Page 179 of Gilded Cage (Kovalyov Bratva 1)

Don’t worry,I want to whisper.That won’t last much longer.

But I’m too busy pulling her nipple into my mouth to bother saying that out loud. There’s too much of her body left to explore. To reclaim.

I circle the peaked nipple with my tongue as my hand slides down her stomach to the trembling moistness between her legs.

I move aside the thin white panties that cover her slit and slip my finger inside her. She’s wetter than I anticipated and I can’t help relishing the surge of excitement that sends through me.

I explore the folds of her wetness while my tongue laps eagerly at each nipple. Esme’s head is lolling backwards and little moans escape from between her parted lips with each new sensation.

I could spend years like this. Tonguing every inch of my wife’s naked body. Listening to her cry out again and again.

But we don’t have years.

We have hours at most. Minutes, more likely.

And I intend to spend them doing much more than kissing.

I sink quickly to one knee, tear Esme’s flimsy panties down her thighs, and toss them over my shoulder. In the same motion, I pull her hips towards me and run my tongue between the silky folds of her pussy lips.

Esme doubles over and seizes onto my head, a tremor leafing through her body like a fault line.

“Artem!” she chokes out.

She wants mercy.

But I have none of that to spare.

I grab her leg and hike it over my shoulder so I can delve deeper. I start licking her folds, pushing my tongue inside only long enough to make her desperate for more. When little beads of perspiration start to dot her skin, I roll my tongue around her clit and suck hard.

“Fuck… Artem!”

My name tears from her lips again. She tries to swallow it back in underneath another moan, but it’s too late for that. It’s far too fucking late now.

My cock throbs painfully in my pants, but I ignore the ache and focus on the taste of Esme. Her pussy is sweeter than her fucking mouth and she coats my tongue with a salty nectar that leaves me hungry for more.

When both her hands wind through my hair and her moans start getting violently uninhibited, I know she’s close to the edge.

The sadistic part of me wants to draw it out longer. To prevent her from coming until I give her permission to do so.

But the hedonist in me wants to be inside her now.

I want those sweet juices dripping off my cock.

I reach up with one hand and squeeze a nipple while I bare down on her clit with my tongue. She writhes with pleasure as the orgasm ripples through her body, clutching my head between her thighs to ride it out.

She’s still gasping for air when I stand up and start removing my pants. She slumps against the wall and I see her knees shake, but I grab her just in time.

“We’re not fucking done yet,” I tell her.

Her eyes go wide for a moment but I can’t mistake the expression this time.

I’ve seen real, unbridled desire enough times now to know when I’m staring it in the face.

This is real.

I pull off my shirt and Esme’s eyes zone in on my chest. I follow her gaze, realizing that she’s staring at the sweat that clings to my muscles. Or maybe she’s staring at my tattoos.

Either way, whatever she’s seeing is turning her on. Her irises dilate further and a new shiver travels across her breasts, hardening her nipples all over again.

---