MIA’S POV.

Nine inches was a number I’d heard, a fantasy, but seeing it, knowing it was for me. It made my pussy clench around nothing, a fresh wave of slickness betraying my fear.

My body tensed in anticipation, my pulse hammering in my ears. I wanted him. No, I needed him.

My lungs burned. My wrists ached against the rough silk of the ties. The vibration had subsided to a memory but the need it left behind was a living, thrashing thing inside me.

I was spread open, utterly exposed ...