Samurai Game (GhostWalkers #10)(23)
Author: Christine Feehan

Thorn had no choice but to wrap her arms around him and hang on as the ground beneath her feet rolled. He poured into her mind, hot and strong and determined to claim her for his. She felt the hilt of the knife digging into her palm and she took a better grip until she felt him giving himself to her. Fully. Everything. He opened to her. Let her into his mind. He was giving every bit as much as he was taking.

The world he opened for her was pure sensation. Pleasure burst through her like a hot firestorm. She felt her body melting into his, felt his heart beat, every breath he took, as if they were one person instead of two. Her mouth seemed to belong to him instead of her, kissing him back with a fiery passion she hadn’t known she was capable of.

Sam knew he was in dangerous territory, but he couldn’t stop himself. He had to taste her. No, if he was being honest, the terrible need to kiss her was far more than simply tasting her. He needed to claim her for his own. The urge had been growing in him from the moment he’d first set eyes on her. The more he was with her in such an extreme situation, the more he admired her. He found himself waiting for her smile, for the way her eyes lit up and the sun set streaks of light playing wildly through all that sleek, black hair.

He found himself needing to drop everything, strip himself bare of all shields to let her inside, no matter how bad the idea was. The moment his mouth came down on hers, he knew he was too aggressive, especially with that soft little admission—I’ve never kissed anyone—making his heart pound and hot blood pool low and vicious. But he couldn’t stop. She tasted—like heaven. Everything disappeared around him, dropping away until there was only Azami with her soft skin, silky hair, and that elusive scent that drove him mad.

He fully expected the woman to stab him through the heart with her dagger. He could see the fear in her eyes just before his lips came down on hers, and it would never do to frighten a woman like Azami Yoshiie. She was a warrior through and through. Duty and honor were uppermost in her character. Control mattered, just as it did to him, and he was taking them both to a place neither could control.

Risking his life didn’t matter to him. Only kissing her did. He merged with her in some undefined way, so that hot passion pounded through both of them. His hand slipped into that thick silk and bunched, holding her still for him, the other finding her slender neck, his fingers splayed wide to take in her soft skin. He poured himself into her, filling her, his tongue dueling with hers while they both drowned in sensual need.

Azami shuddered, her lips trembling, and then she consumed him as aggressively and as honestly as he did her. He felt her inside of his mind, running like lava through his veins, wrapping around his heart and filling his very bones with her.

“This is madness,” she whispered against his mouth when they both came up for air. Her dark eyes searched his face.

Sam didn’t have any answers. He knew she was right. They might be on opposite sides in a deadly war, yet he couldn’t let her go. She fit with him. The world around them was out of sync, not the two of them.

“I know,” he admitted as he rested his forehead against hers, looking into her eyes.

“What are we going to do now?”

A slow smile curved his mouth. “I really expected you to kill me so I wouldn’t have to figure that part out.”

She blinked, her black fan of thick silky lashes fluttering as wildly as her heart. She moistened her lips. “You’re not getting off that easily.”

Sam watched the dawning smile, the way her soft mouth curved and the warmth spread to her dark eyes with absolute fascination. “Well. Damn.” He looked around, feeling as though he was coming back from a great distance. “We have a forest of dead bodies, a disposal team on the way, and you haven’t asked a single question, Azami. Does this happen a lot when you take orders for your satellites?”

“First time. But I always come prepared.” There was a teasing, mischievous note in her voice that slipped through every defense and aimed straight at his heart.

He knew he needed to release her, but once he allowed his physical connection to drop away, he was uncertain if he’d ever have a chance to reconnect. Instinctively, he knew Azami was elusive, like water flowing through fingers, or the wind shifting in the trees. He needed a way to seal her to him.

“How does one court a woman in Japan? Do I need your brothers’ permission?”

She blinked again. Shocked. A hint of uncertainty crept into her eyes. She frowned, and he bent his head to swallow her protest before she could utter it. Her mouth trembled beneath his, and then she opened to him, like a flower, luring him deeper. Her arms slid around his neck, her body pressing tightly against his. He tightened his fingers in her hair.

He was burning, through and through, from the inside out, a hot melting of bone and tissue. He hadn’t known he was lonely or even looking for something. He’d been complete. He loved his life. He was a man with teammates he trusted implicitly. He lived in wild places of beauty he enjoyed. He hadn’t considered there would be a woman who could ever fit with him, who would ever turn his insides soft and his body hard.

Feel the same way, Azami. He didn’t lift his mouth, kissing her again and again because once he’d made the mistake, he was addicted and what was the use fighting it? Not when it felt so damn right.

Somewhere along the line, his kiss went from sheer aggression and command, to absolute tenderness. The emotion for her rose like a volcano, encompassing him entirely, drawn from some part of him he’d never known even existed. His mouth was gentle, his hands on her, possessive, yet just as gentle. Another claiming, this coming from that deep unknown well.

Feel the same way, Azami, he whispered into her mind. An enticement. A need. He waited, something in him going still, waiting for her answer.

Tell me how you’re feeling?

She hadn’t pulled away. If anything, her arms had tightened around his neck. He shared every single breath she took, feeling the slight movement of her rib cage and br**sts against him, the warm air they exchanged.

Like I’m burning alive. Drowning. Like I never want this moment to end. He wasn’t a man to say flowery things to a woman, nor did he even think them, but he shared the honest truth with her. Like we belong.

Once he let her go, the world would slip back into kilter. He wanted her to stay with him, to give him a chance with her.

She didn’t hesitate, and he loved that about her as well. She gave herself in truth in the same way he did. I feel the same, but one of us has to be sane.