Sonnet Ellison
I woke up in Vega’s arms and almost couldn’t believe what had happened.
I had really done it. I had really given him the one thing I had protected for twenty-three years, and the wildest part was that I didn’t feel empty afterward.
I didn’t feel stupid. I didn’t feel used.
Vega had made it beautiful in a way I hadn’t expected from a man like him.
He had been patient and careful, and after it was over, he hadn’t rolled away from me or acted like the intimacy ended once he got his release.
He was still there, holding me. His arm wrapped around me while my back rested against him, and his face was tucked near my hair.
That felt more intimate than the sex almost. The quiet way he kept me close after he had already gotten what most men would’ve considered the prize made me feel just as orgasmic.
I felt him waking up behind me a second later.
His lips touched the side of my face first, then my mouth.
I pulled away, giggling. “My breath stinks.”
“I don’t care.”
“You should.”
“I don’t.”
Then he kissed me again, softly. He was rough in every way, but his mouth on mine was so gentle.
He moved over me and kissed along my neck before lowering his mouth to my exposed breasts. My fingers slid into his hair, and I tried not to act embarrassed by how quickly my body started responding again.
I felt him hard against my stomach.
“You sore?” he asked, looking down at me.
“A little.”
His gaze searched mine. “Too sore?”
I shook my head. “No.”
“You sure?”
“I’m okay,” I whispered. Then, I added, “I want more.”
His eyes softened. He looked hungry for me, but not careless with me.
He kissed me again, slower this time, and took his time making sure I was ready for him.
His fingers trailed down my body, parting my folds gently as he stroked my wetness, circling my clit until I was dripping with arousal.
He added a finger inside me, pumping slowly to prepare me, making sure I was slick and open for him.
A soft moan escaped my lips as the sensation built. My body responded so eagerly. "Vega..." I whispered his name, feeling myself getting more wet with every deliberate circle of his fingers. My arousal coated his touch, making everything slicker and hotter.
"I want you dripping for me before I even think about sliding inside,” Vega murmured against my lips as his fingers opened me more. He stroked slowly over my wetness, circling until the slickness spread and my hips lifted toward his touch.
I gasped as two fingers pumped gently to open me further. "Vega... your touch is making me so ready.”
He withdrew his fingers after several careful minutes, positioning himself so his dick nudged against my entrance. He carefully pushed forward, inch by inch, his dick stretching me as he sank deeper. The initial burn mixed with the building heat, as I clung to his shoulders.
The pressure made me hiss, and he stopped.
“It’s okay. Keep going.”
“It hurts,” he told me, kissing me
“But it feels good too,” I breathed out between kisses, my voice trembling with the conflicting sensations as I moaned his name again. "Don't stop."
"I got you," he answered. "Breathe through it. You're taking me so well." He rocked in long, measured thrusts, his dick dragging along my inner walls while his thumb kept circling my clit. His mouth claimed mine whenever the ache sharpened, until the pleasure began to overtake everything else.
I let him guide me through the discomfort until pleasure started replacing the ache.
It still felt new and intense, but I wasn’t afraid, especially with him watching me so carefully, checking my reactions, stopping whenever my body needed a second and kissing me through every moment that felt like too much pressure.
Vega didn’t make me feel foolish for being inexperienced. He made me feel wanted, protected, and chosen.
His mouth found mine again, and I whispered his name against his lips.
"Tell me if anything hurts, Sonnet," he murmured. "We go at your pace. I want you to feel good."
He moved with more control than patience now, but still with enough care that my body trusted him.
My pussy stretched around his thick length, gripping him tightly as he eased deeper, one careful inch at a time.
The burn faded under his soft kisses on my neck and the gentle circles his thumb traced over my clit.
"You feel so perfect around me," he whispered. "So warm and wet.”
My fingers dug into his shoulders as his tip brushed my cervix. He held still so I could adjust.
“Fuck,” I winced.
“I know. I’m sorry. You feel so good, though, baby."
"Vega…”
“Take me, baby.”
“Okay,” I whined, breathing heavy. “Don’t stop.”
He started sliding in deep, long strokes.
His dick dragged against my walls every time he pulled back and pushed back in.
I was soaking wet. My juices coated him and made every slide feel slick as hell.
That pleasure started building up fast, wiping out whatever ache was left.
He crashed his lips onto mine again, rocking into me, hitting it deep but keeping it careful.
His hands gripped my sides and cupped my face while he worked me.
"That's it, let go for me," he encouraged between kisses. "I've got you. Come on my dick, Glasses."
The pleasure finally pulled me under. I held onto him and let it happen. My pussy clenched hard around him in rhythmic spasms, pulsing and fluttering as the orgasm crashed through me.
Wet heat flooded between us while my body shook, thighs trembling against his hips.
"Vega!" I cried out as wave after wave rolled over me. He kept moving slowly through it all, drawing out every pulse until I melted beneath him, spent and clinging to him.