Total pages in book: 152
Estimated words: 154368 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 772(@200wpm)___ 617(@250wpm)___ 515(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 154368 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 772(@200wpm)___ 617(@250wpm)___ 515(@300wpm)
The Dragon burns and the walls aren't just closing in—they're on fire.
To survive this war, she'll have to become something even the Dragon didn't see coming.
The Dragon, Book 5—the scorching, unstoppable continuation of Kenya Wright's bestselling dark yakuza romance saga, where love isn't just a weakness. It's the most dangerous weapon of all
*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************
Prologue
Burning
Nyomi
What does it mean to burn?
To truly light up in a blaze of heat and fire.
Waking up wrapped in the inferno of Kenji, consumed by a heat so complete I couldn't tell where my body ended and his began—that was burning.
That was fire.
His scent and essence were everywhere.
Around me.
Behind me.
Over me.
His arm draped across my waist, heavy with muscle even in sleep. His chest pressed against my back like a wall of living flame, radiating warmth that seeped past my skin and into my bones until my blood slowed, thickened, turned molten.
I was cocooned.
Pinned.
Held in place by the sheer mass of this sexy, dangerous man.
Fuck.
Was I going to wake up like this every morning?
Wrapped in him.
Claimed by heat before I even opened my eyes?
I kept my eyes closed, afraid that if I looked, the spell might break. I wanted to stay right here—floating in sensation, suspended between sleep and waking, between safety and surrender.
His breath stirred my hair in a slow, steady rhythm. Every time he exhaled, I felt the expansion of his ribs against my spine.
In.
Out.
It was the cadence of safety.
It anchored me.
His huge hand splayed across my stomach. Those fingers were spread wide like he was claiming me in his dreams.
The heat of his palm burned through the thin silk of my nightgown.
Branding me.
I could feel the calluses on his fingers, the roughness that contradicted the gentleness of his touch.
My neck throbbed with a different kind of heat. The bite marks he'd left there last night—teeth sinking into the curve where my shoulder met my throat.
Marking me.
Dominating me.
All of it made me feel like I was lying beside an ancient, primal, and unstoppable beast that had decided, for now, not to devour me.
The bruises from his teeth pulsed now with their own warmth, tender and swollen, and even that ache felt like burning love.
Even that pain felt like belonging.
This is everything.
I let myself savor this moment. The weight of his arm. The furnace of his chest. The way his thigh wedged between mine, solid as an oak, anchoring me to him even in sleep.
I pressed back against him, letting his heat soak through me, letting myself dissolve into the comfort of his body.
With my eyes still closed, I moved my hand and guided my fingertips to the bite marks on my neck.
Damn, Kenji.
I traced the indentations his teeth had left behind.
One day, you’re going to fully consume me.
And those bite marks weren’t warm.
They were burning.
Throbbing like a slow-burning brand.
Had his teeth written themselves into my skin in a language my body understood before my mind did?
What else were his teeth saying to my body, besides mine?
I was still tracing the echo of his teeth when something else threaded into my awareness. It was a faint scent at first, barely there. It curled through the room, mixing with Kenji’s heat.
Mmmm. What’s that?
I sniffed.
Roasting meat. Delicious.
The soothing aroma drifted through the room.
Rich.
Fatty.
Savory.
My stomach growled.
I breathed it in.
It smells like. . .Christmas ham slow-roasting over heat. Is the chef cooking up a big breakfast feast for this morning?
A wave of hunger washed over me, twining with my desire for Kenji like two serpents in a dance. Tearing my attention away from the pulsing marks on my neck.
I blinked my eyes open, taking in the pale light from the window.
And that was when I saw it.
What? No way.
Beyond the glass, white flakes drifted past.
Oh my God. Snow.
My heart warmed.
So beautiful.
White flakes twirled in the early light, floating and swirling.
Delicate as lace.
Breathtaking.
I watched them drift past the window, completely mesmerized.
Snow on the island? But. . .
It had been warm yesterday. Kenji and I had been swimming in the water, enjoying his private island.
How could it be suddenly snowing now?
The snowflakes continued to lazily spin through the air. Some rose on invisible currents. Others simply floated.
And behind them, through the glass, an orange glow pulsed like a heartbeat.
Huh? What’s that?
I moved Kenji's arms and slowly began to get up.
He stirred instantly, brought his arm back, and tightened his hold.
I moved the heavy arm again.
A low, dark growl left him. “Tora?”
I smirked and pushed his arm away again. “I’m just going to the window.”
“Why?”
"Because it's snowing." I was already moving toward the edge of the bed and sliding out from under the covers.
“Snowing?”
“Yes.”
He yawned. “It shouldn’t be snowing.”
“I know.”
“It’s not winter.”
“I know, but it’s snowing.” My feet hit the cold floor as I rose from the bed. The loss of his heat hit me like grief, sudden and sharp.
The smell began to get stronger as I headed to the window. That roasting meat scent started to coat the back of my throat.
“Tora. . .wait—”
“I’ll be right back.”
Worry laced his voice. "No. Tora, come back now."
“Why?” I wrapped my arms around myself and kept moving toward the window. I heard the bed shift behind me, heard him sitting up. “I’ll be quick, Kenji. I just love when it snows—”