Page 9 of Cashmere Cruelty

Right now, I make my own luck.

Another curse, this time just shy of my ear. “Damn.” Two fingers are pumping in and out of me now. It’s still nowhere near enough. “Like me that much, huh?”

“Fuck no,” I moan. “Ihateyou.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. You’re the worst customer I’ve ever had.”

That makes him laugh. “Well, then, I’d better fix that.”

The second I hear his fly being unzipped, my eyes dart downwards. For one moment, I wonder if I’m seeing things. Because there’s no way, right?

There’s no way anyone can be this big.

“Having second thoughts?” he taunts.

I glare at him and jut out my chin proudly. “Never.”

With a single drive of my hips, I wrap my legs fully around him. I revel in the shocked look on his face—but it’s his own damn fault. If he didn’t want me to move, he should’ve bound my ankles, too.

“How about you?” I breathe, pulling him closer. “‘Cause, if you’re too chicken, door’s right there.”

His face splits into a rare grin. “You asked for this, Ms. Flowers. Don’t go sending me a complaint in the morning.”

“That depends entirely on you.”

I can see the spark of a challenge in his eyes. The second he takes it, I know. “So be it.”

True to his word, he doesn’t give me another minute. Before I can take a single breath, he’s spreading my thighs wide, holding me up by the back of my knees. I cling to his waist with my lower body, suddenly terrified I might fall.

But he doesn’t let me fall.

He doesn’t let me do anything at all.

He grabs, and he pushes, and in one smooth thrust, he’s inside me.

I can feel him. I can feel every inch of him, driving into me with torturous slowness. He can’t afford anything less: one wrong move, and he might literally split me in half.

The thought turns me on in all the wrong ways.

“Harder,” I beg, canting my hips against his.

“Blyat’,” he groans again, that word that might meanFuck youorFuck me. Maybe just the first half of both. “So fucking tight.”

He starts thrusting inside me. Pulling out all the way before grinding back in, setting all my nerve endings on fire. His spare hand is playing with my clit, sending sparks skittering down my back with every touch.

I can’t find the voice to moan—it all feels too goddamn good. The stretch, the burn, everything. “Harder.”

“Careful,kalina.”

“I said fuck me harder!” I cry out, inhibitions forgotten.

With a savage drive of his hips, the stranger pins me to the wall—and stays there.Goddamn him. I cry out: I don’t know what secret button inside of me he hit, but I need him to do it again. Immediately. Repeatedly.

But he stays, ground to a complete halt.

“You don’t make the rules here, little flower,” the man growls. “Ido. So from now on, if you want something, you’ll learn to ask nicely.”

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