GW10 Samurai Game

by Christine Feehan

  Her head came up and she looked him in the eyes. “I’m the least human of all with my strange heart and weird DNA strands, but if you really want me and you believe that you can love me, and you’re willing to take a chance with me, I want to be with you, Sam.”

  “Willing to take a chance with you? Love you? Want you? Are you out of your mind, woman?” Sam stood up fast, kicking the chair away from him so he had a clear path to her.

  CHAPTER 14

  Azami found herself laughing as she fended him off. “You’re so impetuous, Sammy. Let me wash my tea things and put them away before you carry me off.”

  “Carry you off?” he echoed. “I thought the kitchen table looked good right about now.”

  When he kept coming, she put up her hand to stop him. “Really, it’s a matter of respect to honor my father and his father. It’s important to me.”

  He crossed his arms over his chest and tapped his foot to signal great impatience as she began to methodically wash the tea utensils and bowls. She didn’t look at him, but kept her back to him, concentrating on the task at hand. He realized she really did pour herself into whatever task she was doing at the time. He waited in silence, secretly enjoying the flowing grace of her hands as she worked.

  When she closed the wooden box and turned to him, leaning her back against the table, she smiled up at him. “Do you really want me so much?”

  He reached past her to take the box from harm’s way and place it gently on the counter. “You have no idea, woman, but I’m about to show you.” He didn’t even care if he sounded as if he was threatening her. He needed some control here, and not in the way she was controlled.

  He didn’t like the idea of her thinking of leaving him. He knew he could tie her to him if she just gave him a chance. He couldn’t be this sure and not be right.

  “I don’t know the first thing about this,” she confided.

  Sam stepped close to her, towering over her. “I do, Azami. Be sure this time because I won’t be able to take stopping in the middle of everything again. If you want me to use protection, we’ll do that. I have no worries about having a child with you, unless you’re afraid of your heart giving out. With or without children, I want to spend my life with you. So you tell me what you want.”

  She looked up at him from under all those long, feathery lashes, sending his heart rate accelerating. “I held Daniel in my arms and rocked him to sleep and cried the entire time,” she admitted softly. “I want to try, but I’m afraid.”

  He drew her into the shelter of his arms. “We’ll talk to Lily about this, Azami. She knows what it’s like to be afraid for her child. And Jack and Briony can help set your mind at ease as well.”

  She bit her lip and nodded. “I had no idea I would have the choice to have a husband and perhaps a baby. My brothers told me of course it was possible and I should consider such a thing, but I won’t be with someone who doesn’t know what—and who—I am. I make no apologies for my need to stop Whitney. Experimenting on adults is monstrous enough, but children?” She shook her head. “I can’t let him continue.”

  Sam lifted her, cradling her against his chest. She was featherlight, warm and soft. “I know you inside and out and I want every inch of you. I’ve made my mind up, Azami. I’ve thrown myself into the ring completely, and I’m in it for the duration.”

  Azami lifted her fingers to his strong jaw. That beloved face. Those dark, serious eyes. All that curly hair. Hers. Was it possible? How had it even happened? She’d done such a terrible thing, going to bed with him and stopping him right in the middle of things. No one had ever made her feel as he did. Out of control—but in a good way. She hadn’t even known it was possible. Sam Johnson. She’d read everything she could about him in his files. Right from the moment she’d read his impressive education and his equally impressive missions, she’d been intrigued. She just hadn’t admitted it to herself.

  “I am usually very good at making up my mind and sticking to my decisions,” she said.

  Sam laughed, the sound slipping beneath whatever guard she might have left and teasing her senses into complete compliance. This man, behind closed doors, would always be hers. He opened up his mind and his heart to her. He made her feel beautiful and worthwhile. Even more, he treated her as a complete equal on the battlefield. He would always have protective instincts, but she liked that about him.

  The house was dark other than the candles she’d lit in the bedroom, and Sam carried her close to him as he made his way unerringly through the house. The doorways were wide and ceilings high to accommodate his frame, but he moved in silence, reminding her he was as skilled as she was.

  “We’d better never get into a huge fight,” she teased.

  “That could be bad,” Sam agreed as he set her on the floor beside his bed. “I’m taking these pins out of your hair. Am I going to stab my finger on something and die from instant poisoning, because I need to see your hair down?”

  He grasped an intricately painted porcelain hair pin and tugged. The long pin was a slender round cylinder, and when he pulled it loose, strands of hair fell like a waterfall down her back. The pin looked innocent enough, but he didn’t trust it. Azami looked innocent and she was a dangerous woman. He would bet his last dollar this work of art was very lethal.

  Azami smiled at him and held out her hand. “The pins with cherry blossoms are used in up close fighting or perhaps a quick jab as one passes the enemy on the street. Just press twice and the needle is here.” She pointed to the end of the pin. “It would feel much like the sting of a tiny insect if felt at all and they are dead.”

  “Woman.” Sam grinned at her, blood heating at the mere idea of her abilities. She was everything he’d ever dreamt of. “I think I’m fast becoming obsessed with you. What about this one?” He pulled a dark red pin from her hair. The porcelain was decorated with lacy leaves winding up the cylinder. “Dark red is for … ?”

  “Blowgun. It works quite well up to about twenty-five feet. After that, no real accuracy, but handy in a pinch.” She placed the dark red pin carefully on the nightstand beside the cherry blossom pin.

  He pulled another pin loose and more hair snaked down over her shoulder. This one was black with a golden dragon curling around it. “And this one?”

  She shrugged one shoulder. “Arrows. For my mini crossbow.”

  Her casual answer, given in that low, husky voice sent another rush of heat spreading through his veins. His blood turned to magma, hot and thick with need.

  There was one red pin, three dragon and three cherry blossom pins. Sam pulled each one out slowly, watching the way her hair cascaded down her back in a silky waterfall. He found her incredibly sexy, a mixture of lethal and fragile. Her hair snaked down her back to her waist in another glorious miracle of womanly wiles. He’d had no idea her hair was so long. However she managed to pin it up with seven ornate weapons was simply another mystery.

  His hands dropped to the buttons of the shirt she wore. His knuckles brushed bare skin, that soft swell of her breast he found as fascinating as her weapons. He kept his gaze locked with hers. He needed to stroke all that silken skin. His need had continued to grow with every moment in her company until his erection was a continual aching need. She wanted him, he could see it in the way she ate him up with her dark eyes. A slight flush crept up her neck to her face and her breath left her lungs in a ragged rush.

  “I’m starving for the taste of you,” he admitted aloud, craving her. He’d waited so long. A lifetime. She’d been under his body, in his arms, his face buried between her legs, and he still hadn’t managed to have her. Nothing could go wrong this time. He had to have her.

  He pushed the edges of the shirt over her shoulders and let it drop to the floor. A little slip of a woman, yet she’d captured his heart so completely. He hadn’t known he craved a wife and family, a place to call home. Hell. He’d refused to acknowledge that he was lonely. He’d set himself on a path of duty and told himself he would never have tho
se things, so why long for them? And then she’d calmly gone into battle with him, no hysterics, no drama, just getting the job done with as much skill as—or more than—any soldier he’d gone into battle with.

  Her hands trembled as she ran them up his belly to his chest. He captured both and pressed a kiss into each palm as desire punched low and hard, taking his breath. He’d never known need to be so urgent, or lust to be laced with such tenderness.

  “I won’t survive this night if I can’t have you,” he admitted, drawing her closer to him, so that her body melted against his. “I want you that much.”

  Her eyes met his. “I want you that much too,” she confessed. “I wanted you from the moment I felt your mind in mine. I knew it was you. I just didn’t trust the future.”

  “But you trust me,” he coached.

  She bit her bottom lip and nodded slowly, her eyes enormous.

  His hands went to her hair, that thick mass of silky black as he bent his head, his mouth taking possession of hers to catch that soft, breathy sigh. He kissed her over and over, savoring the taste of her, the velvet sweetness, the fiery spice that caught his blood on fire. His cock pressed hard against her belly as her hands caught at his shoulders for support. He moved his hips, thrusting gently, rhythmically, while small rockets roared in his brain at the sensation. Her tongue tangled with his, her nails sinking into the muscle of his shoulders while her body trembled.

  He didn’t want to wait this time. Nothing could go wrong. Kissing her senseless was the only answer, but the soft musical moans and the way her body rubbed against his threatened a loss of control he couldn’t afford. He lowered her to the mattress, unbuttoning his jeans with one hand and tugging at them to get them the hell off.

  He followed her down, not wanting to lose contact, not wanting to give her too much time to think—or panic. He could see the need burning, but also a little apprehension. He covered her body with his, careful to keep most of his weight off of her as he kissed her. The feel of her small, soft body, all feminine curves and soft, melting skin, only added to the fever raging in him.

  He stared down at her body, those sweet curves emphasized by the delicate spiderweb stretched across her narrow rib cage, riding up and over her breasts and down the slope of her belly to stop just above the temptation of dark curls at the junction of her legs. He found that spiderweb sexy, permanent lacy lingerie drawing attention to her silky skin and soft curves. Her flushed breasts rose and fell with her ragged breathing, her nipples, twin hard peaks. That little red-backed spider moved with every breath she drew in and let out.

  He bent his head slowly and swiped his tongue over her nipple, just to watch the spider jump in anticipation. She sucked in her breath and beneath his hand, her stomach muscles bunched and her hips jumped beneath his, sending heat spiraling through his body.

  “Sammy.” She whispered his name, desire drenching her voice. Her body shuddered with pleasure, her eyes glazing.

  He lowered his head and suckled, drawing her nipple into the heat of his mouth, ravenous for her. Her husky little whimper destroyed his control and he simply indulged himself, his tongue flicking her nipple while he sucked, his hand tugging and rolling at the nipple of her other breast. Her hands fisted in his hair, her body arching, pushing her breasts closer, deeper into his hungry mouth.

  He wanted to devour her. The writhing of her body, her head tossing on the pillow and her bucking hips, drove him deeper under her spell. She was so responsive, so soft, her skin hot silk, rubbing across his near-bursting cock until he could barely think or breathe with his need of her. A growl escaped, a primitive sound rumbling from somewhere deep inside of him.

  His hand slipped across her stomach, feeling her muscles, edging lower until he found her slender thigh. His hand could nearly wrap around her leg and he took in as much territory as possible, gripping hard for a moment, pinning her restless leg to the sheets while his tongue and teeth ravaged her breast.

  Azami stilled, her eyes widening in a kind of dazed shock. He continued to suckle, his eyes wide-open, staring into hers. She was so beautiful, her silky hair everywhere, her skin flushed, and her breasts heaving.

  Mine. He pushed the word into her mind, needing her to acknowledge his possession.

  Completely. She didn’t hesitate.

  His gaze holding hers, his hand slipped between her thighs, sliding through damp silk. She cried out, a soft, broken sound, her body jerking with shock as his fingers dipped shallowly. Her eyes went liquid dark, her head tossing on the pillow again as the tension in her body grew with his every movement.

  That little spider moved enticingly again and he licked at it, stroking the spot with his tongue as his fingers slid deeper into hot, slick cream. She was so beautiful, writhing beneath him, her skin flushed and her breath ragged. He couldn’t wait another minute. She’d given herself to him, said she was his, and he intended to indulge himself. He wanted all that hot cream for himself. He was losing his mind a little, the fever of need so great, his hunger wild now. Truthfully, he wasn’t certain he could have stopped had she asked him a second time.

  He kissed his way along that spiderweb, all those delicate threads mapping her body for him. He would know every strand intimately. Lapping at her skin, teeth nipping, he circled her clit with a long, thick finger.

  Sammy! Her voice slipped into his mind. Hungry. Shocked. Breathless. She repeated it again and again, a musical chant as he made his way down her body, taking in every inch of her.

  I’ve got you, baby. He wanted to bind her with more than sex, with love, with tenderness. He just had to hold on to his wild cravings and go slow, make certain her body was ready for him. He was absolutely determined to make her first time with him the same paradise as it would be for him.

  He sank a finger into her damp depth, shocked at how small and tight she was. The clenching of her muscles only added to the raging need radiating through his body. Her eyes were wide-open again, glittering with a fever of desire to match his own.

  Azami stared up at Sam’s face, at the sensuality carved so deep in every line. His eyes were pure hunger, predatory almost, and it should have scared her, the intensity of his desire. She was nervous, yes, but only because she didn’t want to disappoint him. She was thrilled that he looked at her that way. His desire had to be real, no one could fake that expression. She was amazed and gratified that the sight of her scarred body and misshapen breast didn’t repulse him. The need in him was apparent, stamped into his face, alive in his eyes. He was hanging on to his control by a mere thread. It was impossible not to respond to that need.

  He shifted his body and a rush of heat flared like a sunburst. She tightened her hold on his shoulders, feeling his muscles bunch beneath her fingers. Against her thigh she could feel the white-hot brand of his heavy erection. Curls sprang around his head, his hair disheveled and sexy from her fists. His eyes were so dark, held so much love, and his face so much torment she had no defenses at all.

  I’ve fallen in love with you, she admitted shyly.

  A slow, satisfied smile curved his hard mouth. His fingers moved over her lips, down her breasts to trace a thread across her stomach and back up to her breasts. She drew in her breath sharply as he sucked on her nipple, licked, and then kissed his way up to her lips. She opened her mouth to his at his silent insistence, her tongue twining with his. He moved, his chest rubbing along her nipples, sensitive from his attention. His hard shaft pulsed and jerked against her thigh in urgent need, adding to her growing excitement.

  Love is a terrible word to describe the way I feel about you. But I’m going to try to show you. He sounded so tormented she moved her body against his, giving herself to him in the only way she knew how.

  He kissed his way to her breasts, her belly button, spreading small kisses and bites and then licking away the sting all along the threads of the web and down to her thighs. Each nip of those strong teeth and rasping of his tongue over the sting sent spirals of heat curling through her body
and rushes of hot liquid spilling between her legs. Everywhere he touched, kissed, and nipped, thousands of tiny sparks burst under her skin, creating a terrible fire that refused to be quenched. She couldn’t keep her body still, writhing beneath him, her hips lifting to reach him, her breasts pushing hard against his chest. She wanted. Plain and simple, she wanted.

  His lips teased the bunching muscles along her belly, his tongue dipping into her belly button. I need a spider right here, baby. His teeth bit gently at the top of the vee of curls. I really want another spider here as well. He licked at the spot over and over, before catching her thighs in his large hands and drawing them apart. I’ve been starving for you, Azami. I was planning to get your body ready for me, but this is all for me. I just need this, so you’ll have to be patient will I indulge myself.

  She couldn’t catch her breath. His sexy words, his sensual tone, and the demand in his dark tone sent fingers of arousal teasing her thighs. He lifted her bottom up with his two hands, his palms hot and possessive. He sent her one last look from his dark eyes and lowered his head. His tongue swiped through her curls and she gasped, a soft, broken cry escaping.

  Azami couldn’t think, could hardly breathe as he ate her, licking and sucking and sending sensation after sensation crashing through her. She was mindless with arousal, gripping his hair with her fists as he pushed his tongue deep, stabbing into her over and over. She couldn’t stay still, even though he ordered her to twice in a gravelly, warning tone. It was impossible to obey, not with his teeth teasing her clit, his tongue laving and then suckling again.

  Tension built fast and sharp, a firestorm raged, and she writhed insanely, bucking, near sobbing with pleas for more. Her body began to spin out of control, winding tighter and tighter, climbing higher and higher until, when his finger sank deep and his tongue flicked, she flew apart, her body fragmenting, rockets going off in her head.