Page 141 of Gilded Cage (Kovalyov Bratva 1)

“Are you?”

“Those fuckers couldn’t shoot for shit,” I growl. “I’m fine.”

“That’s not what I mean,” Esme says. “You buried your father today. And you didn’t even get to bury him properly.”

My chest constricts. “I’m fine,” I repeat gruffly.

I move to turn from her.

But she grabs my hand before I can go.

“Stop,” she says, with such natural authority in her voice that it takes me by surprise. “Look at me, Artem.”

I freeze. Then, with a sigh, I turn to face my wife.

“Why do you think showing vulnerability makes you weak?” she asks me.

“You don’t want to see my vulnerability.”

“You think it’ll scare me off. Make me fear you. Or worse—pity you.”

I look her square in the eyes. My silence serves as my answer.

She reaches out and places her hand on my chest. I can feel myself gravitate towards her, like she’s a magnet drawing me closer.

Sighing again, I lean in and rest my forehead against hers.

“Tell me honestly now,” she whispers. “What do you need, Artem?”

I think about it for a millisecond at most.

But I already know the answer. It coats my tongue like a prayer.

“You.”

She cups my face with her palm and then her lips reach up to mine.

They linger softly for a second before I grab her and pull her into the circle of my arms.

My hands float over her body and land on her ass.

I grip her firmly and lift her up, tucking her legs around my hips, and then I carry her to the waiting bed.

We sink onto the soft covers together, her hands wrapped around my neck as she continues to kiss me. I strip off her panties and bra delicately.

When she’s naked, she removes her hands from around my neck and reaches for the buttons of my shirt. She goes slow, her eyes thick with lust and something deeper as she removes each button and pushes it off my shoulders.

My shirt hits the ground and she reaches for my pants at once. I’m so hard that it takes some maneuvering to get them off.

When I’m naked just like her, she wraps her hand around my girth and strokes slowly, her eyes fixed on my face.

She rubs me slowly as I pepper her neck and breasts with kisses.

I’m ready to enter her, but when I go to spread her thighs apart, she pushes me off her.

“What is it?” I ask, frowning.

She doesn’t answer.

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