Page 20 of Vega

I tried to breathe but couldn’t. I tried to stand but my legs failed me.

Then everything went black.

VEGARRO “VEGA” MORETTI

Lucky for me, Elana’s night shift ended right around the time mine did. The only difference was that she worked in a strip club, and I worked in the streets.

I had Elana pinned beneath me on the bed, with her legs spread wide as I drove my dick deep into her pussy with hard, relentless thrusts. She was one of the women on my roster. I called whenever I wanted a quick release, and she always opened her door because of my street status and money.

The condom was tight around my thick shaft as I fucked her without mercy.

"Prendi tutto il mio dick," I growled in Italian, Take all of me. My tattooed arms flexed as I gripped her hips and slammed into her harder.

Elana moaned loud, and her body jolted with each aggressive pound.

I leaned down, biting at her neck while my hips snapped forward, burying every inch of my big dick inside her over and over. "Sei così bagnata per me, puttana schifosa." You’re so wet for me, nasty whore.

She clawed at my inked chest but didn't push back. She just took it like she always did when I decided it was her turn.

I flipped her onto her stomach, yanked her ass up, and rammed back in from behind, one hand fisting her hair to keep her in place. My free hand slapped her ass as I pounded away, the wet sounds filling the room with every brutal stroke. "Cazzo, ti scopo come vuoi," I muttered, Fuck, I’ll fuck you however you want, in more Italian to push her over the edge.

Her pussy clenched around my dick, but I didn't slow down, just kept thrusting deep and fast until my balls tightened.

I came hard, filling the condom with a low groan as my body tensed over hers.

Then I pulled out, rolled onto my back, and grabbed my phone off the nightstand to check my messages.

Elana lay beside me, curled against my side with one hand resting on my stomach. Her skin was still warm, and the sheet barely covered her ass. She looked comfortable and satisfied.

Looking at my phone, I opened the message from Roman. He had sent confirmation for our meeting that was in thirty minutes, along with a location.

I moved Elana’s arm and sat up.

“You leaving?” she asked.

“Yeah.”

“Oh.”

That was all she gave me. She didn’t give me attitude or demands for an explanation. She didn’t ask where I was going, who had texted me, or why I had just finished fucking her only to leave before the sweat dried.

That was what I liked about Elana. She understood what this was. I gave her good dick, treated her with respect, and put a few dollars in her hand whenever she needed something. In return, she didn’t create problems. She was just happy to be fucking me.

But I knew that was for now. I had been fucking long enough to know that women stayed cool only as long as they chose to. Eventually, some of them started wanting more nights, access, and answers. Casual stopped being cool for most once feelings got involved.

Arielle had done the same thing with Prodigy. The difference was, when women got tired of my arrangement, I let them leave. I wished them well and found somebody else to take their place.

I wasn’t against marriage. I could see myself with a wife and kids one day. Just not now. I was twenty-six and finally had the kind of money that allowed me to move how I wanted. My brother, cousins, and I had built something profitable. I could travel without checking prices, buy what I liked, and change plans without needing anyone’s permission.

Why would I rush to trade that freedom for school schedules, shared calendars, and a woman expecting me home every night?

That life might fit me later. But right now, I liked waking up and knowing every choice belonged to me.

I stepped into my boxer briefs and pulled on my jeans and shirt.

Elana watched me from the bed. “You coming back?”

“Not tonight.”