"You ruined me, Marco. You can't pretend you didn't," I whisper, my voice trembling with a cocktail of sorrow and rage. I force myself to look up at him, searching for a crack in that stoic armor.
He stands rigid behind the heavy mahogany desk, his jaw working as he stares at me.
"And now… God, now I'm drowning in feelings for someone I shouldn't even be looking at. I thought leaving the country would kill it. I thought distance would fix me." I let out a sharp, bitter hiss. "But it didn't change a damn th—"
Before the last word can leave my lips, he moves. He's a blur of dark intent, closing the distance between us in a single stride. His hand shoots out, large and calloused, wrapping around my throat. It isn't violent, but it is possessive—a warning and a claim all at once.
He backs me against the edge of the desk, the hard wood digging into my lower back, and then his mouth crashes onto mine.
It's not a gentle kiss. It is a collision. A starvation.
I whimper into his mouth, my knees liquefying instantly. Marco groans, a low, guttural vibration against my lips that sends a jolt of electricity straight to my core. His tongue sweeps into my mouth, demanding and hot, tasting of scotch. I cling to his lapels, pulling him closer, needing to fuse my body with the one man I am strictly forbidden to touch.
His free hand grips my hip, his fingers digging into my flesh through the silk of my dress, dragging me flush against his hardening body. For a moment, the world dissolves. There is only the heat of his breath, the scratch of his stubble against my chin, and the overwhelming, intoxicating taste of him.
Click-clack. Click-clack.
The sharp sound of heels on the hardwood hallway echoes like a gunshot.
Marco tears himself away from me with a ragged curse. "Fuck."
The loss of his heat is physically painful. I stumble back, smoothing my dress with trembling hands, my chest heaving as I try to pull air into my starving lungs. Marco turns his back to the door, gripping the edge of the desk, his knuckles white.
The door swings open. Alexandra breezes in, a vision of oblivious elegance.
"Yes, dear?" Marco speaks, his voice rougher than sandpaper. He doesn't turn around immediately, feigning interest in a file on the desk to hide his flushed face.
Alexandra pauses, her smile faltering as she looks between us. The air in the room is heavy, thick with the scent of secrets. "What's going on?"
I turn away, pretending to examine a bookshelf, terrified she'll see the swollen evidence of his kiss on my lips.
"Just a small argument," Marco lies smoothly, finally turning to face her. He adjusts his tie, regaining his composure with terrifying speed. "Sofia is as stubborn as her father. But we're fine now."
Alexandra's eyes narrow slightly, scanning me, but logic wins out. Why would Marco, a man of his standing, touch a twenty-year-old? Why would he touch his best friend's daughter?
"Come on, darling." He walks past me without a glance, taking Alexandra's arm. "Let's head home."
The door clicks shut, leaving me in the silence. I sink onto the leather couch, burying my face in my hands. My skin is still burning where he touched me. The guilt is heavy, but the lingering taste of him is heavier.
I wait ten minutes. Then, I run.
I chase him out into the cool night air, my heels skidding on the pavement as I spot him unlocking his car. Alexandra is nowhere to be seen, likely waiting in the foyer for the car.
"Marco!"
He freezes, his hand on the door handle. When he turns, the streetlamp casts shadows over his sharp features. He looks wrecked.
"Sofia," he warns, his voice low and dangerous.
"Are you really just going to leave? After that?" I demand, breathless.
"What do you want from me?" He steps away from the car, closing the space between us until I can feel the heat radiating off him again. His green eyes are dark, filled with a torture that matches my own. "You want me to stay? With your father inside? With my girlfriend waiting? When all I can think about is kissing you again?"
My breath hitches, my heart hammering against my ribs like a trapped bird.
"Then why did you kiss me?" I whisper, stepping into his space, daring him to push me away. "If it's so wrong, Marco… why?"