this moment with this woman.
“Look at me.”
Emmi opened her eyes. More tears slid down her cheeks, but she shakingly met his gaze.
He tilted the blade of the tanto away from her throat and stared into her eyes. He’d killed traitors before, and he’d seen the deceit lingering in the backs of their eyes even as they professed their innocence. The woman who’d lied to his father about Koyuki had had that look of betrayal in her own eyes before his father had killed her.
Even through the sheen of watery tears, Kae knew the look in the depths of Emiko’s eyes was nothing like those of the true betrayers. He put the tanto away then gently wiped away her tears with the pads of his thumbs.
Maybe I am Alice stuck in a topsy-turvy world , Emmi thought when Kaemon kissed the spot where he’d nicked her throat. First he wanted to kill her, now he wanted to comfort her. It made no sense, but, for the life of her, Emmi couldn’t push him away.
When he leaned in to kiss her, she didn’t even try to make sense of it anymore. All that mattered was the fire that seeped into her blood when his lips met hers. She’d never been kissed like this. This was a man’s kiss, not the kiss of the boys back home who were too intimidated by her father to ever dare take possession of her mouth the way Kae was doing.
He broke the kiss long enough to gaze into her eyes before he captured her lips with his again. He slid his mouth from hers to kiss a trail to her chin then down her neck. He licked the small cut he’d given her.
“Forgive me,” he whispered before teasing her with featherlight kisses up and down her neck.
Emmi breathed a long soft sigh and arched into his touch when he slid his hands along her midriff. He drew back to look at her again, and Emmi melted inside from the intensity of his gaze. She shifted, and the boards beneath her feet creaked softly. They creaked again when Kae changed his own stance and removed the sack holding the mirror.
He set it on the floor beside her and gripped her waist, his hands snaking inside the side slits of the hakama she wore.
Emmi whimpered when he cupped her rear through the soft fabric of the yukata and again when he pulled her hips toward his. She could feel his erection but was too lightheaded from the pleasure to consider the consequences.
“You must be some type of oni,” he said before kissing her neck again. “What magic do you use to make me behave this way?”
“I-I’m not—”
He chuckled, and Emmi felt embarrassment flame her cheeks. The instant he peered intently into her eyes, the heat coursing through her body settled itself deep within her center, and she shivered.
He grinned, and Emmi was certain she heard a muffled growl rumble in his chest. He claimed her mouth with his once more. His tongue sought out hers, teasing her, coaxing her, while he slipped his hands inside the hakama again to part the thin yukata.
Emmi shivered again when Kaemon’s rough fingers glided over her belly and hips. She barely noticed the squeaking of the floorboards as he strummed a gentle rhythm over her burning flesh. He hesitated when his fingers brushed the stretch lace of her panties, but then he slipped his fingers beneath the thin fabric. With slow precision he stroked and caressed, pressed and prodded her sex until she was quaking beneath his experienced touch.
Common sense screamed that this was a bad idea, but she was powerless to resist. Maybe he was the demon who had her under a spell. She barely heard the creaking boards any longer, never paid attention to the sound of the hidden panel sliding open until Kaemon stiffened and stopped dead.
“Why am I not surprised to find my son here?” an annoyed male voice asked from behind Kaemon. “So your taste is running to young pages these days, is it? This is exactly why I told you not to befriend Takeda Kanryuusai and the rest of that Mibu-ro trash.”
Kaemon sucked in his breath and Emmi tried to shrink back into the
Learning to Kill: Stories