Page 168 of Cashmere Ruin

“Fuck me,” I gasp. “I need you.”

I’m so wet I could come from his gaze alone, but he doesn’t let me. Instead, he parts my legs ferociously and yanks me forward until our hips are flush together. Until there can’t possibly be a distinction between us.

Then he sinks into me.

I grab the sheets and twist them in my hands. I know this isn’t our wedding night, but it feels like it is. All the ingredients are here: a vow, a kiss, a bed. His rough palms on my breasts, his hard cock pushing its way into me. I lock my ankles at the small of his back, refusing to let go.

“April,” he groans. “Fuck,April.I can’t… I need to?—”

“Do it,” I rasp. “I’m yours.”

That’s all it takes to convince him.

He throws one leg around his shoulder and starts fucking me in earnest, spearing me open with every thrust. There’s no self-control in it, no restraint—only raw, selfish need.

“Just like that,” I moan. “Just like that, Matvey, I—ahh?—”

He finds my hand and covers it with his. I can feel his warm fingers fill the gaps between mine. His mouth descends on me: hungry, primal, possessive. Like he can’t bear to have a single inch of empty space between us. His cock keeps pistoning inside me, trying to reach the deepest part of me.

“Matvey, I’m gonna?—”

“Come for me,” he snarls. “Come for me,kalina.Only for me.”

“For you,” I promise. “Only for you.”

Then I see white.

It’s the most intense orgasm I’ve ever had. For a second, it’s like my body doesn’t belong to me at all; like it belongs tohim.Pleasure sparks so hot, I’m afraid I’m going to pass out, but Matvey doesn’t let me. He just keeps going.

So I come again. And again, and again, until I lose track of it all: my pleas, my cries, my prayers. Night turning into day. Into everything.

Everything forus.

By the time I manage to grab a shower, it’s well into the day. “Morning.” I smile as I step out.

“Morning,” Matvey greets, even though it’s almost noon. “Slept well?”

“No,” I laugh. “Not a wink. You made sure of that.”

“That I did.” He presses a kiss to my ring finger, the one with the ribbon still tied. Even under the spray, I refused to take it off. “My future wife deserves nothing less.”

Wife.It still seems so unreal, so dreamlike. “Maybe we should just elope. Next month, I mean.”

“Mhmm.”

“Planning weddings is expensive.”

“I can do expensive.”

“And time-consuming.”

“Someone’s in a rush to lock me down.”

“Can you blame me?”

I say it jokingly, but Matvey’s eyes turn intense, his hand coming to hold mine. “No,” he says. “Anything you want.”

For a second, words fail me. I don’t think I’ll ever get used to it: being on the other side of that look. The sheer adoration in it.

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