“Is she… is she on him?” John’s voice was a low, hungry rasp in her ear, his hands gripping her hips as the warm Caribbean water lapped around their waists.

Dianna could only moan in response, her head falling back against John’s shoulder. Her world had narrowed to sensation: the hard planes of Luke’s chest under her palms, the tantalizing ridge of his cock pressed against her inner thigh through his swim trunks, and John’s possessive grasp anchoring her from behind. This is madness. Pure, intoxicating madness.

It had started innocently enough. A shared cab to the private resort. Easy laughter with two other couples from the ship, all of...