Page 77 of Cashmere Cruelty

So I do.

I writhe on the ottoman, moaning shamelessly while Matvey ravages me. With his tongue, his teeth, his everything. I can feelthe trace of stubble on his chin when he turns to bite into my inner thigh, and that faint scrape drives me to madness.

I feel like a live wire. I’ve never been so sensitive in my whole damn life. “Matvey,” I call again, this time weaker. Wrecked in all the ways that count. “Matvey.”

Blindly, I reach for his hair. I make a fist around his roots, not to hurt, but to hold on. Otherwise, I feel like I might drown.

Matvey groans into my flesh, the sensation reverberating all the way inside me. “Blyat’, kalina.” His efforts redouble, eager to hear more broken moans from me. I’d laugh at the size of his ego, but truthfully, it’s the size of something else that’s haunting my mind right now.

I want it so bad. I want my baby daddy to flip me over and fuck me like he means it—but I also don’t want him to stop. I don’t want his mouth to leave me.

His teeth come out to play, rolling my clit between them, and I nearly white out from pleasure. “Matvey, I’m gonna?—”

My fist goes tight in his hair. Suddenly, it’s all too much: his tongue keeps lapping into me, hot and deep, and I simply can’t hold on any longer.

I come with a scream. I’ve never been a screamer, not once in my life, but apparently, that’s another thing Matvey Groza’s made me: pregnant, andloud.

Loud enough to want to die afterwards, shame curling over me in the wake of pleasure. How far is it to the balcony, I wonder? Maybe I could make it. I was always a fast sprinter.

But Matvey doesn’t let me. In fact, Matvey doesn’t let me go anywhere. “Hips up,kalina,” he commands instead, and all butyanks me to the edge of the ottoman, rising with my legs in his grip. The back of my thighs is flush against his rock-hard chest—and it’s not long until I feel a rock-hard something else pressing against me, demanding entrance.

I look up. Matvey’s staring at me from above like a vengeful god, ready to take back what’s rightfully his.

Do it, a shameful part of me whispers.I’m yours.

“April,” he rasps, voice dark and serious. It makes me pay attention. “Is it safe?”

It takes me a moment to figure out what it means.Of course it’s safe, I think hazily, glancing down at my humongous belly.It’s not like you can get me double pregnant, right?

Then I realize:Oh.

He’s worried about the baby.

“Yes,” I breathe, for once sure of myself.

“Are you certain?”

Unless you don’t fuck me right this second. In that case, I’m gonna die, and Nugget’s gonna be pissed at you at least until college.“Yes, Matvey, you won’t break my water by pounding me into an ottoman. Now, just?—”

My voice breaks. It’s like all sound has been punched out of me: I can’t speak, I can’tbreathe.

All I can do isfeel.

Matvey’s face splits into a grin. A feral one, the kind that’s born in the wilderness. “Good.”

He’s already inside me. It’s just the tip, but it’s a big tip, and it splits me completely.

“Matvey,” I whine, rolling my hips to take him deeper, but he’s just as much of a sadist as the first day we met, when he tied up a poor, innocent tailor and had his wicked way with her—well, maybe not that innocent—because herefuses.

He doesn’t thrust, doesn’t move. Only grabs my thighs tighter and keeps me from moving, completely at his mercy.

“Nuh-uh,” he tuts, holding me perfectly still. “Not so fast,kalina.”

I want to die. Is it okay to want to die?

I can feel tears gathering at the corners of my eyes. Frustration, impatience—and, most of all, pleasure.

Because he’sthere.Inside-but-not-quite, just enough to give me a taste, to make me want to squirm for it.Begfor it.