The Innocent Behind the Scandal (The Marchetti Dynasty 2)

Zoe turned around and felt him undo the bra at the back. He slipped the straps down her arms and it fell to the floor at her feet. She kicked off her trainers.

Maks stood behind her, the heat from his body making her shiver with awareness. Not cold. His hands were on her shoulders, moving down her arms. On her waist, spanning it easily. Then up, under her breasts. Zoe’s breath was choppy, and it stopped completely when his big hands cupped her breasts. Her nipples pebbled against his palms into tight points of need. She bit her lip.

Maks’s mouth pressed a kiss to the spot where her shoulder met her neck. One of his hands moved down, over her belly, teasing at the top of her jogging pants before tugging them down, over her hips. Meanwhile his other hand was massaging her breasts.

Her head fell back against his shoulder. She could feel the smattering of hair on his chest abrading the skin of her back. She wanted to turn around and feel it against her breasts. Her skin. Except she couldn’t turn around because Maks’s hand was exploring under her lace panties, and further, to the place where her legs were tightly clamped together.

He said in her ear, ‘Let me feel you, Zoe. Let me feel how much you want this.’

She relaxed, and Maks’s hand slipped between her legs, his fingers coming into contact with the seam of flesh that hid the beating centre of every nerve-point in her body. He touched her there, until she was helpless but to relax even more, opening herself up to his wicked fingers.

She gasped when he found the moist evidence of her desire. She felt him tense against her, even as he stroked her flesh until she wasn’t sure how she was still standing.

His movements became more rhythmic and Zoe’s body responded, moving against his hand, willing him to explore deeper. He was a master of sorcery, penetrating her flesh again and again while he stroked that sensitive cluster of cells. Then, on a cry that came from some guttural place as his other hand squeezed her breast, Zoe’s whole body tightened like a vice, before a rushing pleasure exploded outwards and upwards, washing everything she’d ever known away and replacing it with a pure kind of satisfaction she’d never felt before.

She wasn’t aware of collapsing against him. She was only aware that he was laying her down on a soft surface and resting over her on both hands.

‘Okay?’

She could barely nod. Her whole body was suffused with pleasure. She could feel her inner muscles still pulsating in the aftermath.

She watched through heavy-lidded eyes as Maks took off the rest of his clothes, revealing a body that was densely packed with muscles. He had a boxer’s body. Immensely strong, but graceful.

Her eyes drifted down and widened when she took in the most potent part of him. Long and thick. Hard. She could see moisture beading the head and her mouth watered at the thought of running her tongue along his shaft, tasting that moisture.

Somewhere else, where her brain was functioning, she wondered who she had become. She had thought there was something wrong with her after—

Maks came down alongside her. ‘What are you thinking?’

Zoe’s face flamed at her outrageous fantasy. Her hair had come loose. ‘Nothing important.’

He put a hand on her belly. ‘You’re incredibly responsive. You seem surprised... You didn’t—’

She cut him off. ‘No, not with him.’ She wanted to get him out of her head. She turned towards him. ‘Kiss me, Maks.’

He pulled her close, and as he did so he reached for her underwear, pulling it down and off completely. Now they were both naked. His mouth covered hers and she fell into the deep, drugging pleasure of it.

Maks’s hand went between her legs again and, emboldened, Zoe explored his body. Tracing his pectorals, the small disc-like nipples, the ridges of muscle that led down to a flat lower belly, and further...to the pulsing heat of him. Strong but vulnerable. Silk over steel.

She wrapped her hand around him, moving it experimentally, up and down. She felt the moisture against her palm and pressed her thumb there, spreading it over his head.

He reared back, putting his hand over hers.

Instantly she felt gauche. ‘What is it?’

He looked tortured. Stark. ‘Later we can play...you can torture me all you want. Right now... I need to be inside you.’

Her inner muscles clenched at his words, as if her body was already ahead of her. She took her hand away and lay back, watching as he reached for protection and rolled the latex along his length, sheathing all that silk and steel. For a second she lamented that barrier, and bit her lip.

He came over her, nudging her thighs apart with his. He was all sinew and hard lines and those silver eyes... ‘Zoe, I meant what I said. If you want to stop—’

‘I won’t.’ She reached up, overcome with a dangerous rush of tenderness for his consideration.

Maks notched the head of his erection against her. She could feel how slippery she was, and might have been embarrassed—but it was too late for that.

Zoe held her breath as Maks slowly joined his body with hers. She could see the strain on his face. ‘I’m okay. Keep going.’

In one cataclysmic movement Maks thrust deeper, and Zoe sucked in a shocked breath at the sudden sharp pain.