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Chapters (64)
  1. Cover
  2. Copyright
  3. Author's Note
  4. Dedication
  5. Epigraph
  6. 1
  7. 2
  8. 3
  9. 4
  10. 5
  11. 6
  12. 7
  13. 8
  14. 9
  15. 10
  16. 11
  17. 12
  18. 13
  19. 14
  20. 15
  21. 16
  22. 17
  23. 18
  24. 19
  25. 20
  26. 21
  27. 22
  28. 23
  29. 24
  30. 25
  31. 26
  32. 27
  33. 28
  34. 29
  35. 30
  36. 31
  37. 32
  38. 33
  39. 34
  40. 35
  41. 36
  42. 37
  43. 38
  44. 39
  45. 40
  46. 41
  47. 42
  48. 43
  49. 44
  50. 45
  51. 46
  52. 47
  53. 48
  54. 49
  55. 50
  56. 51
  57. 52
  58. 53
  59. 54
  60. 55
  61. 56
  62. Other Books by Pam Godwin
  63. About Pam Godwin
  64. Don't miss out!

My breath fled as I flattened my palms on his chest, shuddering at the hard heat of him. His body was an effigy of chiseled art, an omnipotent sculpture to be coveted and revered. By the eternal God, I wanted to rub up against him, climb him like an animal, and ride him until I reached nirvana.

My plan didn’t require me to fuck him. But dammit, what would be the harm? Would it be so bad to escape the loneliness for a little while? Just an hour or two of mindless bliss? I could still have him chained in the bilge by morning.

My body decided for me, rushing heat between my legs and spasming inner muscles. My hand moved on its own, slipping between us and gripping his swollen length through the thin breeches.

“God’s blood.” He groaned against my throat, and his teeth sank in, laying siege to delicate skin and nerve endings.

I curled my fingers around his girth and explored the thick shape of him, thrilling in the way he jerked and throbbed in my fist. “You feel positively feral, Mr. Farrell.”

He choked on his next breath and lifted his head. “It’s been two years, Mrs. Farrell.”

Our eyes met, and it hurt to look at him. Hurt to feel him this hard and coiled with arousal. He was so insanely, potently attractive. His neck muscles tensed with need. Sculpted cheekbones sharpened with intensity, and full lips parted on a famished breath.

“I will not lose you again.” He grabbed my throat and dove in for the kiss.

9

My pulse went wild as Priest slanted his mouth over mine, possessing me with ravenous audacity. The fury he’d carried aboard my ship disintegrated beneath his desire, and I melted with him, surrendering to the fire that burned so fiercely between us.

Sweet heaven, the way he dragged the flat of his tongue against mine, licking me, panting, and vibrating guttural noises across my lips… His loss of control was an aphrodisiac, driving my own heedless plunge from hatred to lust.

His hands wandered, and his kiss hungered, feeding on me with voracious, impatient strokes as if I embodied what he needed to survive. I wanted to give him what he sought. I ached to give him everything.

“Bennett.” He growled and bit down on my bottom lip, sucking hard and humming deep in his chest.

Maybe I imagined the devotion in the fingers that caressed my back, but I didn’t care if it wasn’t real. He was holding me, kissing me, taking pleasure in being with me. His love and fidelity were all I’d ever wanted from him.

He fisted my shift, gathering it up my legs. Crisp air hit my wetness, and competent fingers slid up my bare thigh. Fingers that promised wicked pleasure. And pain. Years of it. Because they belonged to a cold-hearted philander.

An adulterous knave.

A cheater who would cheat again.