Sonnet Ellison
Vega rode me slowly, taking his time with every kiss and touch until nothing existed outside our bed.
My fingers slid into his hair while he kissed along my neck.
He held me close enough that I felt every breath he took, every pause he made to look at me, and every word he whispered against my skin.
“I love you,” he said.
“I love you too.”
His eyes stayed on mine while he entered me, and the stretch pulled a soft cry from my lips. He kissed it away, moving with patience that made every stroke feel intentional.
This wasn’t only sex. It wasn’t the fear, adrenaline, or confusion that had surrounded us in the beginning.
I wasn’t reaching for him because he was the only person standing between me and death.
I was free now. Roman was gone. I could’ve returned to my condo and rebuilt the quiet life I’d had before any of this happened.
Instead, I chose this bed.
I chose Vega.
“I love you,” I whispered again.
His hand settled against my face. “I love you more than anything.”
The words reached hurt in me that had spent years expecting to be abandoned.
I’d spent most of my life without anyone claiming me. My mother had surrendered me, foster families had passed me through their homes, and every place I stayed had come with the understanding that it could end without warning.
Now I had people arguing over baby names, planning a shower I hadn’t approved, calling to check whether I had eaten, and making room for me at tables that had held their family for years.
I had a man who didn’t merely promise to stay. He made decisions every day that proved he had already built his life around us.
Vega lowered his forehead to mine while he pressed his length deeper inside me.
“You good?” he asked.
I smiled through the emotion gathering in my eyes. “I’ve never been better.”
His mouth covered mine, and I wrapped my legs around him, holding him closer while pleasure spread through me.
Vega wasn’t soft with the world. He didn’t apologize for who he was, and he never pretended the life he lived was cleaner or safer than it was.
He made decisions without asking permission, walked into every room knowing exactly who he was, and could become ruthless when anyone threatened the people he loved.
But with me, he listened. He never made me feel foolish for being afraid. He never punished me for telling him the truth. Even when we disagreed, he protected my dignity instead of trying to make me feel smaller so he could feel more powerful.
His presence gave me peace before I ever understood that I loved him.
I never had to audition for care with Vega. I didn’t have to earn basic consideration or wonder whether he would disappear when loving me became inconvenient. His actions arrived before every promise.
He had kidnapped me, turned my life upside down, and somehow became the safest place I had ever known. That truth would’ve sounded impossible to anybody outside of us.
My body began to tremble beneath him. “Vega.”
The pleasure broke through me while I held on to him, my cries disappearing against his mouth.
Looking into his eyes, I watched Vega’s expression suddenly change from tenderness and harden into something darker and more predatory. As he looked down at me, his eyes flashed with a possessive, dominant hunger that made my breath hitch.
“I was waiting on you to get used to this dick before I got you back for all that shit you did to me when we first met.”
I blinked, as a flicker of confusion crossed my face. “What do you—?”
Before I could finish, Vega pulled out of me.
He didn't give me time to process. In one fluid, powerful motion, he rested back on his knees and grabbed my ankles.
He yanked my legs up and high and put my ankles onto his broad shoulders.
The position left my pussy wide open and glistening, vulnerable to his every whim.
Without another word, Vega lunged forward. He didn't ease in this time; he drove his thick, leaking dick deep inside me with one violent, punishing thrust that touched my cervix.
I let out a sharp, strangled scream, and my back arched off the bed as the sheer force of the impact rattled my entire frame. It wasn't the slow, loving pace from before. This was animalistic and demanding.
Vega didn't slow down. He began to fuck the absolute shit out of me.
His hips slammed against me with rhythmic, brutal force.
Every thrust was a heavy blow. The sound of our flesh colliding echoed through the room like a wet slap.
He gripped my thighs tightly, and his fingers dug into my skin as he hammered into me, hitting my G-spot with relentless precision.
As he drove himself into me, his voice came out as a guttural snarl, punctuating each deep, punishing stroke. “Remember when you tried to break my ribs?” he groaned, slamming his pelvis hard against mine, forcing a loud moan from my lips.
He withdrew almost entirely before plunging back in. The friction sent sparks of intense pleasure and mild pain through me.
“Remember when you bit me? Remember how you kept fighting me?”
I was shaking, and my head tossed from side to side on the pillow. The confusion was gone, replaced by an overwhelming surge of arousal. Being claimed this way made my walls pulse and tighten around him.
“God!” I cried out. “Vega, please!”
“You thought you were so tough,” he chuckled darkly and the sound vibrated in his chest as he accelerated the pace. “Since you so tough, take this dick.”
He wasn't just fucking me; he was reclaiming every inch of me, reminding me exactly who I belonged to. He increased the intensity, his thrusts becoming shorter, faster, and more violent, driving me deeper into the mattress.
He watched my face, loving the way my eyes rolled back and my mouth hung open in a silent scream of pleasure.
He was punishing me for the past, but the reward was the sheer, unadulterated ecstasy he was carving into my body.
He continued to slam into me, his dick stretching me wide, filling me completely as he pushed me toward a shattering, inevitable climax.
After he came, neither of us moved away.
I traced his face while he looked down at me.
“What?” he asked.
I smiled weakly. “I’m happy.”
He bent down and kissed the tip of my nose. “Get used to it.”
I laughed softly, then pulled him down beside me.
For years, I’d believed family was something other people inherited.
Love was something I watched from a distance, careful not to want too much because I was so used to being let down.
But Vega had changed that. He hadn’t saved me by giving me a life.
He reminded me that I still had one worth choosing.
Then he stood beside me while I decided what I wanted it to become.
I wanted him.
I wanted our child.
I wanted the loud family that had already claimed my pregnancy as theirs and treated my future as something worth celebrating.
My life no longer felt borrowed or temporary.
It was mine.
And for the first time, it was filled with people who wanted to share it with me.
Vega pulled me closer and rested his hand over my stomach.
“I love both of y’all,” he murmured.
I covered his hand with mine. “We love you too.”
I had spent my whole life searching for somewhere I wouldn’t be sent away from.
In Vega’s arms, I finally stopped searching.