GhostWalkers 10 - Samurai Game

a damn about trying to find a way out. As his palm covered her mound, his thumb sliding deep into her sheath, she flushed, her body growing hotter. Her eyes went wide with shock and her breath turned ragged, but she parted her thighs wider for him.
    “It’s all right,” he soothed. “You’re safe with me, Azami. We’ll do this together.”
    He didn’t think he’d survive that long. His body had never raged at him like this, never made such demands. The candlelight made her skin glow and the threads of the spiderweb actually appeared luminous, a trick of the ink. Watching her, mesmerized by her reaction, he slid his finger into that slick heat. She was tight and hot, and with her small body writhing under his, all that silky skin rubbing against him, he feared he might lose his mind.
    He talked to her to keep sane, to keep from being aprimitive idiot when she needed to be introduced into the world of lovemaking gently. “I dreamt of you when I was young, back on the streets. So long ago, Azami. I would spend the night huddled in a doorway, afraid I’d have to kill someone to stay alive, hungry, alone, and when I’d be so tired I couldn’t stay awake, I’d be with you. You were so beautiful and exotic and unattainable, and at the same time, the only solace I had.”
    “I dreamt of you too,” she admitted softly, her voice barely above a whisper. “I never thought to find a man I would want to share my body with.” She lifted her head and waited until their eyes met. “A man who would see me in spite of my flaws.” She brought her hand up a little self-consciously to her misshapen breast. The scars zigzagged across the soft mound and just to the side of the nipple, where the spider resided, in that small nook where a small part of her breast was missing. The scar was shiny white beneath the spider.
    Sam bent his head to brush kisses across that spider. “The only flaw you have, my beautiful Azami, is that you didn’t find me sooner.”
    Azami laughed softly, but her eyes were overbright and tears shimmered on her long lashes. “Only you could say that. Even my father did not think that. He said I would have to learn to curb my temper. I spent many hours scrubbing the floor of our dojo for losing my temper and nearly taking off the head of my brother when practicing.”
    Sam nibbled his way up to her chin. “Did you chase him around with your sword?” He moved his finger deep inside her, stretching her enough to add a second finger.
    He took possession of her mouth, catching that breathy little moan. He kissed her over and over, savoring the sweet taste of her and the way her lips were soft and firm and her tongue danced with his. He lifted his head enough to kiss the corners of her eyes, removing those tiny, sparkling tears.
    “Did you? Did you chase your brother with a sword?”
    “Yes.” Azami lowered her gaze, clearly ashamed.
    Sam laughed. “I knew it. What did he do?” “He teased me about my white hair and I wanted to chop all of his hair from his head. Father made me scrub the dojo from top to bottom.”
    “That seems fair to me, shaving his head, I mean.” She shook her head. “No, Father was right. I was learning to be quite lethal and I needed to hold my temper over silly matters. Although, I have to say, I was quite secretly pleased when the next time I saw Daiki, his hair was chopped off. He did it himself when he saw me punished.”
    Sam kissed her neck and then branded her there before kissing his way down to her tempting breasts again and tracing his way along her ribs back to her belly button. His teeth nipped occasionally, his tongue swirling, dancing over her bunching muscles. Her soft moans were like music to him, playing through his body and stroking caresses in his mind. He kissed her belly button and slid lower, inhaling her exotic fragrance. His dreams hadn’t been this good. Nothing was this good. He parted her thighs and bent his head to lap at her slick crease.
    Azami cried out and clutched at his hair, tossing her head back and forth on the pillow. She tasted as good as he knew she would, an addicting, exciting blend of spice. He took his time, indulging himself, bringing her to a fever pitch of need.

C HAPTER 13

    T ears burned behind Azami’s eyes. She had never thought to feel this kind of passion—or this kind of love. Her breath came in long, ragged, labored rushes. Her body was no longer her own but Sam’s, and she gave herself willingly, yet there