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 fuck 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 fuck 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.”

The second time around was delectably slow and astonishingly instructive. Molly might’ve been inexperienced, but she was smart, read a lot. She knew there were endless nuances to what men and women got up to behind closed doors. But when Fox lowered his head to between her thighs and put his mouth on her, when he showed her exactly what that ring felt like against her most delicate flesh, she realized some things required practical application.

And, when it was over and he tucked her close to the hard planes of his body, she stayed. For this one night, a night that would never be repeated, she could trust a man to hold her.

“You work every Saturday?” Fox asked the next morning as they walked toward her car.

Molly nodded. “The library opens seven days a week, rain or shine.” Her work-week started Tuesday, ended today.

“When will you finish?”

She felt her stomach dip, shook it off with pure strength of will. The night was over; wild, dangerous Molly with her taste for rock stars and bone-melting pleasure put permanently under dustcovers, leaving sensible Molly in charge. “Around five,” she answered. “Can I drop you off somewhere?”

Her heart stuttered with the effort to keep her voice steady. Even she knew there were certain unwritten rules of behavior after a one-night stand, chief among them a calm, mature morning after. No blushing, no thinking about how Fox had wakened her an hour before her alarm had been set to go off, his fingers between her thighs.

She was sore. It had been worth it.

“The library where you work,” he said now, “where is it?”

“City center.” Realizing she was staring at his lips, her skin flushing and breasts aching, she wrenched her gaze away and unlocked the car.

“I’ll get off there,” he said after sliding into the car with an audible groan at having to fold his body into the compact space. “It’s an easy walk to the apartments we’ve taken on the waterfront.”

Molly’s hands clenched on the steering wheel as she drove out of the garage. “I thought you’d be on one of the private islands?” Safely beyond her reach, where she couldn’t give in to the temptation to ask him for just one more night.

“Nah, that’s not our style, but one of Thea’s minions did also book out a small hotel for us on the island with the wineries.”

“Waiheke.” The vibrant island was a short ferry ride across the water, though she guessed Fox and his bandmates had their own transportation to a no doubt private beach.

“Yeah, that one.” He tugged at a tendril of hair that had escaped the twist at the back of her head. “Fancy.”

Damn her skin and its inability to be mature, but at least her voice only sounded a fraction husky when she said, “Professional.” It was getting harder and harder to breathe with him so close.

He looked her up and down. “Boots, skirt, slinky top. Nice.”

Having stopped at a traffic light, she resisted the urge to tug at the soft coral-colored wool of her thin V-necked sweater. “It’s not slinky. It’s warm. The air-conditioning’s high at work.” As for the skirt, it was tailored but not tight; she needed to be able to move freely.