Gilded Cage: A Russian Mafia Romance (Kovalyov Bratva Book 1) Nicole Fox (people reading books TXT) 📖

tree that he’d chopped for wood to fuel the fireplace.

I feel the bark brush against the backs of my bare thighs before Artem pushes me backwards. I yelp in surprise, but then my ass lands on the stump with an oof.

Artem is on me in an instant. He pushes my legs apart, his fingers twisting in my hair as he pulls my head back.

I moan against him, right into his open-mouthed kiss. I’m trembling with want as I bite down on his lower lip.

The bite is a little harder than I intended. In fact, I feel the warm trickle of blood. Artem rears back in surprise.

But his dark eyes are equal parts surprised and turned on.

“So you like it rough, huh, mountain woman?” he asks teasingly.

“Is that what you’d call rough?” I fire back with a wild grin. “I’ve told you before: I’m stronger than you think.”

Some deep, carnal passion ignites in his eyes.

Before I can correctly name it, he yanks me hard by one arm off the tree stump. Then he spins me around so that my back is to him and immediately shoves me right back over onto my elbows.

His hands scrabble against the hem of my dress. He flips it up, yanks down my panties, and then delivers one hard spank—real fucking hard, actually—to each cheek.

The burn sizzles even as he rubs the pain away.

And between my thighs is a puddle of need.

“Is this what you want?” Artem growls.

Fuck, when his voice gets that deep and rough around the edges…

“More,” I gasp, even though I’m not sure how much more I can take. “I want more than that.”

I hear a growl, low in his throat. Pure animal. Pure lust. Pure man.

I get that much wetter.

There’s a tiny lull. The rustling of fabric—Artem pushing his shorts down, maybe? But when I try to look back, I feel instead his fingers seize the roots of my hair and press my face down roughly against the smooth top of the tree stump.

I moan. “I want to see you,” I whimper in a frail, desperate voice.

He doesn’t bother replying. Just spanks me again, harder than the first time.

I scream and try to wriggle away, but there’s nowhere to go. He has me pinned here, blinded, ass in the air. Vulnerable as it gets.

His cock teases against my opening. Just the very tip—pushing and retreating, pushing and retreating.

It’s fucking maddening.

“Artem!” I plead. He’s killing me slowly like this. I need more of him. All of him.

Or I might just fucking explode.

“Say my name again, baby,” he orders through gritted teeth.

I don’t hesitate for even a second. Just a string of whimpers: “Artem, Artem, Artem…”

“Beg me to fuck you.”

“Fuck me, baby,” I implore. “Please, I want you inside me… Please just fuck me…”

And then he finally gives me what I’m begging for.

My husband rams himself inside me with a pressure that takes my breath away. I scream out, my voice carrying across the trees and through the mountains.

Wind laps around us, but all I’m truly aware of is how perfectly we fit together and how whole I feel when Artem is inside me.

Our lovemaking is always different. Sometimes it’s slow and tender. Other times, it’s fast, desperate, clinging, rough.

But this is somehow more.

Artem grips me so hard that it feels as though he’s going to leave the imprints of his fingers on my hips. His hips slam against my ass, each thrust more vigorous, more violent than the last.

All I can do is grip the sides of the rough-edged bark and let each thrust drive the breath out of me.

“Fuck,” Artem groans. “Fuck… I’m gonna come.”

“A minute longer, baby,” I gasp. “I’m almost there.”

I feel his muscles tighten as he keeps fucking me, harder and harder, until I feel the wave rise.

“Yes,” I gasp. “Oh, yes…”

Then the orgasm hits me, full-bore raging through my body, and for a moment, it feels like I’m being swallowed by the warmest, most luxurious ocean.

It’s the best feeling in the world.

When it finally subsides, I’m glowing.

My cheek is raw from rubbing against the tree stump and my thighs are trembling from the effort of staying upright.

But I don’t mind. I couldn’t care less about those things.

“Fuck,” Artem breathes as he pulls out of me.

I can feel his cum drip down my legs, but I don’t mind the feeling. I like being his. I like that my body can make him feel the way he makes me feel.

I sigh deeply as my dress falls back down around my waist and I turn to face Artem. I run my fingers along his quivering length, realizing that there’s a new sheen of sweat coating his amazing body.

“How was that for a work-out?” I ask, with a smile.

“You fucking blow my mind,” he sighs.

I wrap my arms around him. “Have a shower with me.”

He takes my hand in his and we walk back into the cabin, into the bathroom. I usually boil some water before I get into the tub, but I’ve also gotten used to cool showers. It’s just quicker and more convenient. And it makes me feel stronger in the mornings, as though my blood flows a little quicker because of it.

Artem fills the tub and I start removing my clothes. He comes up behind me once I’m naked, his hands trailing over my back until they find my breasts.

In the span of a few days, I’ve actually felt them get bigger. They definitely look a whole lot bigger than when we first drove up this mountain.

“Love these beauties,” Artem says, as he ducks down and slips one of my nipples into his mouth.

I sigh and kind of lean into him. He laps at my breasts until I’m whimpering all over again. Then he lifts me up and places me gently down into the tub.

When I’m settled, he sits on the edge of the tub and swings his legs over. Water spills out of the tub onto the floor and I laugh at the sight of Artem’s huge, muscular