Gilded Tears: A Russian Mafia Romance (Kovalyov Bratva Book 2) Nicole Fox (no david read aloud TXT) 📖

“And now?” she asks.

“Now I’m thinking straight for the first time in months. And I know beyond a shadow of a doubt, that what’s best for you… is me.”

Her nostrils flare for a moment, whether from fear or anger, I can’t quite tell. Maybe it’s both.

“Are you still with the Bratva?” she asks.

“I’m standing here in front of you, aren’t I?” I say, choosing my words carefully. “I came for you.”

She stills for a moment, as a blind, desperate hope floods her face. I know how my words come across. I know how she’s interpreting them.

And miserable bastard that I am, I don’t correct her.

Because correcting her might be risking the opportunity I have in front of me right now.

The opportunity for her to hear me, listen to me, give me a chance to show her what life could be if we were together.

“You did?”

“Yes,” I rasp. “The Bratva means nothing if I don’t have you, Esme.”

Her eyes are filled with tears. The gold of her irises are like beacons and I can’t stop myself any longer.

I grab her neck, running my fingers over her jaw for a moment.

Her hand settles on my chest as her eyes lock onto mine.

I see the desire flare on her face just before I slam my mouth down on hers.

She releases a moan that reverberates inside me, setting off a long-suppressed urge that I’ve been fighting these many months.

Her lips part easily underneath mine and I feel her tongue wrestling back as I push her up against her shitty apartment wall.

She feels tiny against me. As lean and lithe as ever. Like she didn’t just give birth.

But I move carefully anyways. Her body gave us a son. As much as I want to ravage her, break her just to build her back together—I also want to respect the miracle.

It’s the same struggle as always for us.

Violent love can’t run unchecked.

But fires need sparks to come to life.

I pick her up and her legs wrap around my waist. I’m already hard, painfully hard, but I ignore the strain in my pants as I pull the white cotton dress off Esme’s shoulders.

The dress comes apart in my hands and I toss it to the side. She’s not wearing a bra, and only a pair of tiny black panties.

She gasps as my head dips down towards her breasts. They’re the only part of her that has gotten bigger. I cradle the beautiful round globes in my hands, exploring them greedily.

“Don’t squeeze too hard,” she warns me, mid-moan. “I’ll start lactating.”

Fuck.

I didn’t think that was the kind of thing that would turn me on, but apparently, it does. My cock jumps impatiently and I know I need to get my pants off immediately.

I gently run my tongue over her nipples without putting much pressure on them. She groans with pleasure as I slip my hand into her panties and start running my fingers between her lips.

She’s nice and wet already. I reach up for the swollen nub of her clit.

“Oh, Artem,” she groans.

I can tell from her breathless moans that she’s been craving me as much as I’ve been craving her.

Unable to take it anymore, I fumble with the buckle of my pants, but Esme’s hands reach out and push my hands away.

She takes over and undoes my buckle and zipper. I don’t think she even notices the gun strapped to the waistband as she pushes down my pants, then my boxers.

As they pool around my ankles, I step out of them and kick them both away. But before I grab hold of her, Esme has ducked down until she’s on her knees in front of me.

She looks up at me with hungry eyes as her hand circles around my shaft. She keeps her eyes on me as she strokes my cock. Then I watch as her tongue slips out and starts stroking against me.

“Fuck,” I growl. My eyes close involuntarily.

I’m not prepared for when she takes the entire length of me into her mouth, shoving me so far deep inside her that I hit the back of her throat.

“Fuck,” I groan again. I lean forward to grip the wall with both hands.

She doesn’t stop or slow down. She sucks me off, harder and harder until my hand lands on the top of her head.

I want to come right in her mouth, but I stop the urge and pull her back to her feet. It’s been months since I’ve touched her.

I want to be able to look my wife in the eye when I explode.

I scoop Esme up and carry her to the low sofa that’s pushed to one corner of the apartment.

Before her back even hits the cushions, I’ve pushed my cock deep inside her.

She clings to me as I thrust into her. I want to take it slow, but I don’t have the restraint to manage that right now.

This is a desperate fuck. A fuck months in the making.

There’ll be time for lovemaking later.

This is something far more primal.

Her full breasts bounce in my face and I feel her body tighten as the orgasm rolls over her.

Her nails dig into my back. I welcome the little darts of pain she’s sending through my body.

“Fuck… Artem… yeah…”

Then her walls tighten around my cock and they pulse violently as she comes. Her eyes roll back in her head. Waves rip through her.

And the moment I see her face relaxed into the ebb of satisfaction, I let myself go, too.

I erupt inside her. She rides the shock waves as we both pant deeply.

Slowly, it recedes, though it feels like we’re coming together for an hour.

Then her body relaxes underneath mine, and when I lift my face off her neck, I see the contentment draped across her features.

She meets my gaze and gives me a dazed smile. I kiss her lips softly and push myself off her. I’m pretty damn sure the sofa is gonna collapse under our combined weight.

She makes no attempt to move or cover herself