Making His Move by Rhyannon Byrd Page B

ass. It was the most primal, visceral, possessive thought that Chris had ever had about another human being, and in that moment, he understood something that he’d suspected since the first time Sophie Ward had looked at him across the table in that restaurant on the day he’d met her, and given him one of her sweet, beautiful smiles.
    He knew what this was. What he’d found.
    She was fucking amazing. A woman unlike anyone he’d ever known.
    And he wanted her to be his .

Chapter Five

     
     
    A s soon as their breathing had slowed, Sophie found herself being lifted until she was sitting on the arm of the sofa, Chris’s big hands undoing a couple of buttons and then ripping the delicate fabric of her blouse over her head. The move was so sudden that she almost missed the intense, feral look of hunger that fell over his rugged face the second he set eyes on her bra-covered breasts. Like her panties, she wore a peach satin bra, the warm color impossible to resist when she’d found it at the mall. But the bra was gone an instant later, and she closed her eyes as Chris’s hands settled high on her ribs, rubbing against her sides as he stared down at her bared chest.
    “You’re so fucking beautiful,” he muttered, and while she usually would have thought that was a load of bullcrap, seeing as how she was barely a B-cup, in that moment, she actually believed him. She might not see herself that way, but it was clear from the edge in Chris’s voice that he did. She wasn’t built like a voluptuous starlet, but it didn’t matter, because he didn’t seem to give a damn. He seemed to like her just the way she was, even if he probably did outweigh her by ninety pounds.
    His strong arms scooped her off the sofa, cradling her against his solid chest as he carried her through the condo, heading straight for the open door of a spacious, beautiful bathroom that was tiled in shades of rich coffee and cream and veined with gold. Flicking on a low light, he set her beside the sink on the marble counter, his hands pushing her thighs wide so that he could stand between her knees, six-plus-feet of rippling muscle and golden skin. He took a second to work the condom off his still firm cock, tossing it into the trash bin. Then his big hands curled around the undersides of her breasts, holding their light weight and plumping them up.
    “I knew it,” he said in a low voice, her small pink nipples tightening instantly from the cold and his hot stare. “I fucking knew you would be this beautiful under all those damn lab coats. I knew ,” he rasped, staring down at her from beneath the tawny slash of his brows.
    She opened her mouth to respond, but there was no time before he was sucking the tip of a breast into his hot mouth, his cheeks and tongue pulling as if he’d suckle all the deep, dark, hidden desires she had buried inside to the surface. Pull them free with the mind-shattering feel of his mouth hungrily working her nipple, the sounds he made and the way he touched her telling her that he took as much pleasure from the act as she did, if not more.
    Then he was helping her to lie back until her shoulders were pressed against the mirror, his hands gripping behind her knees and pushing them out wide at her sides. She moaned, loving the sinful feeling of her swollen pussy pulling open, puffy vaginal lips separating while her hands fisted at her sides. It was a decadent rush, opening beneath his glittering, carnal gaze, the rich, pulsing pleasure spilling over when his wicked fingers joined in, touching her as if he owned her.
    He peeled her lips farther apart, revealing every pink, private detail that was glistening with her cum, her inner thighs wet, the moisture slipping all the way back to her ass.
    Licking her lips, she whispered, “I’m really wet.”
     

     
    Chris sucked in a sharp breath. “I know, baby. And it’s so damn pretty.” He held her lips spread wide with one hand, eyes fixed in a greedy stare as he used two