Rock Addiction (Rock Kiss #1)(8)

She cried out his name, burying her face against the side of his, her breath a burn over his skin. Hauling her back with his free hand in her hair, he ran his lips down her jaw to her throat, pumping his fingers into her the entire time.

Her muscles fluttered around him, her nails cutting tiny half-moons into his shoulders, her breathing soft pants.

Groaning, he continued to plunge his fingers in and out of her, even as he placed his thumb on the plump, slippery bud of her clit. “Open for me, baby.” He bit her lower lip as she’d bitten his, caught her startled whimper in a kiss. “I want in.”

He flicked her clit.

Back arching, she came in a shocked spasm that left her melted and ready in his arms. He kept his hand where it was, pressed his body close to kiss her again. Seduce her. That orgasm had been beautiful, but he knew she had more inside her, his sexy little librarian. And he intended to see it, coax it out of her.

His cock throbbed.

Gritting his teeth, he reined in the driving need to pound into her. That would come. Right now Molly was back with him, that first short, sharp orgasm having left her ripe for another, this one darker, deeper, tighter. Her body twisted on his, her nipples pebbled points he fully intended to bite.

Later.

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 cock 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 cock 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 hips 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 nipples 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 breasts, 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*ck 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 buttocks.

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*ck 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.