Page 153 of Call Me Mrs. Taylor

The silence is thick. My stomach twists as I realize I might have gone too far. I might have finally scared him off.

I tighten my grip on his neck.

Letting him go isn’t an option at this point. We’ll both be dead before that happens.

I search his eyes, prepared to laugh and say I was just joking.

Then, he finally says, “I can make that happen.”

Excitement surges through me so fast it makes my head spin.

“Ace—“

“Don’t ask questions, Raya. Just know I don’t say shit I don’t mean.”

Touched, I put a hand on his cheek, wondering if I can trust this. I took it as a joke before when he mentioned rolling Daddy off a cliff, but I'm willing to let him show me he meant it.

Always actions over words.

Men get real loquacious when it's time to promise you shit. World-class orators of illusion. You have to hold their feet to the fucking fire. Make them stand on every hollow word. Make themmakethat shit real.

“I wanna sit on your face.”

His warm, minty breath hits my face when he bursts out laughing. “I love you, too. Aye, so you like it now?”

“I like when you do it.”

His eyes narrow as his dick hardens between us. “Then climb on.”

I shift onto my knees, the thrill of his words still buzzing through me like electricity.I can make that happen.

He shifts down a bit as I make my way on top of him. He doesn’t hesitate. His hands grip my thighs, strong and possessive, pulling me toward his face. He stares up at me with hooded eyes, but I see something else, too. Something that saysI’d do anything to make you happy.

I settle onto him, pressing my knees into the mattress on either side of him, bracing my palms against the headboard. I’m ready.

The first stroke of his tongue sends a shudder through my whole body.

I exhale sharply. My head falls forward as pleasure rolls up and down my spine. His hands squeeze my thighs, fingers digging in, keeping me anchored. Not that he needs to hold me here; I’m not goinganywhere.

Every flick and stroke of his tongue draws me closer to the edge. I open my eyes and lower my gaze, marveling at my good fortune of having a man who’s so damn handsome with a face so sittable. He grins up at me, and it feels like he read my mind. I don’t mind cocky Ace, though. Cocky Ace is sexy.

He taps his fingers on my thigh. “Roll your hips,” he says. “Ride my face like you ride my dick.”

Say less.

I grind against his mouth, gasping when he sucks my clit between his lips, teasing me with slow, deliberate pulls.

My man knows exactly what he’s doing.

My fingers tighten around the headboard, nails digging into the wood.

“Ace,” I moan, my voice desperate.

He groans against me, sending vibrations shooting through my core. My thighs tremble as his hand slides up my stomach and his fingers find my nipple, teasing and plucking, sending another wave of heat through me.

My head falls back as I rock against his mouth, harder and faster now. I’m coming apart, losing control, enjoying every second of it, my mind and soul free and unburdened.

The freedom feels almost as good as Ace’s mouth.

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