Rock Addiction (Rock Kiss 1)

The wet sound of his fingers plunging into her body, the scent of desire thick in the air, her muscles clasping him with a sensual greed he fully intended to feed. “Don’t you come again, Molly,” he warned, sliding his fingers out of her, to her moan. “I want to feel you squeezing my c**k this time, not my fingers.”

Lace tore, her panties in shreds in two short seconds.

“Open your eyes.” Holding the eye contact when she obeyed the harsh order, the possessive drive inside him a primitive thing, he luxuriated in the way she dug her fingers into the heavy muscle of his shoulders as he circled the broad head of his c**k against the nerve-laced skin at her entrance.

A soft, feminine sound, her body going taut as a drum, her skin flushed a luscious pink. “I can’t—”

That was when Fox tightened his hold in her hair, his other hand gripping the softness of her hip, and pushed in an inch. Molly stiffened, her body rippling around him in a way that had nothing to do with pain. Growling in his throat, he kissed her again. “Don’t.”

“Now,” she whispered. “Before I—”

He was buried in her the next instant.

Molly cried out into his mouth as he fought for control. Kissing her with every ounce of skill at his disposal—and yeah, he had a lot of skill—he licked his tongue against hers, stroked and sucked until she shifted restlessly.

He clenched his jaw so hard he could hear his bones grinding against each other. No way in hell was he going to last much longer. “Does it hurt?” She was stretched tight around his thickness.

A shake of her head, her fingers curling in his hair as she asked for another kiss with a sweet, hot brush of her lips against his. Willing to give her anything she wanted, he opened his mouth over hers at the same time that he began to move. Slowly. It took furious self-control.

Molly began to move with him on his fourth stroke, impatient and needy. “Fox.”

Thank God. Shifting both hands to her h*ps at that broken cry, her head falling back to expose the delicious line of her throat, Fox pounded into her, deep and relentless and ruthlessly fast, his chest rubbing against her ni**les with every movement.

Wanting more, wanting her, he curved his hand around her throat and drew her down to his mouth. His ring pressed into the softness of her lower lip, his chest crushed her br**sts, but she held on tighter instead of pushing him away, her pleasure-swollen tissues providing erotic friction against the aching hardness of his cock. “Wet and tight and so good.” The words came out a growl. “I might just f**k you forever, Molly.”

She orgasmed on a gasp, her body gripping him with such feminine strength he was the one who felt taken, possessed, owned. Sliding his hold to her jaw, he kissed her throughout her pleasure, and then he pinned her to the wall and took his own.

“You found the bedroom.”

Fox looked at her from where he lay beside her on his stomach, his eyes lazy and satisfied in the muted light of the bedside lamp. “Not difficult.” One big hand stroked down the line of her spine to splay on her lower back, fingers just brushing her bu**ocks.

Molly’s own fingers curled in the sheets. “Only one bedroom.” It was a nonsensical statement, but she was having trouble thinking past the heavy afterglow of unadulterated pleasure… and the bite of a fear that said maybe she’d made a terrible mistake. This had been meant to be her one wild night, something to carry with her as she walked into a safe, calm, happily dull future, except it had felt like more than sex, more than a single moment of madness in a life lived by the rules.

It had felt like a branding.

“I might just f**k you forever, Molly.”

He’d used her name, that’s what got to her. Right at the end, when she could’ve been any warm, willing female, he’d called her by her name, made it crystal clear he remembered exactly whose body he held against the wall. And she’d never forget his, never forget the man who’d taken such rough care with her. His entry had burned, the pressure intense, but that had faded into a pleasure that blinded.

“So many thoughts in those big brown eyes,” Fox said, playing his fingers over her hip.

Drawing in a long, quiet breath, she turned onto her side and shook her head, a knot of worry in her chest. “Nothing important.” It had been her first time, she told herself, with a man who knew exactly what he was doing. No wonder she was off-balance.

The fact was, Zachary Fox might’ve taken her as if he meant forever, but this one night was all they’d ever share. There was no cause to worry she’d started something that held the potential to devastate the life she’d so painstakingly built for herself.

“Did you say something about a second time?” she asked when it looked like he might follow up on the implied question—though she wasn’t sure her body could handle Fox and what he did to her again.

His smile was pure sex, his hair falling over his eyes as he shifted over her, pressing her onto her back. “You’ll be even more sore than you’re already going to be.”

Molly could feel her skin coloring, but she said, “I can handle it.” It panicked her a little to know their time together would end with the dawn, but that was the reason it had to end. Even should Fox lose his mind and decide he wanted to start up a relationship with a librarian who couldn’t pull off sophisticated no matter how hard she tried. “Please.”

Dimple creasing his cheek, he dipped his head to her breast. “Since you asked so nicely”—a playful lick—“I’ll even give you a reward.”