Shipwrecked with Mr. Wrong - By Nikki Logan Page 0,40

lungful of air and then he rolled her back above him. She blew out her snorkel as though she’d been doing it all her life.

The movement put their bodies intimately close. Honor had seen dolphins do exactly the same thing as a prelude to mating. Her eyes drank him in. He slowed in the water and momentum carried her overhead, his mask passing just centimetres from her chest, her belly.

Then he kicked his fins and moved back up along her body the same way, his thumbs splayed, running from her midriff over her breasts to her shoulders. Her body tightened sharply and she longed for him to brush back across it. Behind his mask, his molten eyes saw everything.

He crushed her to him and rolled again, refilling his lungs. Her breathing was shallow and fast when she resurfaced, but it wasn’t from fear.

His mask prevented him getting any closer to her skin and so his hands did the work. She watched, hypnotised, as his fingers moved along her ribs with gentle fascination. She knew then she’d wanted that light touch for herself since first seeing him use it on the Emden memorial. Where his fingers went, she imagined his lips. The same lips as last night. He stopped kicking again and let her drift overhead, past him. His fingers traced down her belly, over her hips to her thighs, then along her calves to her trailing feet.

Her eyes fluttered shut.

At the very last second, his lips touched her ankle, feeding along the delicate bones in her feet. The hot, wet contact was dizzyingly stimulating and Honor tucked her legs under her, broke from the now shallow water and yanked off her mask and snorkel.

Rob surfaced, ripping his own mask off, kicking out of his flippers and bracing his feet on the sandy floor below. He gathered her to him greedily and took her waiting mouth. Honor wrapped her arms around his strong shoulders and kissed him back with everything she had. Their sensuous water play had strung her as tightly as a bow. The heat of his mouth was a contrast to the cool saltwater that splashed against her face. The gentle waves did nothing to quench the flames bursting back into life between them.

She moved against his mouth, dragging her lips up and down. In turn, he bit the tender flesh of her bottom lip, soft enough not to bruise, hard enough to send her pulse into overdrive. She’d never experienced this violent surge of feeling. It was almost too much. She panted his name—half wanton, half confused—and buried her face into his shoulder.

He heard her tone and slowed, wrapping his arms around her and crushing her to him. He moved them towards shore and, as the water shallowed, he tucked an arm under her knees and lifted her, still curled into his shoulder. She tightened her arms around his neck as weightlessness dropped away.

The towel she’d laid out was sun-baked and crisp against her back. He laid her gently against it, her face exposed to the sun’s kiss.

And Rob’s.

Blue eyes burned into hers and water dripped from his hair, his face, as it lowered to resume the passionate kiss, his body half over hers. The intensity of her need frightened her but her body knew exactly what to do. It pressed eagerly against his and exploded into flames deep inside.

The unfamiliar sensation was enough to get her attention for the bare moments she needed to think about what they were doing. One part of her—a deep seated part—begged her to stop, to protect herself. But another part pushed its way to the fore and demanded for release after so long in darkness. It was a part that she’d never shown her husband. Feelings that had overwhelmed her when she was younger. Feelings she’d spent a lifetime suppressing.

It saw its mate in Rob’s fiery passion and it exulted.

The fact that every part of her wanted to close the distance between them was enough to force her into consciousness. She stiffened immediately.

Rob didn’t miss it. ‘Honor...’

Was that confident, cocky, experienced Rob sounding so vulnerable? She opened her eyes and gasped at the desire she saw reflected in his. Raw emotion. Hesitation. Her stomach flipped at the unexpected expression. He looked just like she felt—truly, entirely and thoroughly aroused. She couldn’t remember ever feeling that way with Nate.

Nate and, trailing by a split second, Justin.

Images of her husband roared through her mind. The only man she’d ever been intimate with. The