Samurai Game (Ghostwalkers, #10)(87)
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 those 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.