Page 98 of Cashmere Cruelty

“Mhmm,” I hum in agreement. “It’s your fault, really. If you didn’t want me to have fun, you shouldn’t have put a spa in your penthouse.”

Rough lips graze the back of my neck. “Who says it wasn’t meant for fun?”

“Hand me another?” I try with my best puppy eyes.

Matvey gives me an impressed once-over. “Someone’s forgotten her manners.”

“Hand me another, pretty please?”

With an amused huff, Matvey presses a cheese cube to my mouth.

As I chew, a moan escapes me. “This is better than sex.”

“Careful,kalina.I just might let you starve.”

A shiver runs down my spine. Whenever Matvey growls his threats into my ear, I always want to push those boundaries. See how far he’s willing to take it.

I shake my head and force myself to focus on the food. If I keep thinking like this, it won’t be long before yet another part of me starts calling the shots. Again. “You’d never. I’m carrying our child here.”

“Which is the only reason I’m entertaining this.” His big palm comes to rest over my belly, rubbing circles into the taut skin under the hot water. “So don’t get used to it.”

Too late.“Yes, sir.”

A few minutes go by in silence. It’s strange how quickly that’s changed: before, Matvey’s silence was tense, charged. Now, the atmosphere between us has grown mellower, as relaxed as it could be. If it does get charged again, it’s for an entirely different reason.

I let my head loll to the side, nestled against the firmness of Matvey’s pecs. God, this man is wasted as apakhan.He’d make such an excellent mattress.

Never let him hear you say that, April.

“Your appointment with Dr. Allan,” Matvey brings up after a while. “Tell me about it.”

“There’s not much to say,” I reply, sinking further into hydromassage bliss. “Everything’s stable. No signs of fetal distress, no labor.”

“‘Cozy’, was it?”

“Yeah,” I groan. “Bit too cozy for my tastes. I’d like my bladder back, thank you.”

An amused huff. “So small, and already the boss of you.”

“The boss ofus,” I correct. “Don’t think you’ll be immune. I have it on good authority that babies are excellent brainwashers.”

“Is that so?”

“Mhmm. Especially when it comes to their daddies. One look into those big doll eyes, and you’ll forget anything else exists in the world.”

“That sounds a bit farfetched. Who told you that?”

“My mom.”

Silence falls again. This time, I can feel the undercurrent of unspoken questions in it. “She must have loved you very much to say that,” Matvey murmurs eventually, breaking the curtain of quiet.

“Yeah, right.” I let out a bitter laugh. “She was talking about Charlie, not me.”

“Your half-brother?”

“Mm.” I shift in the water, pulling up my knees. “It was the same with him, you know. The late birth. I was post-term, too, but Charlie must have broken some kind of record.”

“That long?”

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