Page 112 of Evil Hearts

Ten

T he moment his lips met hers, Oriana knew it was the best decision she’d made in years. A decade, maybe. Because what his voice could do to her was nothing compared to the power his lips had over her body with just a single kiss.

She forgot about Hunter and her honeymoon and the rest of the world. Hunter’s wife would never know the joy of kissing Swaran on a volcano, or the feel of his strong arms wrapping around her, holding her up when she threatened to swoon for real this time. She breathed a silent apology to every romance novel cover she’d ever dissed in the past, because she’d never be able to look at a man’s chest in a half unbuttoned white shirt again without her underwear melting as she remembered this moment.

Then came a second kiss, and a third, and she was utterly lost.

Along with her shirt, and her shorts, until Swaran laid her down naked and stared down hungrily between her parted thighs.

“I will not steal your virtue, Miss Oriana, though I wish to plunder you as lustily as any pirate. I will give you so much pleasure that you will forget about treasure of any kind, I promise you.” His fingers stroked her thighs, a tantalising tickle when she wanted so much more. His hot breath whispered across her most private parts. “And I will drink my fill of your pleasure.”

Holy hell, if this was what being plundered by a pirate felt like, Oriana didn’t want to even imagine getting naked with anyone else. His lips, his hands, every muscle in his body as he bared himself to her, and every stroke…

She moaned. She screamed. She begged. And she drank him in, every part of him, until she thought she’d had her fill, and still he had more to give. So she took everything he gave her and more, greedy for the sort of sexual satisfaction she’d thought only existed in books. The sort of books that had men like Swaran on the cover. Only no romance book could possibly do him justice.

Afterwards, when she lay enveloped in hot, hard muscle, so utterly sated she could barely move even if she’d wanted to, she couldn’t believe half the things they’d done. Positions she hadn’t thought possible, and they’d even made use of the coconut oil, in ways that brought a hot blush to her cheeks, because of how much she’d enjoyed it.

As she drifted off to sleep, her last thought was that she’d experienced more orgasms in one night than the woman who’d almost been Hunter’s wife had gotten in the last decade. She could only hope that there would be even more in the morning.