HEIR TO THE DOJO

IMPERIUM AIRLINE

Bang! Bang!

It was a heavy knock, maybe it was a kick. It came crashing on the door of the male restroom door outside.

"Heck," Ragnar rasped and spun to the door."Who the heck knocks like that?"

He put out the sink water, walking to the door when a second knock came on the door— heavy and purposeful. Before he could pull back the door handle, the door crashed open with a heavy force, slamming against the wall.

A woman stumbled in, crashing her weight on him.

"Dammit!" Ragnar was caught off guard as he stumbled back to the wall.

Ragnar froze. Then blinked. His back pressed down against the cold wall. And the very air seemed to hold its pulse that moment as the strange woman wrapped her arms around him assertively like an octopus locking a prey.

Ragnar snapped from the haze, pushing the woman off with enough strength— Not to hurt, but to rein

"Get off me," He pushed her off gently. "What the heck are you doing? You're in the male's re...

Ragnar's voice trailed off when the woman took two steps backward, swinging her hair through the air.

Damn!

Her beauty was ravishing. Her face was a creation of perfection, each feature demanding closer attention.

In brief, she was a goddess!

Her hair, black, shimmering under the warm light of the restroom cascaded behind smoothly behind her back. Her face was smooth, as though it was bathed in honey through the previous night. Flawless like a pristine glass.

She had the kind of body only meant for models and magazines front page. A blue fitted peplon dress poured over her like a second skin.

Damn!

Her shape was typical of 'Figure Eight.'

For a heartbeat, the world around them paused as Ragnar took in the Beauty of the woman before her.

Suddenly, "Make love to me," She rasped. Ragnar's eyes narrowed like hed just misheard. He looked into her eyes. It burn with desperation and something deeper. "Make love to me, Please.." She stumbled on Ragnar, pressing him hard against the wall.

Holy moly,

"You're in the..." Ragnar tried to push her off, but his elbow buckled mid-push. Her body crashed on him.

As though that was a cue, she went wild, reaching for Ragnar's collar. With one quick move, like a possessed being, she ripped down the buttons off, leaving his chest naked.

The room hissed as her lips clashed with Ragnar's who couldn't respond due to the shock of the whole intrusion.

"What was this," Ragnar inside screamed. "A rape attempt?"

With finger trembling in desperation, she yanked off her gown down too quickly like the room was too hot for her body to bear the heat.

Ragnar's inside screamed to retaliate— to push her away. This could be anything. It might be a set up for sexual assault.

And again, he moved to push her away when bare skins connected. A spark ignited— electric, pulsing— something long forgotten.

Four years ago during a kidnap crisis at Steelgate City, Ragnar was returning from a convenience store with provisions when an SUV served him down at the sidewalk.

Two Masked men jumped down from the vehicle and hit him into unconsciousness with a gun butt.

Ragnar woke up to find himself in a forgotten city, captured for slavery.

For four years, he slave, trained— secretly trained by an old man called Dojo Barrt who had empires and unparalleled martial art skills.

Ragner's hands manifested in everything Master Dojo taught him. He is a walking relic now, a man to be feared and respected— Not only has he inherited Dojo's Empire out of the old man's kindness, but also he'd perfected his skills.

Ragnar had lost this tingling feeling for long. But the unexpected attachment with a strange woman had just broken something long buried inside of him.

Ragnar is no misogynist, and Neither is he an eunuch.

His blood boiled with raging hormones. His rod jerked to life like it'd broken a spell broken as the woman's hand hovered on him manically.

Their skin connected. Ragnar flinched, a spark jerking him back in shock.

"Heck," His eyes narrowed on he in assessment. He pressed two fingers on her neck in precision.

Ragnar's eyes widened at his discovery. "This woman is going to run mad in the next one hour. She's been poisoned. ..."

Ragnar had detected a strange substance in her blood. A banned root— Lustbane.

Temporary, it causes sexual madness. The extreme consequence is that she's going to go mad if the Lustbane stays longer than an hour in her body.

The woman, completely oblivious to what he was saying, spoke up with desperation burning in her throat. "I'm feeling really hot in here," She dragged down her dress halfway. "Make love to me, please."

Ragnar knew that something mysterious was going aside the poison in her blood. But saving her was the most important thing at the moment.

She jerked him closer. Lips brushed. Breathing ragged and shallow. The restroom hit with a mix of sweats and Cologne. She was possessive, stripping him bare completely. Ragnar's loosened up. He wasn't taking advantage. He was saving the life of a beauty. He dived into her.

"Ahhh..." She screamed, gripping his back.

The moment lasts for 10 minutes, and the woman collapses to the floor in exhaustion.

Ragnar's heart skipped, his manhood loose hanging in the stale air.

He nodded gently. "I knew this was going to happen. She's going to be unconscious for a while." He said, dressing up.

Then suddenly, like everything was spinning back in time. Another,

Bang! Bang!

Damn!

With one fluid move, he yanked a towel to cover the woman on the floor.

What was happening? Who's behind the door this time around? Another beauty?

The door crashed open with a sheer force that shook the frame.

Ragner's eyes narrowed to the door. It was no beauty goddess. It was a man. Tall. His shoulder raised too high against a crisp charcoal suit. A rare timepiece glinted on his wrist with effortless arrogance.

Anger was fully registered on his face like the whole restroom reeks of trash. He looked down at Ragnar like a failed experiment.

Tension rose in the room.

His gaze darted to see the woman on the floor. Shock etched on his face, as his mind spun to understand the situation.

"Cassandra!" He stumbled in, shoving Ragnar to the side. The naked woman, the blood on the fabric, and the musky smell in the room. It was all enough evidence for Caspian Roderick to comprehend whatever had happened in the room.

He spun on Ragnar, anger moulding into pure rage. "Where the fuck did you do to her!!?"

Ragner exhaled sharply, his expression calm and nonchalant. "Listen," He started, smooth and confident. "This might look complicated but I just saved this woman."

Caspian's eyes burn lasers. "You f*ucked my wife and you bastard is telling me you saved her!!?" His finger curled into a tight fist.

Ragnar's brow knitted in disbelief as he stared back and forth from the women back to the man.

"Your woman?" He mused. Then shrugged. "Well, whoever she is to you, you have been careless about her. Do you have an idea that she was drugged?

She could have died, or more embarrassing, run mad. You should be thanking me for saving her life," Ragnar said. "And which responsible man leaves his wife on board for that long, and yet couldn't come looking for her." Ragnar's head tilted. "or did you drug her?"

Caspian's rage exploded.

His plan. Months of meticulous planning and trailing Cassandra's every move had just fallen through at the very last minute. He'd purposely boarded the flight, had a loyal air hostess drug Cassandra's drink with the Lustbane. She'd been chasing her for months, but Cassandra had been resisting all his mischievous moves.

Caspian wanted to force his way with her with the Lustbane . He also took a small quantity of the potent herb juice to measure up to her energy.

But Cassandra disappeared at the last moment. The Lustbane overrides Caspian's sense of humor, and when the effect cleared, he found himself naked on a bed with a man!

A fucking man!