Page 42 of Call Me Mrs. Taylor

I’m not ready for this question.

I blink. My body is still buzzing. Still floating. But my mind? My mind just crash landed back to earth.

This is the first time we’ve had sex without a condom. No reason, no discussion, no planning, just a silent agreement between two people who couldn’t be bothered. And yeah, if his dumb ass was that concerned, he should have asked me that ten minutes ago.

I feel my irritation creeping back in.

OfcourseI’m on birth control, stupid, and do you know why? Because niggas love talking thatI’ma put a baby in youshitwhen the sex gets good.Yeah, okay, I’ll let you cum in me for the express purpose of creating one, then suffer through nausea and throwing up and getting fat until a whole human decides to shoot out of my vagina, but not before it stretches the rest of my body beyond recognition and leaves marks that are a forever reminder that a parasite once lived in there, which, by the way, I have to raise for the next eighteen years of my life.

Boy, fuck you.

I havenodesire to be somebody’s mama.

But if Ace ever wants a baby…well, I don’t see how I could turn him down, especially not after what I learned yesterday. Which reminds me…that’swhy I was irritated.

But we’ll cross that sustainable bridge when we come to it.

I nod. “I’m on the pill.” It’s the truth, for once.

He exhales, relief softening his features. But then he has to ruin it, of course, sporting that goofy ass grin again, eyes wild as hell when he says, “So I can cum in you?”

I bite my lip. “You can do whatever you want with me.”

And I mean that. As annoying as he is today, this man still has me down extremely bad.

“Don’t tell me that,” he teases. “Ain’t no tellin’ what I’ma have you on.”

“I’m on whatever you’re on.”

I start to move, rolling my hips in slow, deliberate circles, watching his face closely. I like studying him, learning the things that make him feel good. Because if I know that? I own him.

He likes it slow.

His groans make me wetter. It feels even better now. I grab my breasts and squeeze, letting my eyes close, letting myself moan for him.

“Lemme do that,” he says, pushing my hands away. Before I can protest, he sits up and sucks my nipple into his mouth.

And my entire body betrays me.

My walls clench around him, so tight it makes me shudder. And it scares me. It always does.

I prefer to stay in control.

I don’t like when my body does things without my permission. Not all the time. Sometimes, very rarely, I can let go, but apparently, today isn’t one of those times.

He switches to my right nipple, and I switch my speed, grinding faster. It feels good. Ace has a big dick, let’s not get it twisted. On his worst day, he’s the best I’ve ever had. I’ll deploy that information at the optimal time. Which isn’t today. Because, again, he’s on my fucking nerves.

I’m over the nipple play. I put my hands out and push him onto his back, much harder than I mean to, but he doesn’t seem to mind. He bites his lip, eyes dark as he grips my ass so tight I cry out.

“Yeah,” he grunts. He likes my pain.

That’s fine.

I like his, too.

I haven’t hurt him, yet, but I will.

His eyes roll back, and I feel it. The tension. The slow build-up. The pulse of his dick in the deepest part of me, swelling, warning me he’s about to explode.

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