The Innocent Behind the Scandal (The Marchetti Dynasty 2)

Zoe was drunk on the wine, the food, but most of all on Maks. He sat beside her, feeding her morsels, not satisfied until she’d tasted a little piece of everything. One arm was stretched out behind her and his fingers grazed the back of her bare n

eck. Making her skin tight and hot. Making her breasts ache and her nipples tighten with need.

He lifted a tiny piece of toast with caviar. Zoe shook her head, laughing. ‘I can’t. I’ll burst.’

‘Fine. I’ll have it.’

Maks popped it into his mouth, smiling as he ate. The lightness Zoe had felt earlier still infused her. It was heady. Maks had undone his bow tie and it hung open rakishly, the top button of his shirt was undone too, revealing the bronzed column of his throat.

Zoe saw his gaze drop and rest on her chest. She looked down to see the dress was gaping slightly, showing the curve of her bare breast. The blood pulsed between her legs, hot and heavy. She looked back up and saw Maks was reaching for her, cupping her jaw and angling her head to take her mouth in a kiss that sent her hurtling over the edge of all restraint.

She strained towards him, her arms around his neck. His hand slid into the front of her dress and closed around one breast, squeezing her flesh, trapping a nipple between his fingers. Zoe gasped into his mouth.

He said roughly, ‘I want to taste you, right now.’

She drew back, shocked at how desperate she felt. ‘Okay.’

Maks smiled and took his hand off her breast. He somehow communicated to the discreet staff that they were leaving, and when he’d paid the bill he led her out on shaky legs to the car.

The journey back to the hotel was a blur. Zoe didn’t feel drunk any more. Everything was crystal-sharp.

As soon as they got into Maks’s suite he pulled off his jacket and shirt, reached for his trousers. Zoe kicked off the sandals she was wearing. Maks’s hands were now on his briefs, pulling them down, releasing his arousal.

Zoe’s mouth watered. Feeling bold, she dropped to her knees in front of Maks, the dress billowing out around her on the ground, a cloud of silk and tulle. But she was oblivious to that.

‘Zoe...what are you—’

Maks groaned as Zoe took his erection in her hand and came close. She darted her tongue out, licking the head. Tasting the salty bead of moisture.

‘Zoe, you don’t have to—’

But she didn’t hear what he said because she was taking him into her mouth, running her tongue around the ridge below the head experimentally. She felt Maks’s fingers in her hair and she put her hands on his thighs as she explored the silky heat of his body, marvelling at how powerful she felt when she was the one on her knees.

She could feel the tremor in Maks’s hand, and the way his hips were jerking as if he couldn’t control himself. She took him deeper, relishing his essence, her hands tightening on his thighs as he jerked into her mouth.

Then he was pulling back, out of her mouth, and she looked up. Maks emitted a curse in Italian, or Russian—she wasn’t sure which—and then he was hauling her up, reaching under her dress to pull her underwear down.

He lifted her against the door, saying roughly, ‘Put your legs around my waist.’

And then he was thrusting up, right into the heart of her. His big, slick body was embedded in hers so tightly and deeply that she saw stars. Zoe clung to Maks as he effortlessly held her, thrusting deeper and deeper, harder... Until Zoe had nowhere to go except over the edge, crying out as her whole body shattered around Maks’s.

She was barely aware of him pulling free and the hot splash of his release against her belly, under the dress.

Maks lifted her into his arms and carried her to the bedroom, stripping off the dress and then taking her by the hand into the shower, where she would have sunk to the floor in a state of sated bliss if he hadn’t held her up as he lathered soap all over her body and shampooed her hair.

Afterwards he dried her with a huge soft towel. Then he took a robe from the back of the door and wrapped her in it, leading her to the bed, where she lay down, unable to move a muscle.

A few hours later Zoe woke with a start. She sat up, becoming aware of the voluminous robe, and then she remembered that desperate coupling against the door. The taste of Maks’s body on her tongue. In her mouth. Her inner muscles squeezed at the memory.

The bed beside her was empty. She went out of the bedroom, passing a chair with the beautiful dress draped over it carefully. Her face felt hot when she realised she couldn’t even remember Maks taking it off her.

She walked down the corridor, making no sound on the plush carpet, and found Maks standing at the window, looking out at the sleeping city, its lights twinkling in the distance. He was bare-chested, but had pulled on his trousers.

He turned around when he heard her. She walked over, feeling shy, and stood beside him. She sensed tension.

He said, ‘I apologise for earlier... I’m not usually so...uncivilised.’

Zoe turned to face him, surprised. ‘You didn’t hurt me.’