Page 222 of Cashmere Ruin

His eyes go dark, hooded. Hungry in a million different ways. “What amIgoing to do withyou?”

Then he dives back under my skirts.

At the first lap of his tongue, I bite my lip so hard I draw blood. But I can’t afford anything less—if I don’t, everyone out there will hear me.

Except that Matvey seems determined to accomplish just that. “Don’t hide,” he rasps. “Let me hear your pretty little voice sing.”

So I do. I throw my head back against the wall and moan as Matvey’s tongue spells doom inside of me. With one leg hooked around his neck and five manicured nails digging into his scalp, I feel like the dirtiest bride who’s ever lived.

I don’t know how long he goes on: minutes, hours, days. Like he’s eating me alive.

“Matvey,” I gasp. I’m so close I can taste it, but it scares me, too. How good it feels—this rising wave of pure pleasure. How strong it’ll hit when it finally crests and crashes. “I can’t…!”

“Then don’t.”

That’s all it takes. I push his mouth fully on me, shameless in my undone bridal gown, and ride out my orgasm.

When Matvey rises back to me, I hook both arms around his shoulders. “Bed,” I demand. “Now.”

He doesn’t make me ask twice.

My feet lose solid ground again. He carries me all the way across the room, to the giant four-poster bed at the end. It looks lavish—fit for a king.

And his queen, I remind myself.

He lays me down gently, but there’s no mistaking the hunger in his eyes. “I am going to keep you up all night.”

He slips off my shoes and presses a reverent kiss to the side of my foot, then my ankle. With every kiss upward, I shiver a little more. Matvey’s lips graze all the most forgettable parts of me, the ones that even I forget I have: the underside of my calf, the dip in my knee, the birthmark under my belly button. Places that should be worth nothing in a situation like this, and yet he makes them feel so precious.

He makesmefeel precious.

And suddenly, the same hunger flares up in me: the burning urge toconsume.To show Matvey just how much I want him, too.

“Lie back,” I whisper.

He arches one eyebrow at me, but doesn’t protest. He doesn’t exactly go full starfish, but strips off his clothes and sits up against the headboard, which is about as submissive as he’s ever going to get.Pakhanpride and all that.

But that’s okay. I don’t need him to submit. I just need him exactly where he is.

I shed my wedding dress and crawl into his lap. My panties have already been unceremoniously ripped off—not that I’d expected any different. In fact, it just makes my job easier.

“What’s this?” he smirks.

When I take him in hand, he’s already dripping. “Me being a good wife.”

Then I sink.

“Fuck,” he swears as I pop the tip in. “Fuck.”

Honestly, I’m right there with him.

I savor the drag of his length inside me, inch by torturous inch. I take him slowly, my gaze fixed on Matvey’s hooded eyes, determined to catch every fleeting expression.

If I’m his, then he’s mine, too.

I start moving. “Husband,” I breathe.

Matvey bites back a curse. “Say it again.”