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

“You talking to me?”

My hands slide down between her bare thighs, while my eyes dip down to the tops of her breasts. It feels like they’ve gotten bigger in the last two days alone.

She opens her mouth as if to say something and then snaps it shut again.

“What?”

“Nothing,” she replies. “It’s not important.”

“What you want is important,” I tell her.

“Yeah?”

“Definitely,” I nod. “I just want you to be happy, Esme.”

I like this. Can’t see much in the darkness. Can only hear, and touch, and whisper. It feels like we can be more honest now than we can when the sun is illuminating things.

She traces her fingers over the underside of my wrist where it’s trapped between her legs.

“Even if it’s directly opposed to what you want?” she asks, as though she’s embarrassed to be asking the question at all.

“Esme, I know you never wanted this,” I say. “I forced this on you. This life. This marriage. I—”

She grabs my hands and pulls them to her chest, cutting off the rest of my sentence.

“It was the best thing I was forced into, though,” she says, taking me by surprise. “I know I’m probably setting feminism back a few decades by admitting that, but it’s my truth.”

I smile. This kind of intimacy isn’t second nature to me.

I pull her back to me. “I want you to know that I have been thinking a lot about our plan,” I tell her. “I know what you want. I’m trying to see if that’s possible.”

“Have you spoken to Cillian about it?” she asks.

“No, I haven’t,” I admit. “It’s something I need to discuss face to face.”

I had called him yesterday and we’d had another chat. I’d tried several times to bring up the fact that I was thinking of abandoning my claim to the Bratva and just handing it over to Budimir.

But I just couldn’t bring myself to say the words out loud.

Every time I tried, my throat constricted in protest.

I want to make this decision for myself and no one else. But still, that toxic thought at the back of my head keeps ticking incessantly.

Stanislav will be rolling in his grave knowing what you’re thinking..

My father is dead, I tell myself a dozen times over.

But it doesn’t matter. The shame of relinquishing my right to the Bratva settles over me like a weight I can’t shake.

So why am I giving Esme hope?

Because you want to believe in it as much as she does.

Sometimes I forget what sweet nectar denial is.

“Are you hungry?” Esme asks, cutting through my thoughts.

Grateful for the distraction, I focus my attention on her. Even after all this time, her hazel eyes are still arresting as ever. They draw me in every single fucking time.

“I thought we already established that I’m fucking starving,” I say, grabbing her ass and squeezing hard.

She laughs and tries to get away from me, but I pin her down between my arms as I roll on top of her.

“Artem!” she screams.

I ignore her and nuzzle my way down her neck, between her bare breasts, to where her hips dip low.

“What do you think you’re doing, mister?” she demands, breathless with laughter.

“Taking what I want.”

It takes me only one quick pull to get her panties off. She slips in just that these days.

By then, I can see the lust igniting in her face. Her legs part willingly for me and I settle between them, running my tongue around her pussy lips first.

At first touch, she gasps and shudders before settling into the bed pillows with a sigh.

I tease her walls before plunging my tongue between them. Her hands find my hair and cling on her for dear life.

My cock strains in my boxers, but I ignore it for now and find her clit with my tongue. I lap at it and almost instantly, her juices flow.

Then I hoist myself up and settle over her without putting any weight on her belly. I slip two fingers inside her and explore her depths as her eyes close and she arches her neck backwards.

I finger-fuck her to a quick orgasm that explodes through her body, leaving a constellation of goosebumps in its wake.

I smile with satisfaction as I see her facial muscles relax with satisfaction while it ebbs down. She reaches for me, pulling my face down to hers so she can kiss me.

But just before our lips touch, she gasps. Her eyes widen suddenly.

“What’s wrong?” I say, getting off her immediately, ready to panic.

She shakes her head. To my surprise, a slow smile spreads across her face.

“Nothing,” she murmurs. “Absolutely nothing.”

“I don’t understand. What just happened?”

“I’ll show you,” she says. She reaches for my hand.

Then she takes it and presses my palm to the right side of her belly. I’m so concerned that for a moment I don’t even register the tiny fluttering kick that pushes against my hand through Esme’s stomach.

When it happens again, I freeze.

“Wait,” I say, my eyes going wide. “Was that…?”

“A kick,” Esme finishes. “Did you feel it?”

I lean in a little closer and press my palm down gently, waiting and hoping to feel another one.

And just then, I do.

It’s a more pronounced kick than the last one. Almost like the little creature in there wants to say hello.

“Fuck,” I breathe.

Esme staring at me with unshed tears in her eyes. She looks more fucking beautiful than I’ve ever seen her.

“Holy fuck,” I say again.

She laughs. “It’s amazing, isn’t it?” she asks.

I can only nod, speechless.

Esme smiles wider and places her hand over mine.

“That’s our baby in there,” she says softly.

I just look at her, feeling another little kick under my palm.

It makes me feel… small and infinite in the same moment. For a second, all my worries and concerns fade and my life is put in perspective.

Nothing else matters except Esme.

Nothing else matters but the child she’s carrying.

Maybe my purpose in life is the two of them.

For the first time since the Bratva takeover, I see myself walking away from it