31. Sonnet Ellison
SONNET ELLISON
Now that Roman was dead, Vega and I checked out of the suite and returned to his home.
Except it wasn’t only his house anymore.
The moment I told him I was pregnant, there had been no question for him that we would live together.
He’d already scheduled movers to pack everything in my condo the following week and bring it to what he kept calling our home.
Dior met us there. Now that I could leave the house without worrying about being followed, I wanted to spend as much time with my best friend as possible. I had missed him and having him stretched across our couch with a drink in his hand made my life feel familiar again.
The three of us sat in the living room laughing while music played from the television.
Dior and Vega drank, but I had to settle for juice.
Nobody said we were celebrating Roman’s death, but that relief was all over Vega and me.
I was free, and he no longer had to protect me from a man determined to silence me.
Vega had a different reason to celebrate, though.
Dior leaned across me and stared at him. “You couldn’t let her put a few miles on that coochie before you knocked her up?”
Vega slowly lowered his glass. “Why you worried about the mileage on my woman?”
“Because she barely got that pussy off the lot!”
I covered my mouth, laughing.
Vega reached across me and grabbed Dior by the back of his shirt.
Dior screeched. “Get your big ass hands off me!”
“Keep her coochie out yo’ mouth.”
Vega pulled him halfway across the couch while Dior kicked his feet and tried to slap his arm away.
“Sonnet, get your nigga!” he screeched.
Vega hooked an arm around Dior and rubbed his knuckles across the top of his head.
“My hair!” Dior yelled. “You dusty street niggas don’t respect maintenance!”
“Apologize.”
“For what?”
“Talking about my baby mama.”
“I’m sorry your possessive ass can’t take a joke!”
Vega released him, and Dior sat up, fixing his clothes and glaring.
“I hate him,” he told me.
“No, you don’t.”
Vega handed him his drink. “You’ll be all right.”
I smiled while watching them.
Vega was rough, street, and fully capable of killing somebody, but he never treated Dior as less of a person. He accepted everything about Dior and was very comfortable around him. Vega was secure enough in himself to let Dior be Dior.
That meant more to me than he knew.
Vega checked the time, then stood. “All right. Wrap this up.”
Dior frowned. “Excuse me?”
“You know I’m taking my baby out on a date.”
I looked up at him, cheesing. “Which baby?”
He leaned down and kissed me. “Both of y’all.”
Dior grabbed his drink. “Disgusting.”
Vega looked at him. “You still here?”
Dior stood, muttering while I laughed.
Being free felt good.
Being home felt even better.
“The cops are gonna come arrest you and charge you with manslaughter for slaying these hoes!”
I giggled at Dior while staring at myself in the full-length mirror.
Dior had convinced me to wear something sexy for my date with Vega.
The powder-blue set included a long-sleeved, off-the-shoulder crop top and fitted pants with cutouts at both hips.
He’d also brought over a blunt blonde bob that stopped at my jaw, with dark roots and streaks of ash brown running through it.
The entire look was bolder and sexier than anything I would’ve chosen for myself.
“I’m leaving before Big Guy starts talking shit about me making y’all late,” Dior announced.
I giggle, raising a brow. “Big Guy?”
“That man is huge. It fits him.” He leaned toward me and air-kissed my cheek to avoid getting lip gloss on the makeup he’d spent forever perfecting.
“Have fun. Not too much fun. You already pregnant.”
“Bye, Dior,” I sang as he walked out of the room.
I turned back toward the mirror, in disbelief that the reflection was actually mine.
I didn’t dress this way. Whenever I saw outfits like this online, they were on women with the type of bodies I thought clothes like these required.
I’d never believed mine was one of them.
But I looked good. The outfit hugged every curve I usually tried to hide.
The blonde hair was bold, but it was cute.
I barely recognized myself, and I didn’t hate that.
The bedroom door opened as I turned away from mirror. Vega stepped inside and stopped dead in his tracks when he saw me. He’d stayed out of the room for the entire two hours Dior spent getting me ready. Now he stood near the door, staring at me without speaking.
His eyes traveled from my hair to my heels, then returned to my face.
“What?” I asked, suddenly nervous.
“I’ve seen a lot of beautiful things in my life,” he said, walking toward me. “But none of them ever made me forget what I was about to say.”
Heat rushed into my cheeks.
“Look at you.” He stopped in front of me and placed his hands on my waist. “You’re beautiful every day. But this right here?” His gaze moved over me again. “You’re about to have me canceling every plan I made.”
I smiled while he closed the remaining space between us. His fingers caught the edge of my pants and moved them enough to reveal the lingerie underneath. Desire filled his eyes immediately.
He looked at the lace, then at the blonde bob Dior had spent so much time perfecting. “You got your hair done just for me to fuck it up?”
Vega didn’t wait for an answer. The moment the words left his lips, his hand tightened on my waist, pulling me flush against him. I could feel the hard, pulsing ridge of his dick pressing through his pants.
When he leaned down, his breath was hot against my ear, sending a jolt of electricity straight to my core. "All I can think about is ripping this off and seeing how you look shaking underneath me,” he growled, his voice dropping an octave.
I gasped and my head tilted back as he began to trail biting kisses down my neck. I felt his hand slide from my waist. His fingers grazed the lace of my lingerie again, tugging the fabric just enough to let the cool air hit my skin before his warm palm replaced it.
"Vega," I whimpered as my hands clutched his shoulders. "We... we have reservations. We're going to be late."
He pulled back just enough to look me in the eyes wearing a dark, hungry smirk on his lips. "Fuck those reservations," he rasped.
With a sudden, firm shove, he pushed me backward.
I let out a small squeal of surprise as I hit the mattress.
The bed dipped under my weight. Before I could even catch my breath, he was over me.
His large frame cast a shadow that made me feel small and completely claimed.
He quickly stripped us out of our clothes like he was frantic.
His eyes never left mine, until we were naked and his dick was throbbing.
He gripped my ankles and shoved my legs back, pinning them against my chest so my pussy was wide open and glistening.
He dove down, burying his face into my heat.
His tongue lashed out, licking my clit with a broad, wet stroke that made my hips jerk off the bed.
He was relentless while swirling his tongue around my sensitive nub before sucking it deep into his mouth, creating a vacuum that had me screaming his name.
Then his tongue slid back to explore my ass.
He licked the seam of my cheeks. Then his tongue probed my asshole with rhythmic, insistent flicks that sent a different, deeper kind of pleasure radiating through my spine.
I was a shaking mess beneath him. My fingers clutched the sheets, and my bob was splayed across the pillows.
Just as I felt I was about to peak, he pulled away and guided his mushroomed head to my entrance.
He slammed into me in one brutal, deep thrust, filling me to the absolute limit.
"I can't get enough of you," he groaned. "I'm going to fuck you until you're completely ruined for anyone else."
I let out a strangled cry, feeling my walls stretch to accommodate his thickness.
He began to fuck the shit out of me. His pace was frantic and punishing.
Each thrust was a heavy, wet thud that caused his balls to slap hard against the sensitive strip between my ass and center as he hammered into my G-spot.
"You take this dick so perfectly, baby. Just keep taking it until you can't even remember your own name.”
In the middle of his assault, just as I was sobbing from the intensity, he suddenly pulled out. It left me feeling empty and desperate, but before I could complain, he flipped me over, pushing my face into the pillows and hoisting my ass high in the air.
“Ho fame. Mi manca già il tuo sapore. (I'm hungry. Miss your taste already).”
He dove back down, his tongue returning to my pussy with a vengeance.
He licked me with perfection, his tongue diving deep into my soaking wet folds, eating my clit and my ass simultaneously, alternating between the two until I was sobbing, until my body was vibrating with an orgasm that felt like it was tearing me apart.
As soon as I peaked, he didn't give me a second to recover. He gripped my hips and drove his dick back inside me from behind with a forceful, deep plunge, and his dick hit the deepest part of my womb with every strike.
"You're mine," he growled, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin of my neck. "Every fucking inch of you belongs to me, and I'm going to make sure you feel it in your soul."