Page 118 of Call Me Mrs. Taylor

I hear every stroke.

“That little pussy love this dick, don’t it?”

I say nothing, and he chuckles.

“You love me, Raya?”

My eyes fly open. It’s the first time he’s said my name tonight. The first time I’m a real person to him. First time he’s said the wordloveto me, even if it’s just to ask me a question.

“Open your fucking mouth.”

“Yes,” I rush out.

“Yeah.” He relaxes his pace, slow stroking me in a way that feels romantic. “Say it,” he moans. “Tell me you love me, baby.”

My heart swells.

So does my pussy.

He feels it, I can tell by the way his stroke stutters.

“I love you,” I whisper.

“Louder,” he demands.

“I love you.”

“Yeah. Now say my fucking name.”

“Ace. I love you, Ace.”

He stills his body, leaning over to get close to my ear, his lips grazing the shell when he says, “I don’t loveyou.”

Then he starts again, stroking me so hard, his balls slap against my skin.

“Only thing I love is this pussy,” he grits out. “This shit so good. Goddamn.”

I moan, feeling safe to do so, but I should have known better. I didn’t have permission.

His hand is on my nape again, pressing my face into the pillow.

“I ain’t gon’ say it again,” he says. “Shut the fuck up and take this dick.”

Pleasure surges through my nerve endings. I’m so full—of him, of whatever he put inside me, of his love. My body climbs toward its peak while I swallow my screams.

“Yeah, I feel that.” The sound of our skin slapping together echoes through the room. Wet. Obscene. Sexy as fuck.

“You bout to cum on this dick.”

His fingers touch my head, gather my hair, and jerk my head back so hard, my scalp burns. His grip forces me into a deeper arch, holding me taut and rigid. His for the taking. His to use. No escape.

Nobody is coming to save me.

A tear rolls down my cheek. I’ve never felt so good in my life. The mattress squeaks in agreement beneath us. The headboard knocks a steady rhythm of encouragement against the wall.

I’m unraveling fast.

“Yeah, take this dick. Take this fat fucking dick.” His voice is rough and gravelly, each word hitting me hard and deep. “You my little slut tonight.”

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