GhostWalkers 10 - Samurai Game

long, luxurious lashes. He took his time massaging her shoulders before sliding his hands to cup her breasts. The oil disappeared quite fast, just as she’d said it would, leaving her skin softer and silkier than ever.
    Watching her face, he brushed his thumbs over her nipples, saw the flush creeping under her skin and her heightened breathing. “Are you afraid, Azami?” he asked. It was a legitimate question. He wasn’t a small man, and she was quite diminutive by comparison.
    “A little nervous,” she admitted, “but I want you quite badly.”
    He expected nothing less than her honesty. Azami didn’t have it in her to play personal games with him. She would tell him what she wanted and provide for his needs as best she could. He knew the ritual bath had helped to calm her nerves and allow her to familiarize herself with his body while allowing him to see hers.
    “I love this spider,” he whispered and lifted his head so he could taste the oil.
    As he expected, some previous ancestor had considered that a husband and wife would be anointed with the oil and want to consummate their marriage bed. Her skin was more than just pleasant, it held a hint of cinnamon, citrus, and maybe apple. He would never forget the smell of her skin or the way she looked with the flickering light dancing overher. He took possession of her breast, drawing the soft flesh into the heat of his mouth.
    She let out a soft sigh and bunched her fist in his hair. He teased her nipple gently, his mouth moving over that intriguing spider guarding his woman. “I’m going to roll us over, baby,” he said softly.
    He wanted her under him. She’d shown him her world and now he was going to introduce her to his. She nodded and straightened her legs as he caught her around the waist and rolled, pulling her small frame beneath his. The oil on their bodies made them both so silky smooth their skin seemed to caress one another as they shifted and moved. He caught the quick nervousness in her eyes and immediately lowered his head, kissing her mouth over and over until she went boneless and pliant beneath him.
    “Would you feel safer with a dagger in your hand?” he asked as he kissed his way to the tip of her breast.
    “I’m safe with you,” she said. “This is new to me, just as the ritual bath was new to you.”
    “I’ll make your experience every bit as wonderful as you did for me,” he promised. She was nervous, yes, and maybe, just maybe, there was that little hint of fear for the unknown, but she trusted him.
    Sam bent his head to her flat belly and began tracing the delicate lines of the spiderweb with his tongue and lips the way he’d wanted to from the first moment he’d laid eyes on her tattoo. His tongue swirled in her intriguing belly button and moved again to trace her ribs.
    “You need another spider right here by your belly button for me to tease,” he whispered against her skin.
    His body wanted to go fast and take her, burying himself deep over and over, but another part of him wanted to savor her in that same unhurried way she’d built such anticipation. He wanted her soft, breathless cries pleading with him. He wanted her so ready for him there would be little discomfort to her.
    Her stomach muscles bunched and rippled beneath hisexploring hand and mouth, her breasts rising and falling as his mouth moved closer. His heart nearly exploded when her mind slipped into his, a little hesitant at first, as if she needed reassurance that he wanted the added intimacy. She would know then—he wouldn’t be able to hide what she meant to him. He wanted her with every breath in his body. He needed her just as he needed air to breathe, and he didn’t even know how it happened.
    Something had happened when their minds connected, out there on the battlefield, and when she’d left his mind, she’d taken a part of him with her. The slow ritual bath had only deepened that bond, pushing his desire so far, creating a hunger so endless for her that it clawed and raked at him. He caught her hands and drew them around his neck, lifting his head to look down at her face. Her eyes were wide-open, and he could see the passion and desire shining back at him. The same hunger clawed at her. He lowered his head to kiss her again, sharing her breath, sharing his mind, one hand sliding down all that smooth skin to find the vee between her legs.
    She was all heat and dampness. A private sanctuary for him to get lost in—and he didn’t give