Married To My Professor

III: Sprung/ Ultimatum

Megan Pete

I stirred in my sleep and turned my head to the left. Soon, I felt Bey's hand rubbing my back soothingly, probably trying to get me to go back to sleep and I groaned. Blinking my eyes open slowly, I seen her already staring at me with a smile.

"You should be sleeping." She commented.

"So should you." I mumbled.

"I have to write your paper and I'm actually not tired yet." She admitted.

I noticed her typing on a MacBook that wasn't mine and I sat up, rubbing my eyes. "Is that yours?" I questioned.

"Yes, you didn't notice earlier, but my rental car is parked outside." She laughed. "I brought my clothes and schoolwork with me." I eyed her up and down and noticed that she was in different attire, Ivy Park. "I hope you don't mind." She spoke up. "I made myself familiar with your mansion and used your bathroom to shower and everything."

"No, that's fine. You'll be sharing this mansion with me soon, so you should get familiar with it." I said.

"Oh really?" She looked over at me with a smirk.

"Yes, really. In case you forgot, we're engaged now. You accepted my proposal."

Bey started laughing and I got off of my bed, but not without her slapping my ass. "Should that really count, baby? Pussy is blinding. We were both blinded."

"I may have been a little blinded, but I meant everything I said. You're mines."

"Megan...you better quit talking like this while you're naked, because we can go again and elope to Vegas if what you're saying is true."

I smiled and bent down to grab my panties off of the floor. "I'm ready when you are." I teased her as I pulled up my thong.

"Jovon..." She gave me her signature glare and eyebrow combo, that let me know she was serious and she had enough of my playing and teasing.

I'm down for us going to Vegas though, but they won't allow us to get married, if she's already married to someone, so as soon as her little divorce is over, if she doesn't want to wait and elope, I'm all for it.

"Fine. You have to get divorced first anyway." I laughed.

"Yes, and you have to actually get me a ring." She laughed.

"Whateva." I rolled my eyes playfully. "I'll be back, I have to go clean myself up."

"Okay." She nodded.

I could give Beyoncé a ring pop as a ring and she would accept it, so she needs to stop playing. She doesn't care about no ring.

*

I slipped my graphic tee over my head and took a quick picture, before going over to my bed.

"How did you even know what topic to write about?" I asked Beyoncé while climbing up on my bed. Crawling over to Beyoncé on all fours, I peeked at her MacBook and seen her working on page ten of this paper she's writing for me. She works fast. I can't believe she's been up this whole time doing this.