Smiling through the shakiness—no doubt as Charlotte intended—Molly said, “Are you saying that to wind up T-Rex?”
“He’s not here. Away in Taupo to finalize a property purchase for his personal portfolio—I swear, the man wants to own the entire country,” she said, and Molly could almost see her rolling her eyes. “So, talk. What’s happened?”
As Molly and Charlotte spoke, she thought back to the start of her relationship with Fox, when she’d worried about his ability to contain things within while appearing as if nothing was the matter on the surface… and realized she’d never come up against that roadblock.
He trusted her, let her see him.
The knots in her spine began to unravel at the realization. He would, she was certain, share the reason for the depth of his anger once he’d calmed down. But hours passed, and Fox remained in his studio, not even coming up for dinner. Until, for the first time since they’d decided on a relationship, Molly faced the prospect of going to bed alone.
“Enough,” she said and, pulling on the robe of opulent black silk that Fox had bought her in New York, the fabric decadent against her skin, walked downstairs. The red light over the studio door was on, but Molly turned the handle and stepped inside.
Fox looked up with a scowl from where he was listening to something via headphones, his guitar propped up against the wall. Sliding the headphones down to his neck, he said, “Molly, you know you’re not supposed to walk in when the light’s red.”
She propped her hip against the complex control panel, lights blinking across the board and waves of sound charted on the built-in computer. “You’ve been down here for hours.”
“I’m working.” Shoving a hand through his hair, he took the headphones totally off and put them on the table to his left. “Sometimes I spend days in here. Get used to it.”
It was the way he said the last that had her eyes narrowing. “Fine”—she folded her arms—“then you should get used to a woman who cares about you. You missed dinner.”
“I’m hardly going to fade away.” Legs sprawled out and eyes glittering, he said, “Go to bed. I’ll be up when I’m done.”
“You’re done now.”
Rising to his feet in a sudden movement that sent her heart into her throat, he pressed up against her, hands on the panel on either side. “You don’t want to be with me in this mood, baby. Get upstairs, now.”
Molly reached between them to tug open the knot of her robe instead, letting the lush fabric slide off to pool on the panel, her body nude in his arms. Fox’s own body reacted as it always did to her, as hers did to him, but his eyes continued to glitter. “Using sex to get your own way?” It was a hard question, his hand thrusting between her legs.
Already wet for him, she gasped and gripped at his shoulders. But he withdrew his hand and returned to sit in the chair, undoing his jeans just enough to release his cock. “Come here, then. Fuck me.” A crude challenge.
If there was one thing she’d learned with Fox, it was to be confident about her sexuality. The man wanted her, and even in his anger, he made no effort to hide it, his c**k rigid, the vein that ran along the bottom plump with blood. Nudging aside his hand where he gripped the base, she straddled him and used her own fingers to guide him inside her molten core.
His fingers dug into her h*ps as she sank down to take him to the hilt, his head thrown back. Kissing his throat, she didn’t ride him but began to squeeze her inner muscles in a rhythmic pulse.
“What the—” His breath hissed. “Where did you learn that?” It was a dangerous question.
“I like to read.” Licking along the tendon on one side of his neck, she scraped her teeth over his jaw, kissed her way up to play with his lip ring. “I read the Kama Sutra. Along with a number of very educational erotic romances.”
Gritting his teeth, he ground her down onto him. “The practical application?”
“I guess you’ll have to be my crash-test dummy. Now sit back”—she pulsed her muscles in a faster rhythm—“and take it.”
The words that came out of his mouth were so blue she blushed even in the midst of the eroticism. Then she loved him, pushing up his T-shirt to pay exquisite attention to the flat disks of his ni**les with her fingers and her mouth as she used her inner muscles to torment and pleasure him. And the kisses, so many kisses. All of them raw, deep, audaciously sexual.
The orgasm seemed ripped out of him, a quick and violent and merciless thing.
Chest heaving in the aftermath, he lay back, eyes heavy-lidded and hands possessive. When she leaned in to kiss him again, he took control with sated laziness, one of his hands rising to her nape to position her exactly as he liked.
Molly shivered, and this time when her muscles clenched on his cock, it wasn’t on purpose. Semi-hard, he remained inside her as they kissed for long, long minutes, the material of his T-shirt rubbing against her ni**les to leave them pouting. Rolling one with the fingers of his free hand, Fox tugged, then flicked his thumbnail against it.
She felt her body coat him in a slickness that only increased when he went for her throat. He hadn’t shaved today, and the stubble scraped over her skin with a coarseness at odds with the wet heat of his mouth. Moving restlessly on him, she wove her fingers through his hair, holding him to her.
“You like that?” More lazy kisses, his head rising from her throat.