GhostWalkers 10 - Samurai Game

he could see that it was. She moved around behind him. Any other woman might have appeared subservient in the same position, but not Azami. She just looked beautiful and exotic and a miracle to him.
    “I hope you enjoy this ritual, Sammy,” she said, again with that slight shy note in her voice. “This is one I wish to perform nightly.”
    Nightly?
She planned to wash him every night? “Like this?” He might have died in that battle and somehow made his way to heaven. He looked over his shoulder at her. She was working diligently down the column of his thighs.
    Her head lifted to look up at him, those lashes coveringher expression for just one moment, and then he was looking into her eyes. “
Exactly
like this. In your home, you must be cared for, Sam. It is important to me.”
    “Baby, you know that I’ll need to take just as good care of you,” he said gently, warning her that their relationship wasn’t going to be one-sided. He planned to lavish attention on her and she needed to be willing to accept what he had to give. “That’s important to me.”
    She smiled at him, that soft, mysterious smile that had his body as hard as a rock. Wordlessly, he held out his hand for the soap and sponge. She placed both carefully in his hand and turned her back to stand in front of him. Sam closed his eyes again, just to savor the moment. She was so small and delicate, a deceptive package of soft skin, silky hair, and absolute steel. He didn’t urge her to sit on the stool. She was quite a bit shorter than he was; instead, he stood behind and checked the temperature of the water before he allowed it to cascade down her back and over her shoulders.
    He washed her with that same slow, unhurried attention she’d given him, realizing why she had enjoyed the ritual so much. The connection he felt toward her deepened with every stroke of the sponge over her skin. He grew to know the contours of her back, the sweeping curve of her buttocks, and the details of her phoenix rising from the ashes. He scrubbed at the delicate feathers that made up the long curving tail. He took care with her slender neck, massaging the muscle of her shoulders as he washed her, just as she had done for him.
    She sighed softly and when he reached his arms around in front of her, she obediently leaned against his chest. He made certain the water didn’t spray her in the face as he let the water spray over her breasts. He took his time soaping her breasts, lifting each one carefully to thoroughly soap underneath before rinsing her off. Her nipples fit perfectly into the center of his palms. He couldn’t resist leaning down and biting her neck gently, while he cupped her breasts andteased those taut nipples into hard peaks. He felt her breath leave her body, her breasts rise and fall with the same heated need coursing through her veins.
    He understood the slow, sensual dance now, the worshiping of each other’s body, that slow tender care that showed the other that not only were they desired, but they were loved, appreciated, and thoroughly cared for. He
wanted
to serve her in just the way she’d served him. He’d always known he’d never be happy with anything less than a full partnership from a woman. He was intelligent and he was a warrior. Who would have thought he would find the perfect woman? How had he come to be so lucky?
    His hands followed the gossamer lines of her spiderweb. He could feel the ridges of the scars beneath his fingertips. He turned his head so that his mouth was against her ear. “I’m going to take my time eating you like candy.”
    Her breath hitched again as his fingers danced over the spider and rolled her nipples, tugging and teasing as he briefly indulged himself in the body she’d so generously offered him. Reluctantly he left her enticing breasts to slip his hands over her flat belly. She had a washboard stomach beneath her soft woman’s skin. He soaped the tiny little curls guarding her treasures before he urged her thighs apart.
    His hands were big and her thighs small. A surge of male pride shook him. She had given herself to him, put herself into his hands and willingly cast her fate with his. She was an extraordinary woman and yet she had chosen to trust her heart, mind, and body to him. His hand cupped the vee between her legs, a deliberate sensual touch, a brand of ownership in his own way. He didn’t dare linger too long. Small pearly drops beaded the head of his cock, and with every breath he