My cheeks flush with embarrassment. I have no control over the sounds I’m making when I’m with Byron. I have no control around him, period. But it’s not just when we’re having sex. I simply can’t resist him. I don’t want to take my power back from my mother and Frank and give it to someone else—especially not a man as powerful as Byron. But I can’t seem to say no. I don’t want to.

The more time I spend with Byron, the more I wonder if he even wants my power. A voice inside says the answer is no. Maybe it’s because this—whatever this is between us—has a natural end date. I’ll move into staff housing next week, and things will naturally fade out. They’re bound to.

Byron scoops me up and I hook my hands around his neck. “You don’t want my power,” I whisper against his chest.

“I want your body,” he growls.

He lays me on the bed and steps back, like he’s considering his options. “There are so many things I want to do to you.”

“I want all of them,” I say.

He strips off my jeans and top. When I’m completely naked, he pulls his clothes off, not taking his eyes from mine as he does. When he takes off his boxers, my gaze drops to what’s between his thighs.

I’ve always thought penises were weird. They serve a purpose and all, but really, I always found them a little off-putting. But Byron’s penis is gorgeous. Flat against his stomach, it’s rigid steel covered in smooth velvet. I lick my lips at the thought of my hands around it, my tongue over it, pressing it between my thighs.

“I love your dick.” It slips out before I can think what I’m saying. I cover my face with my arm.

“It loves you back,” he says on a chuckle. “Come here,” he says, nudging my thighs open and standing between them.

I push myself up so I’m sitting in front of him, his dick level with my face. I glance up at him, and he’s grinning. He lifts my chin and shakes his head like he’s seen something he can’t quite believe.

I start at the base of his cock. My tongue flat, I lick in one long, slow movement up, teasing out a groan from that dirty mouth.

It’s beautiful. I glance up at him, and his eyes are dark—fierce, like he’s on the brink of war. I take him in my fist, starting at the top and pushing down in another slow movement.

“Are you trying to kill me?” he growls.