Making His Move (4 page)

“Oh, Christ,” he groaned, gripping her hips and shoving his face against her crotch, his harsh exhalations fanning against the wet satin. Heart pounding so hard it hurt, Sophie pushed her fingers into his thick hair, her hands and legs trembling as he pulled in a deep, ragged breath. The sexy sound rumbling up from his chest told her how much he liked her scent, the way his hands squeezed her hips making her feel feminine and soft. A quick flick of his tongue across the damp satin, followed by a primitive growl, and then he was moving back to his feet, his expression tight with need as he stared down at her.

His lips parted, some kind of shadow briefly moving across his piercing gaze, and for an awful moment, Sophie thought he was going to tell her something...something crushing. But he ended up kissing her instead, and by the time he pulled back and started attacking the buttons on his white dress shirt, she was too focused on watching him bare that incredible body to be worried about that “off” look he’d given her. When he pulled the shirt off those broad shoulders and dropped it on the floor, she couldn’t keep from reaching out and running her fingertips over the elaborate ink scrolled over both of his arms and shoulders, the dark designs mixed with brilliant hues of color. She’d noticed the intricate tattoos whenever he’d come into work in his running clothes or rolled up the sleeves of his dress shirts, and Sophie thought they were not only sexy, but gorgeous, as well.

“You like the ink?” he asked, sounding surprised by the revelation.

She lifted her shy gaze to his smoldering one. “Not always. I mean, not on everyone who has them. But I think your tattoos are beautiful.”

He gave her one of those sexy grins that never failed to make her hot, his hands busy pulling the pins out of her hair as he told her, “Mom gave me the jewelry, and my dad gave me the ink. He owns a parlor in Encinitas, and my mom’s gallery is right next door. She doesn’t surf, but she’s happy to sit on the beach and watch my old man and me in the afternoons sometimes, after they both close up shop. We try to go out together at least once a week.”

She blinked with surprise. Not over the fact that his dad was a surfing tattoo artist, but that his parents were still so much a part of his life. “That’s incredible. You’re so lucky.”

His brows lifted with interest. “Yeah?”

Nodding, she said, “You obviously have parents who care about you. That’s really special, Chris.”

He cocked his head a bit to the side, studying her eyes. “What are your parents like?”

It took everything she had not to scowl. “Um, my family isn’t all that...close. To be honest, I haven’t talked to my parents or my brother since last Christmas.”

“Seriously? What’s their problem?”

She gave an uncomfortable shrug. “Oh, they’re fine. Just busy with their careers.” And then, before she could stop, she heard herself saying, “My parents are both big on being a part of what they consider the ‘right’ social scene. To say they’re disappointed in me is putting it lightly.”

“Disappointed that you’re smart and beautiful and have a kickass career? Not to mention sweet and funny and one of the most incredible women I’ve ever met?”

Warmth filled her chest, but she knew he was just trying to make her feel good. “I’m hardly all of that,” she said with an embarrassed laugh. “But it’s sweet of you to say so.”

He smirked as he shook his head. “You don’t take compliments well, do you, Soph?”

“No, not really.”

He shook his head again and pulled her closer. “We’re going to have to change that.”

“We are?”

“Yeah,” he breathed against her lips, rubbing his mouth over hers, while his big hands pushed into the heavy fall of her hair. “Just as soon as I’ve fucked your beautiful little brains out and convinced you there’s not a ‘sweet’ thing about me.”

She couldn’t help but smile, taking the initiative this time and kissing him back with every bit of craving she’d been bottling up from the moment she’d met him. His lips were firm but soft, his taste warm and rich and masculine, making her want to drown in him.

While Sophie held the sides of his strong throat and tangled her tongue with his, she could feel Chris’s hands working between them as he undid his belt and opened his slacks. He kicked his shoes off, and she broke away from the kiss to look down, wanting to watch as he shoved his slacks down his powerful thighs and calves, along with a pair of tight black boxers. He bent forward, obscuring her view as he pulled his socks off, then stood up, and she damn near swallowed her tongue when she got her first look at him completely naked.

Holy...freaking...moly
.

His cock was...yeah, it was impressive. She’d never imagined this part of a man could be beautiful, but Chris’s hard-on was definitely a thing of wonder. Long and thick, with a heavy, fleshy head and ropy veins beneath the tight stretch of skin, he looked even bigger than he’d felt inside his slacks. And he’d felt big. As in
how-the-hell-is-he-ever-going-to-fit-inside-me
big.

While she just stood there and stared, probably drooling a little, he opened the condom he’d taken from his wallet before dropping his slacks on the floor. She bit her lip as she watched him open the foil square, then sheath his heavy cock in the latex. The head was so big the weight of it pulled the rigid stalk away from his body, her breath catching as it thumped against her stomach. She was still just standing there, head tilted forward, staring like someone in a trance, when he pushed one hand into her hair at her nape, pulling her head back until she was staring up at him, while his other hand settled on her hip, his long fingers digging into her skin.

“I don’t want to fall on you like a raving madman,” he said in a low voice, his fingers flexing against her. “I want to keep getting to know you even better than I already do, Soph. I swear I do. But I don’t think I can wait another second to get inside you.”

“Then don’t.”

The next thing she knew, his hands were under her bottom, the muscles in his arms flexing beneath the tight stretch of his colorful skin as he easily lifted her up, pressing her against the front of his body, his big cock sandwiched between them. His mouth found hers as he carried her the few feet to the sofa, the rawness of his kiss making her toes curl as he perched her on the sofa’s padded leather arm, his hips forcing her legs to spread for him as he pushed between them. His tongue swept across the roof of her mouth, and then he nipped the fleshy pad of her lower lip, before asking, “You okay, sweetheart?”

“Yes.” Gripping on to his strong shoulders, she pulled back until she could look him in the eye, and said, “Just promise me that this won’t change things. I want you so much, Chris, but...but it would kill me to lose your friendship.”

“Shh, baby, that’s not gonna happen.”

“How do you know?”

He gripped the back of her neck again, his other hand stroking up the inside of her thigh, higher...and higher. When he reached the crotch of her panties, he cupped her plump, satin-covered sex, and growled, “I won’t let it happen because you mean too much to me, Soph.”

She gave a low moan that cracked with emotion, and he made another rough, guttural sound as he lowered her to the sofa, coming down over her as he pressed her into the leather cushions that were suddenly beneath her back. She felt cocooned in warmth, despite the air-conditioned chill in the condo, his sharp-edged male energy wrapping around her like a blistering wave of heat, scorching her sensitive skin. He was hot, and so wonderfully hard, trapping her there beneath his magnificent body, and she loved it. She desperately wanted to feel him pushed beyond control, into a place that was primal and fierce and wild.

He rubbed her satin-covered sex with one hand, while the other fisted in her hair, holding her still as he kissed her in every way imaginable, his head angling from side to side. His tongue was so wickedly skilled that she didn’t want to think about how he had come to know so much about kissing...or to be so freaking good at it. Then she mentally scowled, knowing damn well that she didn’t have any right to be jealous.

“You’re going to fucking scream for me, Sophie,” he warned, just before he nipped her bottom lip again in a feral, erotic move that she
loved
. His long fingers tucked beneath the sopping strand of satin covering her sex and wrenched hard to the right, shredding the delicate fabric, before ripping it again at her hip. One long, callused finger circled her slippery entrance, then pushed inside, his breath hissing through his teeth as her inner muscles clamped down on that single digit. A second finger quickly joined the first, his lips and tongue and teeth still driving her wild as he pumped those long digits inside her narrow sheath, his muscles like carved granite beneath her greedy, stroking hands.

“You’re so fucking
tight
,” he growled against her mouth, her body making a wet, sucking sound as he pulled his fingers free. Before she could shout her protest, needing him back inside her, she felt the searing heat of his heavy, broad cockhead prodding her tender flesh, and wanted to sob with relief that she was
finally
going to have even
more
of him. He cursed something low and rough under his breath, then pushed just the first few hard, burning inches of his cock inside her, and cursed again. Gripping her behind her left knee, he lifted it higher, another gritty curse on his lips as he sank into her tight flesh a few inches more, stretching her so wide that the sting brought a rush of tears to her eyes. “How long, Sophie?” he suddenly demanded, his cheekbones flushed with color, eyes heavy and piercing as he stared down at her. “How long has it been?”

“Um, just once. In college,” she confessed, blushing with embarrassment at how pathetic that sounded. “Almost three years ago.”

“Once?” he scraped out, his forehead pressing hard against hers as he struggled to catch his breath. She’d obviously just shocked him, and she found herself gripping his wide shoulders even tighter, terrified he might suddenly pull away from her.

“It wasn’t what I’d expected,” she rambled. “So I decided to wait until... um...” Until it was with someone she really wanted, who meant something to her, though she didn’t want to freak him out by saying it.

He drew in a deep breath, then slowly let it out as he lifted his head just a bit, keeping his face over hers. “It probably makes me sound like a jackass, but I’m glad you waited,” he said against her lips, touching their slick surface with his tongue, while his hips started once again to apply that firm, inexorable pressure between her legs. “Narrows down the list of guys I need to kill for touching you.”

Enjoying his playful possessiveness, she said, “You don’t need to kill Jacob. We’re still friends and he’s happily married now.”

“Huh. Then I guess he can live,” he grunted, pushing another inch of his thick flesh inside her, the delicious feel of him making her frantic.

“Chris, hurry,” she panted, clawing at his shoulders, her lungs heaving so hard she felt bound by the constrictions of her bra and blouse. “I want you in me. Don’t make me wait.”

“You’re wet enough that I won’t hurt you, but so damn tight. If I’m going in you all the way, Soph, then I’ll need to be rough. To fuck you hard. Is that what you want?” he asked, a guttural edge to his deep voice that she found unbelievably hot. “You want this sweet little cunt packed full of me?”

“
Yes!
”

He growled something thick and hot in response, then gripped her hips and slammed into her.
Hard
. She cried out, stunned at the force of the impact, the indescribable feel of having what had to be eight or more inches of his thick, rock-hard cock buried deep inside her shattering in its perfection. It was every bit as breathtaking as she’d known it would be, his steely shaft like a hot, lead pipe inside her, stretching tissues that had never been reached before. Then he pulled back a little and hammered in even deeper, and she took him all the way to the broad root, her tender entrance stretched impossibly wide as he ground against her, not so much as even a sliver of space between them.

“You okay?” he asked in a guttural voice, grinding his heavy testicles against her plump, wet outer sex.

She licked her lips, trying to take in everything at once. “Mmm...Yeah.”

“You sure?” he demanded, his hard body shaking with the effort it took to hold himself still while she adjusted to his size. But she didn’t want him holding back. She wanted to feel the full force of his incredible body. Wanted to be taken, and taken hard, knowing he was giving her everything that he had.

“Just do it,” she moaned, digging her short nails into his hot skin. “Fuck me, Chris. Don’t make me wait.”

Undone by those husky words, Chris gripped her fragile wrists and forced them over her head, watching carefully for any sign to stop as he pulled back his hips then drove his cock inside her with another hammering stroke. He nearly shot his load right then, when her eyes went wide, almost blind with pleasure, his tempo increasing until he was fucking her sweet little pussy hard and fast, shoving every brutal inch of his dick inside her, a breathless cry spilling past her moist lips each time he hit the end of her.