Page 97 of Cashmere Cruelty
I grin. “Go on, then. Take what you need.”
I can hear it when she does. There’s a wet sound of fingers breaching, then a whimper. “Ah—ahh?—”
“Come for me,” I growl, close enough to taste it. “Let me hear it, April.”
“Matvey—!”
A high-pitched moan pierces my ears, and then I’m coming, too, following my little vixen over the edge.
Hot cum spills out over my hand and pools in the crevices of my hips. It feels like it’s ripped from a deeper source than I’ve ever tapped before. Like it was meant for her and her alone.
I catch my breath as the mental whiteout fades and reality comes rushing back in. That was… intense. More intense than I’d expected, for sure.
But then again, April Flowers always manages to defy expectations.
Expectations.The word settles heavily in my stomach. There are no expectations between us—no commitments other than the one growing inside her belly. Even if we did break our promise to keep our distance, the most important one still stands:This means nothing.
That’s the only vow worth keeping.
When I come back to the present, April’s still panting softly in my ear. “Need a hand?” I joke.
“Mm. I hate that you weren’t even here, but now, I can’t stand.”
“Consider it part of the service package. In-person or remote—exchange if unsatisfied.”
A quiet snort. “You’re a real comedian, aren’t you?”
“Don’t let my men hear you say that. My reputation would never recover.”
It’s strange, how mellow I get after this. Afterher.With other women, all I felt was the crawling urge to get away.
With April, I keep wanting to make it last just a little longer.
“Well, I’d love to stay for more of your pitch,” April yawns, clearly exhausted by our little marathon. “But I’m afraid Dr. Allan’s gonna be here in half an hour. So I really need to grab a shower.”
For a second, I try to picture it: April, fucked out of her mind, spreading her legs for her lady doctor with my seed still warm between them.
Fuck.I’d better take my shower cold.
“See you tonight,” I murmur, letting an unspoken promise fill the air between us.
April doesn’t miss it. “See you tonight,” she echoes, voice quivering with anticipation.
Then the call disconnects.
Outside, the sun is rising. I consider going back to sleep for a moment. Like this, satisfied and spent, I could easily down another three hours.
But the sooner I get to work, the sooner I can clock out.
And the sooner I can finish what we started.
29
APRIL
Like everything else in the Matvey Groza Bat Cave, the bathtub is big.Like, ridiculously big. Bigger than would make sense for the laws of physics.
“Someone’s having fun,” Matvey comments dryly, watching me starfish in the tub-slash-indoor pool.