Page 4 of The One Night Match (Mafia Matchmaker #1)

FOUR

CRUZ

I t figures that the first woman who has even slightly piqued my interest in years comes into my life the night before I marry a stranger.

I don’t know what it is about her, but she’s driving me crazy, cutting through every ounce of restraint I’ve built like it never existed in the first place.

Logically, I should walk away. It’s the smart thing to do, but I don’t think I could, even if I wanted to.

Her lips are impossibly soft as she takes everything I give her, grinding her hot little body against me the same way I do her.

Fuck.

Why does she have to feel so perfect pressed against me?

If I were going to have one last hoorah, it could have at least been with someone I didn’t give a fuck about. That I felt nothing for.

Instead, this feels like a mistake I’m going to struggle to come back from.

She wraps her arms around my neck, dragging my face closer as I plant my hands on either side of her head.

I nip at her lower lip, dragging it between my teeth until her vibrant eyes pop open to look up at me. “You’re playing with fire, Kitten,” I murmur.

“Good thing I can handle a little heat,” she breathes, her body trembling slightly as she takes a moment to look around at the room. “Where are we?”

“My office,” I tell her truthfully. There are few people who know I own this place, and I can’t remember the last time I was even here.

“You work here?” Her brow furrows.

I shake my head. “No. I’m the owner.”

Her eyes flare with surprise, but nothing in her gaze changes, telling me she’s not like most of the women I’ve fucked here in the past.

There are people who will do anything to climb to the top of the social ladder, and sleeping with the owner of the hottest club in Seattle is one way to push yourself toward the top.

The thing the women in the past didn’t quite understand was that I knew their game, and I had no interest in being used as a stepping stone.

I don’t get that vibe from this woman, though, and it’s almost as perplexing as the rest of her.

“So that’s your play then? Pick a girl up at the bar and fuck her over your desk?” She means it to sound sassy, but I don’t miss the flash of hurt in her eyes.

“No.” I dip my head to trail kisses down her delicate throat, trying desperately to stop myself from marking her. The possessive streak this stranger pulls out of me should scare me, but instead it’s thrilling. “I don’t fuck anyone in here.”

“Except me?”

“Except you.” The admission feels too big as it settles between us, but before either of us can question it, I drag the thin strap of her dress down her shoulder with my teeth, giving me more skin to work with.

She’s so fucking soft. Have women always been this silky, and I’ve just forgotten? Or is she just different?

“Tell me your name,” I demand.

“No.” She shakes her head. “No names.”

Before my mind begins to spiral, I crash my lips back to hers.

I’m more annoyed than I have a right to be that she won’t give me her name, but I get it.

If she does happen to know who I am, she probably doesn’t want me to know she exists past a night of dirty fucking, and if she doesn’t, she’s already admitted I look like I kill people, so it could be self-preservation.

Something I should definitely be practicing.

I dip my body slightly, tuck my hands beneath her perfect peach ass, and lift, bringing her up so our faces are level.

Her legs wrap around my waist instinctively, and we both let out a long groan as my cock settles between her perfect thighs.

Our kiss is filthy, filled with teeth and tongue, a battle for dominance as we grind on one another shamelessly.

Fuck. I can’t even remember the last time sex was like this, and we haven’t gotten to the good part yet.

For a long time, sex was just a means to an end for me. I had a few serious girlfriends in high school and my freshman year of college, but after that, I realized relationships were too much work, and I’d rather get my dick wet and get out of there.

I know that makes me an asshole, but believe me, it’s not the only thing.

I’m a grumpy bastard despite being barely thirty-one, but life as a Mafia boss will do that to you. It’ll chew you up and spit you out, making it hard to cling to the pieces of humanity that remain.

Her hips grind against mine frantically, and I can’t help but wonder if she’s going to come just by dry fucking. God, that would be hot as fuck, and I double my efforts in the hope of making it happen.

Why does this moment feel so reminiscent of the frantic groping as a desperate teen?

I drag her dress down further, using my body to hold her in place against the wall as I trail open kisses down her throat and chest until I expose one of her nipples.

The sight of the dusky pink rosebud has my cock pulsing behind my zipper, my balls aching with the need to come.

Maybe she’ll let me come all over her tits. Now there’s a thought.

I press a chaste kiss to the soft peak before laving my tongue across it, stealing a soft moan from her pouty lips.

Her hands thread into my hair, tugging me closer and positioning me exactly where she needs me.

I carefully drag my teeth over the sensitive bud, unsure how much pain she can handle on the side of her pleasure, but the sound she lets out is enough proof of how filthy my girl is.

Fuck. My girl.

I can’t think of her like that, because I can’t fucking keep her.

Tomorrow I’ll be married to another woman, and while I’m a lot of things, I’m not a fucking cheater.

I watched for years as my father stepped out on Mom, her self-esteem gradually falling away until she was nothing but a shell of herself.

I refuse to do that to my wife, even if we were strangers up until our wedding day.

“Oh god,” she moans, her hips losing their rhythm as she grinds down on my throbbing cock. If I don’t get inside her soon, I’m pretty sure I’m going to explode.

Maybe I’ll be the one coming from dry fucking alone.

I chuckle against her soft skin. “Are you going to come for me, Kitten?”

She nods, dropping her head back against the wall as her body begins to tremble. She looks so beautiful right now. I can barely tear my eyes off her as I double my efforts with her tits, meeting her hips at every opportunity to drive her higher.

“So close,” she breathes.

“I want to see you fall apart for me, Kitten. Get yourself off on my cock,” I demand, and as if the words alone pushed her over the edge, her eyes fall closed and her body tenses as soft tremors take over.

Her moan is downright pornographic as she comes, and I have to distract myself to stop myself from tumbling right over the edge with her.

Old ladies. Asshole’s litter tray. Tuna sandwiches. The trash can from the diner next door.

That last one seems to do the trick, and I manage to drag myself back from the brink of orgasm.

“You’re so fucking pretty when you come, baby,” I murmur, pressing kisses along her jaw until her eyes pop open, full of heat and desire.

“Your turn.” She smirks, pressing against my chest slightly until I reluctantly step back, allowing her to slide down my chest until her heeled feet hit the ground.

Without hesitation, she drops to her knees, forcing a groan from me.

Jesus.

This fucking woman.

“You gonna suck my cock, Kitten?” I ask.

She nods, reaching for my belt and making quick work of getting my pants undone.

Her eyes widen slightly when my cock pops out, and I can’t tell if she’s surprised I’m not wearing any underwear, or if it’s the size that has her bottom lip disappearing between her teeth.

“The way you’re looking at my cock is doing things to me, Kitten,” I rumble. I thread my fingers through her hair, massaging her scalp softly as she looks her fill.

As badly as I want to fuck her mouth right now, I want to see what my kitten does on her own so much more.