Page 91 of Gilded Cage (Kovalyov Bratva 1)

I just stand there, still as a statue, and watch her rage at me.

My eyes land on her lips first. I fucking love the way she says my name—I don’t even care that it’s in anger. Honestly, that makes it better.

Her cheeks burn red with fury. Her eyes sizzle with passion.

And my cock is so damn hard that it’s fucking painful.

“Did you hear me?” she asks. “I’m not your goddamn fuck doll!”

I stare at her full breasts rising and falling with exertion, baby doll frills moving right along with her.

In the end, that’s what does it.

That’s the straw that breaks the camel’s back.

I can’t abide the sight of that horrendous piece of filth anymore. I just wanther—bare, beautiful, bitchy as hell.

I snatch her hand from her side and yank her towards me. She stumbles in shock and lets out a delicious little gasp as she falls into my torso.

The desire to be inside her is so intense that I have to fight hard not to fuck her right through her hideous lingerie.

But first, I need to teach her a lesson.

“Let go of me!” she snarls as she struggles against my hold. “I told you, I’m not your doll.”

But my grip on her is viselike. She can barely move.

Fear snakes across her tone, but I catch something else, too. Something familiar.

She wants me.

Just like I want her.

“You are what I say you are,” I growl at her, my voice low and heavy with lust.

I push her back to arm’s length, grab two fistfuls of the green material, and rip it right off her.

She gasps again as the teddy comes off in one clean tear, leaving her standing before me in nothing but a pair of sheer panties.

Her hands scramble to cover her body. It’s futile, though, and she knows that.

“Don’t,” Esme says. Her voice trembles.

But we’re long past that.

I peel her hand off her, exposing her breasts.

They’re even more glorious than I’ve imagined. Perfect full globes, high and perky with taut little nipples that are as hard as I am.

She moves backwards. “Don’t do this, Artem,” she tells me, as her back hits the wall.

She shouldn’t have said my name. That only stokes the fire more.

“Me?” I shake my head. “You’re the one that did this.”

I corner her at the wall and put both my hands on either side of her head, trapping her.

I’m desperate to touch her heaving breasts. My tongue yearns to lick across one of those pink nipples.

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