Page 65 of The One Night Match
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 freehand. 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.”
THIRTY-FOUR
CRUZ
Riley’s eyes widen almost comically, and I use her surprise to my advantage…again.
It seems my wife is easy to shock, which gives me the opportunity to lift her from my face and drag her down my body until her pussy hovers over my weeping cock.
He’s desperate for her, so much so that I’m a little worried I might come the second she sinks onto me. Between the taste of her on my tongue and her screams of pleasure being permanently burned into my brain, I don’t think I’m going to be able to hold myself back.
I fold my arms behind my head, forcing myself not to touch her as I stare up into her vibrant blue eyes. “Ride me, Kitten. Give me a show.”
Her mouth drops open like she’s about to argue, but instead she plants both hands onto the center of my chest and slowly lowers herself.
We let out a mutual moan of pleasure as she sinks further onto my cock, her soaking wet heat accepting me with ease.
Once she’s seated, she gives herself a few seconds to breathe while her pussy flutters around me, pushing me closer to the edge despite her not moving.
Jesus. This woman is humbling.
I spent years priding myself on being able to go for hours, but every time I get inside her, I’m like a teenage boy losing his virginity again.
