The room still smelled of sex.

Zoey was naked, sweaty, her hair plastered to the nape of her neck, her breasts rising and falling slowly. But it wasn't exhaustion. It was the return of hunger. The hunger that hadn't ceased, only retreated. Her skin, sensitive to the touch of the air, still vibrated with the taste of the first orgasm, but her eyes—her eyes said something else. They wanted him again.

Victor stood before her.

He wore only his dark trousers, his bare chest marked with scratches ...