Page 161 of Cashmere Cruelty

Why?

Even now, it’s more of the same. I should be getting ready for work, but for some reason, I’m still in bed with her. Watching the rise and fall of her pregnant belly as she sleeps, wrapped in sheets and nothing else.

As if sensing my eyes on her, April stirs. “Mmph’nning.”

I quirk an eyebrow. “Am I supposed to know what that means?”

She finally drags her face away from the pillow. “G’morning.”

I push my thoughts from my mind. “If you want to be convincing, you should try that with your eyes open.”

Big mistake. As soon as those hazel irises are on me, I remember exactly how I lost the battle in the first place. “Top o’ the mornin’ to ya,” she salutes. As she straightens up, the sheets drop off of her entirely. “Better?”

“Much,” I answer with a pointed look.

She tries to snatch the sheets back, but I yank them to my side. “Hey!”

“Bit late to get shy on me, Ms. Flowers.”

“I’m not shy; I’m cold.”

It’s a bold-faced lie: her cheeks are so red you could cook eggs on them.

It’s the wrong thought to have. Because now, I’m picturing eating breakfast right off her skin, and it’s making me fucking ravenous.

But not for food.

“Where do you think you’re going?” I ask, my tone commanding.

“Uhh, to shower?”

I wall her in with my body. “Not until I say so, you’re not.”

I dip my head into the crook of her neck and bite. Her reaction is instant—she chokes out a gasp, hands flying to dig into my back.

I press one finger into her, find her slick and willing. Still fucked open from last night, streaks of dried cum between her thighs. “Matvey…!”

I want to mark her everywhere. Want my scent on every inch of her. Until there couldn’t possibly be any doubt who she belongs to.

I’m not anyone’s. I’m Matvey Groza; I belong to myself alone.

But April Flowers ismine.

How?asks the last scrap of my reason.Why? What is she to you?

I don’t answer. I don’t feel like bothering with semantics right now. Or at least, that’s what I tell myself.

“Matvey,” April whines under me. “Matvey,please.”

I line up my cock against her wet pussy. I’m nearly inside, the tip already pressing into tight walls, April’s moans echoing in my ears?—

And then my goddamn phone rings.

I’m tempted to ignore it. So, so fucking tempted.

But then I remember all my missteps these past few weeks: the lack of attention at meetings, the forgotten report on my desk?—

Cursing, I whisk up my phone. “What.”

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