The Innocent Behind the Scandal (The Marchetti Dynasty 2)

‘I guess I know what she means...most people are dismissive of those in the service industry.’

Maks winced. ‘Or they get them fired.’

‘That too.’

Zoe couldn’t think straight. Couldn’t seem to remember what she’d been worried about. Maks was close enough to touch. To smell. To want. Every part of her clamoured to be closer.

Damn him. Why wasn’t he taking the lead?

Maks shook his head, a small smile playing around his mouth. ‘Your move, Zoe. If you want me, all you have to do is show me. It’s not complicated. I can hear you overthinking this from here.’

Zoe wanted to scowl. But even before she knew she’d made the decision she’d put her coffee cup down on the low table and scooted closer on the couch. She couldn’t not. The clamour in her body had become a sizzle.

She was fixated on his mouth. She reached out and touched it experimentally with her finger, tracing the shape...

* * *

Maks was burning up. He wanted to grab Zoe’s hand and tug her all the way into him until he could feel every curve of her body pressed against him. Until he was drowning in her sweetness.

But he held back. Something told him that her reticence wasn’t an act.

For a moment he had a jolting moment of wondering if she might be—

But that dissolved in a rush of heat when she leaned all the way forward and pressed her mouth to his.

* * *

Maks’s mouth was firm under Zoe’s. Her breasts were pressed against his chest. It felt like a steel wall. A warm steel wall.

His mouth wasn’t moving.

Zoe was in too deep now to pull back. Her brain cells were melting. She pressed closer, angled her head slightly. She opened her mouth and let the tip of her tongue explore the closed seam of Maks’s mouth.

And that was when she realised the level of Maks’s restraint, as he put his hands on her arms to haul her up and even closer, so she was sprawled across his chest, letting him take her weight.

She lifted her head, looked down, aware of her hair falling around her face. For once she wanted to push it back, so she could see him. He did it for her, tucking it behind her ears. It was a surprisingly tender gesture amidst the inferno building in her blood.

It had never felt like this with—

Maks caught her head and pulled it down, so their mouths touched again. Except this time there was no doubt who was the instigator. Even though he was under her, Maks controlled and dominated the kiss with an expertise that made Zoe’s heart race.

He opened his legs so she was between them, her lower belly pressed against the place where the evidence of his arousal was hard. As hard as the rest of him.

Except his mouth was soft now, coaxing her to be bolder, more daring. To use him. She funnelled her hands through his hair, holding his head, exploring his mouth as if she’d never kissed a man before. And she hadn’t...not like this. Not as if she was an adventurer in a new undiscovered land.

* * *

Zoe was killing Maks with a thousand tiny innocent kisses. With the most chaste foreplay he’d ever indulged in. Either she was a wanton seductress who knew exactly what she was doing and was laughing at him for his restrained response, or she really was as gauche as her kisses.

Except gauche kisses had never turned him on like this. He had never been so close to climax with his clothes on.

He moved her so that she lay under him on the couch, looking up at him with those huge sea-green eyes, her hair tumbled around her head, cheeks flushed, mouth plump and moist.

He gritted his jaw when his erection pressed uncomfortably against his trousers. His thigh was between her legs and he moved it subtly against her, seeing how her eyes widened at the friction.

He lowered his mouth to hers again, to find it open, willing. She put her arms around his neck. His chest expanded. He explored the seam of her top above her trousers, delving underneath to find bare silky skin, pushing it up until he encountered the lace-covered swell of her breast. Small, but perfect. Plump.

He squeezed her flesh gently and she gasped into his mouth. A little hitch of breath that ramped up his arousal to excruciating levels.