Page 6 of The One Night Match (Mafia Matchmaker #1)

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CRUZ

I t’s taking more discipline than I expected to keep myself from thrusting into her like a wild animal before she can get used to the stretch.

Usually, I take more time to prepare a woman for my cock, but I was sure that if I waited any longer, I was going to come in my pants like a prepubescent boy, and I had no intention of embarrassing myself like that.

Although now I’m buried inside her, her muscles fluttering around me and her soft moans a symphony in my ear, I’m far closer to the edge, and I’m trying to figure out how I’m going to fuck her without being a two-pump chump.

Now, that would be embarrassing.

“Please,” she moans, shifting slightly to take the last inch of my length.

I’m not much bigger than the average man in terms of length, but my thickness makes up for it, and I’ve fucked around enough to know most women struggle at the beginning.

“I’ve got you, Kitten,” I say as I gently withdraw until just the tip remains inside her, and then I thrust forward again, making her eyes flutter with pleasure.

Fuck.

This woman is going to wreck me, which is really inconvenient timing.

“You’re so tight,” I grind out as I set a steady pace that has the base of my spine tingling with my need to come.

Not yet.

Not until she falls apart around me.

Not until she’s milking every drop from my aching balls.

“You’re so big,” she snaps back, earning herself a chuckle.

I shove the other strap of her black dress off her shoulder and tug it down until both her tits are on display. She has a nice fucking rack, I’ll give her that.

They’re just big enough that a little spills over my fingers as I squeeze them. I drop my head and lap at her nipple, causing her pussy to lock down on me and her soft moans to get louder.

Her body is far too responsive to me, and it’s making it really fucking hard to remember why I can’t come right the fuck now.

I increase my pace, fucking into her so hard the desk shifts with every thrust, but I don’t care. I’m never going to be able to work in here again without thinking of my kitten, something I should absolutely not do once I’m married.

All restraint falls away when she wraps her legs around my hips and starts meeting me with every thrust.

“You better come, Kitten,” I growl out. “Come all over my cock. I want to feel you milk me.”

“So close,” she moans, her head tipping back and giving me her throat.

Without thinking, I lean forward and bite down on the place where her neck and shoulder meet, and the pain is exactly what she needs to detonate around me.

Her entire body trembles as her orgasm crashes over her, and I have no hope of holding myself back.

My balls tighten to the point of pain a moment before they explode into the condom. Dark spots cloud my vision as we keep grinding together, desperate to wring every ounce of pleasure from the other, even as exhaustion descends over me.

Jesus, when was the last time I came that hard?

Have I ever come that hard?

My kitten’s body sags slightly, only held up by my hold on her as her eyes fall closed and she drags in desperate breaths.

She looks so pretty, freshly fucked, and the more I stare down at her, the more I dread her walking out the door.

It’s ridiculous. I haven’t cared about a member of the opposite sex in years, and yet the thought of watching this one walk away from me is doing weird things to the heart I thought was long dead.

It’s just because she’s the last woman you get to choose to fuck, I reason with myself.

Yeah, that makes sense.

One last fuck before a lifetime of the same woman that I didn’t choose for myself.

That’s got to be it.

She presses against my chest softly, and I take a step back, groaning as my softening cock slips from her tight heat.

I step away to deal with the condom, and when I look back toward her, she’s righted her dress and is walking toward the door.

“Hey,” I say softly, hoping it’ll stop her from reaching for the door, but it doesn’t. “You don’t have to run out.”

She looks over her shoulder. The vibrant blue that I’ve become so used to in such a short amount of time is wet with tears. “It’s better this way.” She shrugs. “Have a nice life, Mystery Man.”

I move to follow her, but my pants are still around my ankles. I tug them up roughly, barely taking the time to do them up before I chase her out the door, but she’s nowhere to be seen.

A thread of panic tugs at my chest, but I ignore it, shoving it away so I don’t have to think through why I’m chasing her down.

Frantically, I look around the club.

Bodies grind against one another, the room only illuminated by moving lights that make it impossible to lock onto any one person.

It’s only once I’ve done two laps of the place that I realize I’ve lost her, and I try not to think about why that makes me so fucking sad.

T he front door slams behind me as I throw my keys onto the entry table.

When I killed my father, I should have moved back into the family estate, but it’s my mom’s home, and I didn’t want her to feel like she had to move out.

So instead, I bought a property a few miles up the hill, giving me a view of the entire city.

Usually, I like the solitude. I thrive on how far away the rest of humanity is, but as I step into my final night here by myself, I find myself feeling far too lonely.

“What the fuck is wrong with me?” I ask myself in a whisper.

I pass a pile of boxes I haven’t gotten around to moving up to my almost-wife’s new bedroom. Technically, she should share the master with me, but I have no interest in having a stranger in my bed, so until we get to know each other, she’ll be locked out of my room.

Does that make me cold? Probably. But I don’t give a fuck.

I know what you’re thinking. That it’s hypocritical that I’m feeling all torn up about a stranger I fucked on my desk at the club, but the woman I’m going to spend the rest of my life with, I refuse to let her sleep in the marital bed, but it’s different.

We need time to get used to each other, and forcing her into my bed is only going to make our relationship feel even more forced than it is.

A loud meow rings through the too-empty foyer, and I roll my eyes as the orange tub of lard masquerading as a cat walks toward me with practiced confidence.

“What’s your problem? I fed your ungrateful ass before I left,” I mutter, giving him a wide berth as I pass him, but don’t manage to avoid his claws as he swipes at me. “What the fuck, Asshole?”

He certainly got his name for a reason, even if my sister always gives me shit about calling my cat a curse word.

He’s sweet as pie when she comes here, but with me, you’d think I starved him the way he takes any opportunity to tear into me.

You’re probably wondering why I have a cat, seeing as we seem to hate one another, and I wonder the same thing often.

But the thing the realtor didn’t tell me when I bought this place is that it came with this dick, a stray that had hung around the grounds for years. Except when I moved in, he decided it was time to become an indoor cat, and now he spends his days tormenting me and my very expensive suits.

Another loud meow is accompanied by another series of scratches to my ankles.

“You’re a real dick, you know that?” I grumble, heading toward the kitchen where his treats are kept.

After the first day, when he refused to leave, I figured it was cruel not to feed him, and I may kill people as part of my job, but I don’t hurt animals. I’m not that big of a piece of shit.

Then came the litter box after the third rug he destroyed.

And then the trip to the vet to make sure he was healthy. A trip that cost me an arm and a leg, as well as scratches to every part of my body when I tried to get the little fucker into the carrier.

But what would you know, the vet nurses gushed about what a sweet boy he was for them.

I’m honestly starting to think he’s the reincarnation of someone I really fucked over in a past life, because that’s the only way I can think that I would end up with the world’s biggest dick of a cat.

I drop a few treats into his bowl, which seems to distract him from his hatred toward me for long enough to escape to my bedroom.

It’s only once I have the door closed behind me and I lean against it that I realize I’m covered in the scent of the woman from the club. Instead of dropping the suit into the hamper as I normally would, I lay it over the back of the chair in the corner, unable to part with my kitten just yet.

Tomorrow, I marry a woman I’ve never met, but tonight I’ll fall asleep thinking about the one that got away, even if it’s just for one night.