.
Then it gave.
Copper bloomed across my tongue—hot, rich, alive. Her blood filled my mouth like communion wine, and something primal in me roared with satisfaction.
Mine. Every drop of you belongs to me.
“Oh!!!” Her cry split the darkness—not quite pain, not quite pleasure, but something in between. Something raw and desperate that made my cock throb inside her.
"Oh God! Oh fuck!" Her voice cracked on the words, her body trembling violently beneath me. Her walls clenched around my cock so tight I saw stars.
And still I didn't let go.
Fucking her hard, I sucked at the wound, drawing more of her essence onto my tongue, feeling her pulse hammer against my lips. Each beat of her heart pushed more blood into my mouth, and I swallowed it like a man dying of thirst.
This is what I needed. Not just her body. Her life force. Proof that she was real, warm, and bleeding for me.
Her hips bucked against mine—involuntary, frantic. The pain was mixing with the pleasure now, I could feel it in the way her pussy couldn't decide whether to pull away from my cock or press closer.
"Kenji—please—I can't—"
I released the bite with a wet sound and lifted my head to look at her.
Blood smeared my lips.
Her blood.
In the moonlight, I could see the wound I'd made—a crescent of tooth marks already welling with crimson, dark against her brown skin.
It would scar.
I'd made sure of it.
Good.
Her eyes were glazed, pupils blown wide, chest heaving with ragged breaths. Tears leaked from the corners of her eyes—not from sadness, but from the overwhelming intensity of sensation.
“Cum for me, Tora.” I pumped into her hungry pussy.
“Oh. Oh. Oh.”
“You’re so beautiful when you take this cock. Such a good Tiger.”
“Oh Fuck.”
“I’m going to fuck you all over this island.” I drove into her harder.
Deeper.
“I’m going to fuck you all over your new plane too.”
“Oh, baby.”
“So wet. So tight. So perfect.” My mouth found the other side of her neck and I bit down again, right next to an old mark.
Not as deep this time.
Just enough to bruise.
Just enough to make her scream. "KENJI!"
Her walls fluttered around my cock, and I felt the telltale clench of her approaching orgasm. She was close. So fucking close. The pain was pushing her there faster than pleasure alone ever could.
That's my Tiger. Taking everything I give her. Even the parts that hurt.
I released the second bite and kissed my way back to her mouth, letting her taste her own blood on my lips.
She moaned into the kiss, her tongue chasing the copper, and the depravity of it made my balls tighten.
"Cum for me," I commanded against her mouth. "Cum on my cock while you taste yourself on my tongue."
Her body obeyed before her mind could catch up.
The orgasm crashed through her like a wave—violent, overwhelming, devastating. Her back arched so hard I thought she might break. Her nails carved bloody furrows down my spine. Her scream filled the room, bouncing off the walls, drowning out every ghost that had followed me from that prison.
And I followed her over the edge. My release tore through me with savage intensity, spilling into her in hot, pulsing waves.
Soon you’ll be having my baby.
I buried my face in her neck—in the wound I'd made, in the blood still seeping warm against my lips—and let myself fall apart inside her.
For one perfect, shattered moment, there was nothing else.
No burning flesh.
No screaming traitors.
No thirty new names on a death list.
Just her.
Just us.
Just the taste of blood and the smell of sex and the sound of our ragged breathing filling the darkness.
When I finally lifted my head, she was looking at me with an expression I couldn't quite name.
Wonder, maybe.
Or devastation.
Or love so fierce it bordered on madness.
I couldn’t even speak anymore, and I damned sure didn’t pull out of her perfect pussy. I lay against her, closed my eyes, and let the rhythm of her pulse lull me further toward peace.
The blood on my lips was drying.
The wounds on her neck would need cleaning soon.
But for now—for this one stolen moment—I let myself rest in the arms of the woman who had saved me.
Tomorrow, the traps for the Fox would be laid out.
Tomorrow, thirty already imprisoned snakes would burn.
But tonight, the Dragon would sleep peacefully beside his Tiger queen.