Page 199 of Gilded Cage (Kovalyov Bratva 1)

“For fuck’s sake, Esme…”

With one hand teasing my balls, she takes me deeper into her mouth until her saliva starts trickling down my cock. She starts sucking harder and I groan again with pleasure as my cock hits the back of her throat.

When she pulls her mouth off me with a wet popping sound, I’m panting hard, craving the bliss that’s waiting between her legs.

As though she’s read my mind, she hops up along my body and straddles me. My cock lines up with her glistening slit and she rocks back and forth a little, rubbing herself against me and driving me mad with want.

Then, all at once, she sits on my cock, slamming herself down on me with a force that draws me upright to meet her with a savage, sloppy kiss.

She rocks on top of me easily. Every pull and push is seamless and smooth. It’s a steady grind, an endless ride of blissful friction, of skin on skin, of breath mingling between our faces as we kiss and gasp and stare so deep into each other’s eyes that the boundaries between us dissolve.

My wife rides me until her hair is all but completely dry and flows down her back, dark and lustrous.

When her movements slow, I grab her by the waist and roll over with her, taking back control. She shrieks in surprise, but the first thrust takes her breath away.

She wraps her legs around my waist, her hands clinging to my shoulders as I fuck her slowly.

I’ve never been able to look a woman in the eye when I fuck her. It’s too personal. Too intimate.

But with Esme, it’s easy, natural, irresistible. Iwantto see her emotion. Iwantto witness her pleasure.

And when her pussy walls start constricting around me, I see exactly that.

I know she’s close to orgasm. So I increase the tempo of my thrusts and drive her home. She screams softly as she comes, her hands wrapped tight around my neck while her body shivers with the aftershocks of pleasure.

I give myself a minute longer and then I release inside her. It lasts forever and a day. Again and again, each wave nearly as strong as the last.

Until finally, there’s nothing left in me.

I roll off her and we lie next to one another in silence. Our breath cascades back down to normal.

Eventually, Esme turns to the side and props herself up on her elbow as she looks down at me.

“So,” she says, “we should really talk.”

“Okay.”

“About that handkerchief you keep with you…”

I stare at her for a moment and then burst out laughing. She joins in and the tenseness of the previous moment breaks.

“Is that the first thing you thought about when you woke up in a strange motel room?” I ask.

“Maybe,” she says with a mischievous smile. “It just took me by surprise.”

“So when you have to sneeze…?”

I roll my eyes. “I use tissues,” I reply. “I’m not a fucking Neanderthal. The handkerchief is just an old habit.”

Truthfully, it started years ago because of Marisha, but I still kept up the practice for her. Call it a tribute of sorts.

“Right. Old habit.”

“Besides, you never know when you might need to impress a beautiful woman,” I add.

Esme grins wider. “It worked.”

I press a kiss to her forehead. She moves closer and settles her head down against my chest.

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