“But you gotta tell me how good he is in bed. How big his dick is. If he moans or growls or bites—that sort of thing. You gotta tell me.” Oh, God. Squeezing my eyes shut, I slipped around the table, trying not to die of the heat burning me from the inside. “You’re worse than Layla. You’re so much worse than Layla,” I mumbled, but for some unknown reason, I was also smiling. Because I already had all the answers—he’s an eleven out of ten in bed, and his dick is huge, the tip slightly curved up, and he moans and growls and bites—while he fucks me senseless for hours at a time. Yes, I was very
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