The Marked Ones by S. K. Munt Page A

customer, and you have to be nice to me,’ he stepped into her body, his toffee colored eyes dancing with glee. The closer he drew, the more apparent his beauty became. There wasn’t a visible pore on his golden skin, and the lines of his lips, masculine jaw and perfect nose were so flawless in their symmetry that he was more illustration than human to the eye. ‘And I know it’s been a few years, but I must say...great job growing up, princess.’
    Ivyanne’s lungs constricted somewhat. He was so close that his body heat was warming her skin. She ran her fingers through her wet hair in a nervous gesture. ‘Well you look exactly the same.’ She said quietly. ‘Like a snake in the grass.’
    Tristan chuckled lightly. He reached up and coaxed her fingers out of her wet mane. His touch sent jolt through her own fingertips. ‘And you look like a snake charmer if I ever saw one. Breathtaking.’
    Ivyanne flushed. She wasn’t used to such forward and flattering if not completely inappropriate comments from men. ‘There’s nothing charming about the mood I’m in right now.’ She said sassily. ‘You should go, or risk being kicked in the snake.’
    ‘Witty too huh? Triple threat.’ Tristan chuckled and pulled her hand down to her side, his fingertips still curled gently around hers-warm and soft. ‘Now look, I’ve travelled all this way because I wanted to see you,and curb your anxieties. If you’re having a bad day...maybe I can help?’
    ‘Yeah right, like you’re good for anything.....’ Ivyanne cut herself off. Tristan was a cocky, manipulative pain in the ass who had a history of using girls for his own pleasure.  As a husband, those qualities were somewhere between ‘Wife beater’ and ‘Chronic gambler.’
    But as a form of tension release....Ivyanne eyed him, pulse accelerating. In his tight-fitting brown shirt and white slacks, he looked even more handsome than the last time their paths had crossed, and she knew, by reputation, that he might be able to give her a taste of what she needed-without agonizing over what it all meant. She smiled as the devil on her shoulder whispered in her ear for the tenth time in an hour.....but this time, it won.
    ‘Maybe you can,’ she said, arching her eyebrow before yanking him up against her.

8.
    Tristan had never imagined being with Ivyanne until Nigara’s death. All he’d wanted to do was mourn, but his parents had recognised the opportunity through their grief, and had wasted no time deciding that there was a chance their family could be happy and prosper without the beloved eldest son. His mother and father loved Ivyanne-who didn’t? She was the angelic princess, as well as the poster child for self-restraint and sacrifice.
    Of course they had been the exact reasons why the prospect of marrying her had been a turn-off for him. Tristan had passed his times with the wildest of girls...those without morals or inhibitions. It had been fun, of course, but the main reason why he was drawn to them was because it made him feel better about himself. No strings or remorse....it suited his lifestyle perfectly.
    So the notion of hooking up with Ivyanne had been an unappealing one. He imagined their first experience together to be all gentle and slow and candlelit.....boring but possibly touching. He’d be the expert lover, guiding the reserved princess into the act of release....
    So when she’d yanked on his hand and flung her other arm around his neck, forcefully pulling his lips up against hers, damn near sending them both into the bushes, he’d been too shocked to do the right thing. His body had responded the way any man’s would when the spectacular looking, perfectly built and innocent virgin turned into an aggressive, hot explosion of sexual energy-he’d surrendered without protest. Everything about her-taste, scent, need...drove him instantly out of his mind.
    Intuition told him that her rough and unexpected kisses were a result of the withdrawals