CHAPTER 4: FILLED, FOLDED, f****d STUPID
MIRA'S POV
I am. God, I am.
My eyes keep dropping to that thick bulge, imagining what's underneath, imagining how it would feel stretching me open after years of nothing but my own fingers and mediocre vibrators.
"Tell me what you want, Mira." He hooks his thumbs into the waistband of his sweatpants, pulling them down just enough to show the deep V of his hips, the trail of dark hair leading down. "Use your words."
"I want-" My voice cracks. I swallow and try again. "I want you to f**k me."
"Want me to f**k you where?"
Jesus Christ.
"Here. On the table. Wherever. I don't care, I just need-"
"Need what?"
"I need your c**k inside me." The words tumble out desperate and shameless. "Please, Jerome. I've been thinking about it for years - sin
