Page 96 of Cashmere Cruelty

I let out a hiss. My hand’s working faster now. I can feel the slick of precum all over my fingers. Closing my eyes, I pretend it comes from her. “Don’t go in yet. If you do, I’ll know.”

April makes a quiet sound of protest. “I thought that was… the point… of phone sex?”

Already so far gone.I squeeze myself at the base, forcing my excitement to slow down. I want to make this last.

And I want to hear her come first.

“I’ll decide what the point is.”

Another low whine. “Fuck.”

“Language,” I chastise. But truthfully, it makes me fucking throb. It’s so rare to hear April swear—every instance is a gift. It makes my chest swell with pride.

Well, that and something else.

“Touch your clit,” I command, softer now. Lower. “Pretend it’s my tongue. Wet your fingers at your entrance, but donotgo in.”

It’s an exercise in restraint—not coming from the sounds alone. “You’re such an asshole,” April whimpers, all the while doing exactly what I ordered her to. I can tell from the wet noises of her fingers, the gentle slide that isn’t quite pumping.

Not yet.

“Good girl. Keep going.”

A few panting breaths break against my ears. I roll my hips into my grip, bucking up. “You—goddamn—prick?—”

“You don’t even know the half of it.”

A moan, long and deep. “Oh, you’ll pay for this…!”

“Yeah?” I quip. “I was thinking I’d get a reward.”

“Not a chan—ahh…!”

“Here’s what I had in mind,” I continue, feeding on her stream of insults. With every word, my cock grows harder, impatient. “First, I’ll lap up all those sweet juices of yours. Get my appetizer straight from the source. You with me so far?”

“Mhmm…”

Fuck. We haven’t been at this five minutes, and she’s already moaning like that.This little vixen will be the death of me.

I force myself to focus on the scene. On this little game of ours—one I intend on winning. “Then I’d fill you up nice and easy. My fingers first, then my cock.”

“Ahh…!”

“I’d dip the head in. Grind it against that sweet spot of yours, but without relief. If you wanted more, you’d have to beg for it.”

“Matvey…”

“Beg,kalina.I promise I’m a reasonable man.”

That’s a lie. Right now, I’m feeling anything but reasonable. I want to grip those full hips of hers until they’re bruised in the shape of my hands and sink in, without giving myself a moment to breathe.

Without giving her a moment to breathe.

Eventually, her pride breaks. It always does in the end. “Please,” she whispers, barely audible.

“What was that?”

“Please,” she blurts out again, frustrated. “Please, Matvey, I need?—!”