Page 153 of Vega

“No.”

I stepped closer, anyway, took her face in both hands, and kissed her.

She made a frustrated sound against my mouth, but her hands grabbed my shirt anyway. I kissed her until the fight in her body softened into need, until her fingers held on instead of pushed away.

The second that kiss broke, my fingers dug into her hips as I backed her away from the door. The tension had shifted from anger to pure, unadulterated hunger. I could feel her shaking slightly, that mix of nerves and need that always made me want to break her open.

I led her into the dining area, towards the heavy mahogany table in the center of the room. I pushed her forward, guiding her until her palms hit the cool, polished wood. I reached down, grabbed the waistband of her pants, and yanked them down past her thighs in one rough motion, along with her panties.

She let out a sharp gasp, and her back arched as the cool air hit her bare skin. I stepped up behind her, pressing my frame against her backside. I loved the way she looked sprawled out like that. Those thick thighs were trembling. Her glasses slid slightly down her nose. I leaned over her, my ink-covered arms bracing myself on the table, and buried my face right between her ass cheeks.

The smell of her was intoxicating. She was sweet, musky, and soaking wet. I didn't tease. I dove right in, my tongue licking a long, slow stripe from her asshole straight up to her clit. Sonnet let out a loud, guttural moan, and her fingers clawed at the table. I focused on that little nub, swirling my tongue around, sucking her deep into my mouth while my hands spread her cheeks wide. I wanted to taste every bit of her. I flicked my tongue fast, mimicking the rhythm I knew she loved, listening to her whimpers turn into frantic pleas. She was dripping, her juices coating my lips and chin, and I drank her in like I was starving.

I felt her start to peak. Her hips jerked back against my face, but I pulled away just before she hit the edge. I wanted her desperate for this dick.

I stood up, unzipped my pants, and freed my thick and throbbing dick. I grabbed her hips again, pulling her ass flush against me. I guided my head to her opening, the heat radiating off of it made my dick jump.

I pushed in slow at first, feeling the resistance of her tight walls. She was still so new to this. Her center gripped me like she was trying to hold on to me for dear life. I groaned from the sensation of her virgin pussy squeezing my length almost too much to handle.

"You're so fucking tight, Glasses," I growled in her ear.

Once I was buried deep, I didn't wait. I started to hammer into her, hard and fast. Each thrust made a wet, slapping sound that filled the room. I wasn't being gentle; I wanted her to feel every bit of this dick. I watched the way her body jolted forward with every hit, her breasts swinging, her hair messy and wild across the table.

I could feel her stretching, her muscles finally starting to give way and mold around me. "Yeah, just like that. Your pussy's finally getting used to this dick. You're taking all of it, ain't you?"

She screamed, a loud, unfiltered sound of pleasure, as I hit her G-spot with every deep drive. I reached around, grabbing her breasts and squeezing them, pulling her back into me so I could hit the bottom of this motherfucka. I increased the pace. My thrusts became violent and rhythmic, driving her face-first into the mahogany. I could feel her climaxing. Her walls pulsated and clamped down on me in waves. That was the trigger I needed. I let out a loud groan, thrusting one last time as deep as I could go, filling her up, leaving us both shaking and breathless.

I walked down the hallway of the hospital with a bag of food in one hand and a hoodie tucked under my arm. Lowe had been complaining about the hospital being too cold and he was constantly requesting meals, now that he could eat.

I knocked once before opening the door.

He was sitting up in bed with the TV muted, one leg covered by the blanket and the other propped in a brace. His beard had grown in thicker, and his face looked leaner.

He looked at the bag in my hand. “If that ain’t enough for me, get the fuck out.”

I closed the door behind me. “You this rude to everybody saving you from mashed potatoes with no seasoning?”

“That hospital food got me wishing Promise finished the job.”

“Don’t say that shit.” I set the food on the tray table and pulled the chair closer to the bed. “I’m surprised Lux not here getting on the nurses nerves.”

Lowe scoffed. “I’m glad he’s not. That nigga been watching me sleep. That shit weird.”

I chuckled. “He’s scared.” Then I asked him, “How you feeling?”

He stared at the TV. “I feel like I got shot, almost died, woke up broken, and everybody keep telling me to be grateful because I’m breathing.”

I sat back, watching him pick at the edge of the blanket. Lowe was usually the quieter one between him and Lux, but quiet didn’t mean he was soft. He had always been sharp with it, observant, and only spoke when it mattered.

Now the pain had him exposed in ways he hated.

“They saying I gotta learn how to walk again. You know how crazy that sound?”

“Yeah.”

“I been walking my whole life without thinking about that shit. Now they got therapists coming in here talking about range of motion, nerve response, foot drop, braces, walkers, all this bullshit.” He swallowed hard and looked toward the window. “They keep telling me it’s progress that I can feel certain touches on my leg. Progress? Nigga, I used to run up stairs two at a time. And people already acting different. That’s the part nobody tell you about.”

I frowned. “Who?”