Page 108 of Cashmere Cruelty

When I answer the door, I don’t let Matvey speak. I grab his tie and yank it down, claiming those rough lips with mine. Matvey makes a surprised sound in his throat, but it doesn’t take a second before he starts kissing back. Just as passionate, just as hungry.

This manwantsme, I want to scream through the phone.This man claimed me in the only way that matters.

When I finally break away, panting against Matvey’s chest, big hands slide down my hips. With a firm pull, they bring us flush together.

Immediately, I feel how hard he is. How badly he desires me. With a gasp, I run my hands everywhere, itching to claw and own and touch.

Usually, that’s his role. Right now, though, I don’t care who leads this dance. I just want to move until I can’t think.

“Someone’s impatient tonight,” Matvey growls against my ear, making me shiver from head to toe.

“Yes,” I breathe. “So come and take me.”

We stumble back into the penthouse, every step a hazard. Through our kisses, we can’t see anything but each other. The only care we take is not to squish what’s between us—the evidence my mother wouldn’t believe. Our child.

The child we made just like this.

Once we’re at the couch, I push Matvey down on it. I have no illusions: if he wanted to, he could flip me around like a ragdoll. Take me on my back, on my knees.

But he doesn’t. Instead, he sits back and lets me climb into his lap, lets my hands roam all over his firm, taut body. Until he’s half-naked and so am I.

“Something happened, didn’t it?” Matvey asks, eyes dark and hooded. It looks like it’s taking everything—every ounce of self-control—just to push the words out.

I don’t want them. Tonight, I don’t want a single thought to cross my mind. “Just fuck me.”

“April.”

“Fuck me,” I rasp. “Please.”

Matvey groans into my neck. A big palm comes to gather my wrists together, pinning them behind my back.

I let out a whine. “Matvey…”

But then I feel his other hand start to work. It slides between us, where it matters, popping buttons and yanking flies, pushing my panties aside so his thick cock can sink?—

“You want this?” Matvey snarls, all animal, showing me how it works. Showing me how to move my hips just right, how to ride him. “Then come and get it.”

And by God, I do.

32

MATVEY

“And then she said, ‘If the shoe fits, dear.’ If the shoe fits! Can you believe it?”

April’s voice rises in shrilly outrage. She slaps the water and it ripples throughout the pool, as if trying to get away from her fury. I can understand the sentiment. Right now, I wouldn’t want to be in the way of April’s fury, either.

“That nasty… Ugh!” April slumps back into me, deflated. “Faking my pregnancy. What a joke.”

I can’t help but agree. I’m doubly glad I asked Grisha for that additional background check: a woman like this isn’t safe to have around my child.

Or my child’s mother.

Anyone who’s known April for more than five minutes could tell her problem isn’t lying: it’s honesty. Wearing her heart on her sleeve at all times, no matter who’s on the other side of it. Getting it broken so often she’s taught herself how to mend it back together. How to fix the unfixable.

Eleanor Hill is lucky that I don’t know where she lives.

Yet.

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