Page 224 of Gilded Cage (Kovalyov Bratva 1)

It’s the hottest thing I’ve ever seen in my life.

When I’m fully spent, Esme wipes away the tiny dot next to her mouth and settles into the sheets beside me.

“Jesus, woman,” I tell her. “You’re gonna kill me.”

“I don’t know what you mean,” she says innocently.

“This is the second morning you’ve woken me up with your mouth around my cock.”

“Are you complaining?” she asks, in a teasing tone. “Because that sounds an awful lot like a complaint, sir.”

“I’m not and it isn’t,” I reply in a hurry. “I’m just saying, I’m liable to have a fucking heart attack the way you ride me.”

She chuckles. “You’re a big boy,” she says, patting my chest. “You can take it.”

Esme tries to get out of bed, but I grab her and pull her to me. She squirms in my arms, yelping and giggling.

“Where do you think you’re going?” I growl in her ear.

“Brush my teeth…” she says, continuing to wiggle. “I’ve got some man’s taste all up in there.”

“Fuck that,” I growl. “I want to lie here with you for a bit. You like that taste anyways.”

“If we stay in bed, we’ll end up having sex again,” Esme sighs, as though it’s a problem she doesn’t know how to solve.

“Says who?”

She smiles. “Says me.”

I flex my arm. “It’s this mountain man physique of mine that’s revving your engine, isn’t it?”

Esme shoves me away. “Gross. Never. It’s the baby. The damn baby’s making me so horny.”

I grin with satisfaction. I have noticed her increasing demands in the last few days, and I am all for it. My body craves hers, and I’ve spent the last few days exploring every last inch of it.

We haven’t spoken about Marisha and the baby since the night I revealed that sordid part of my past.

But it hangs there between us in the long silences, waiting for the right moment to sneak out and say its peace.

“Oh, sure,” I nod. “Blame the innocent little baby.”

“I’m not—”

“You need to take responsibility for the fact that you just can’t keep your hands off me,” I say, cutting her off.

She narrows her eyes, but I can see the smile she’s trying to hide.

“Well,” she says, running her fingers over the tattoos on my chest, “now that you mention it, I’ve always had a thing for dark-haired Russian men.”

“Is that right?”

“Mm-hmm,” she nods. “With killer abs and a giant dick.”

“Happy to be of service.”

“You did knock me up,” she points out. “It’s the least you can do.”

“I can do so much more than that if you let me, darling.”

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