Page 33 of The One Night Match (Mafia Matchmaker #1)

THIRTY-THREE

RILEY

C onsciousness comes to me slowly, my aching head all the evidence I need of the events that transpired yesterday.

I fully expected to spend the whole night waking up from nightmares, but instead I slept soundly. Apart from the three times Cruz woke me up to make sure I didn’t have a concussion.

Each time I cursed him out, and each time he just smiled at me like I was the most amusing thing in the world.

Something changed between us yesterday.

Or maybe just something in me changed.

I’ve spent the weeks I’ve been here trying to concoct every plan under the sun for how I can get Cruz to let me go, but until yesterday, I hadn’t let myself consider that this thing between us could work.

It’s not like there aren’t emotions between us, because there are. I feel for him more than I’ve ever felt for anyone else, and while that terrifies me to my very core, it also provides me with a warm feeling in my chest that not even being run off the road and chased can stifle.

I’m dragged into Cruz’s hard body, and he lets out a rough groan.

I fell asleep almost as soon as he laid me down and tucked the covers around me, which means until this very second, I didn’t realize he came to bed naked. Which means his very hard cock is currently pressed against my ass, making my core clench greedily.

Jesus. I went years without having sex, and now one hot-as-sin Mafia boss walks into my life, and my libido decides it’s time to party?

As if he can read my mind, he rolls his hips, dragging a gasp from my throat and a chuckle from his.

“Are you feeling needy this morning, Kitten?”

“No,” I reply too quickly.

“Hmm. If your pussy isn’t begging for my cock, why did you spend half the night writhing around against it? Shifting your perfect ass around until I almost came all over it.”

My cheeks heat, but that does line up with a few of the very filthy dreams I had last night.

Dreams where Cruz had me tied to the bed as he had his way with me.

Dreams where he had me sitting on his desk with my legs spread, going between meetings, and eating me out.

Dreams where the man made me come over and over again until I could barely breathe without him.

Yeah, it checks out for sure.

“Were you dreaming about all the dirty things you want me to do to you, Riley?” He presses kisses along my shoulder.

When he dressed me in one of his shirts for bed last night, I didn’t even bother arguing.

At this point, I get as much comfort out of wearing them as he does having me in them, and one thing I’ve learned since marrying Cruz is that I need to pick my battles carefully.

“No,” I lie, but the breathy hitch in my voice gives me away, earning me another rough chuckle that brushes over the back of my neck.

“Hmm, that’s too bad. Because I was dreaming about you.

About how you’ll look riding my face and my cock.

How sexy you’ll look with my cum covering your face and tits.

How pretty you look when you beg to come.

” Cruz bites down on my shoulder, and I cry out, pressing my ass back against him and earning me a groan.

“You like the sound of that, Kitten? You like the idea of me dreaming about you?”

“Yes,” I murmur, too lost in him to worry about being embarrassed.

Almost too quickly for me to process, he flips us until he’s hovering over me with his legs straddling my hips.

His eyes immediately lock onto the small bandage along my hairline with a frown. “How are you feeling?”

“I’m fine,” I whisper.

He stares down at me with a raised brow, making me sigh.

“Okay, I have a small headache, but you know what they say about orgasms.”

He laughs. “No, tell me what they say.”

“Apparently, they’re nature’s Tylenol.”

“Is that so?”

I nod slowly, dragging my bottom lip between my teeth.

“Do you want me to fuck you, Kitten?” Cruz pushes the hem of the shirt I’m wearing up enough to uncover my embarrassingly wet panties. “I think we should implement a new rule.”

“To add to all the other rules I don’t have?”

“Oh, you have rules, Riley. No coming without permission. Telling me where you are at all times. No touching your pussy without my say so.”

My mouth drops open in surprise. “I don’t think I agreed to any of those.”

He shrugs. “So I think we’ll add in no wearing underwear in bed. For either of us.”

I roll my eyes and groan. “Cruz, that’s unreasonable. You can’t just snap your fingers and tell me I can’t wear panties to bed anymore. What about when I have my period?”

“We lay down a towel,” he deadpans.

I screw up my nose. “No. Absolutely not. Nope. Uh-uh. I don’t think so.”

He chuckles, dropping his face into the crook of my neck and dragging his tongue up my throat, which only serves to make my pussy clench around nothing. “I’m sure I can convince you why it’s a great idea.”

“No, Cruz,” I say through a moan. “How about I agree to the other rules, but not the underwear one.”

“I didn’t ask for your agreement about the others. Nor am I asking for it for this one.”

I groan. “You’re impossible, you know that?”

“Yep.”

I never thought I’d be bargaining with my husband about whether I can wear underwear in our bed, but here we are. And if I’m honest, it’s a hell of a lot better than the arguments I expected to have with Jeremy when we were engaged.

I sigh, staring up at him with pursed lips to hide my amusement. “No underwear in the bed except when I have my period. That’s my final offer.”

He stares down at me. “Fine. You have a deal.”

“Nice doing business with you.” I smirk.

“As a reward for being so flexible, I think you should sit on my face now.”

My mouth drops open in surprise, and while I’m distracted by my shock, he once again flips us so he’s on his back and I’m on top of him. He lifts me with more ease than he should be able to, seeing as I’ve yet to see him step into a gym, and suddenly I find myself perched over his face.

He trails kisses along the inside of my thigh, releasing a soft moan from my throat.

“I’m sorry in advance,” he says.

“What are you—” I don’t get the chance to finish my question before his fingers slip into the waistband of my panties and tug, snapping the delicate fabric with just a slight pinch. “Cruz!”

“You know how I love it when you scream my name, Kitten,” he croons, dragging his tongue along the crease where my leg meets my groin.

So close to where I need him, and yet so far.

“Now, because I’m a giving husband that wants nothing more than to heal my beautiful wife as she rides my face, you’re allowed to come as much as you want. ”

“Wow. Thank you so much for your generosity,” I deadpan, even as my core clenches at the idea of unlimited orgasms.

He chuckles, his breath whispering against my aching heat and making my hips jerk over him. He wraps his arms around my thighs and pulls me down onto his tongue. His very fucking talented tongue.

Cruz laps and sucks at my clit like it’s his favorite dessert, and I grip onto the headboard for dear life as my legs tremble violently.

“Relax, Kitten. You don’t need to hover,” he murmurs against my sex.

“I don’t want to smother you,” I argue.

“Please do. If I die with my face buried in the paradise you hide between your thighs, I’ll die the happiest motherfucker on earth.”

As if to punctuate his point, he tugs me down so there’s no room between us, and he feasts. It’s the only word I can think of to describe the way he devours me, dragging pleasure from my body in a way I didn’t think was possible.

I scream his name through my first orgasm, which earns me a rough growl and the sight of him jerking his cock with his free hand.

Admittedly, I’d like not to have to look over my shoulder to watch, but that doesn’t matter as he drags a second and a third release from my oversensitive pussy until I’m begging him to stop.

“No more,” I whine. “Please, no more.”

Cruz chuckles. “Oh, Kitten. If you think three orgasms are too many, you’re going to get a rude surprise when we’re on our honeymoon.”