I shook the memory away. I had so many gaps and blank spots in my memories that I feared if I went down that road, I’d get lost and never return.
If Byron was holding my magic like a siphon, then in theory, I should be able to take it back. The magic belonged to me, it should want to return to me. I needed a way to pull it out of him.
But how?
And did I even want to? My mind had never felt soquiet. I stared at Byron and for one split second, I thought about the consequences of leaving my magic burrowing away in his chest. Would I miss it? Would it do him any harm? He seemed fine and the temptation to just run away was there. But what kind of person did that make me?
A coward?
Dammit, I couldn’t do that to him. Even if it was Byron. How was I going to do this?
Ah, fuck.
I could only think of one way.
He was never going to leave me alone after this.
Fuck, fucking,fuck.
Why did it have to be him?
I’d best do it quickly. Like ripping off a band aid. That was going to make it less painful.
Right?
“This doesn’t mean anything,” I said as I closed the distance between us.
His frown deepened over those beautiful blue eyes. “What doesn’t—”
I grabbed his face and pulled his lips to mine.
Electricity instantly flowed between us, alive and vibrant and jeez, was a kiss supposed to feel this euphoric? Byron froze for a mere moment before taking control, because of course he would. He wasn’t a man to submit to anyone. His hand wrappedaround my jaw, his fingers sinking into the hollows of my cheeks and forcing my mouth open wide. Byron thrust his tongue deep into my mouth and fuck, he tasted like bad decisions and dark decadence. It was addictive.Hewas addictive.
And that terrified me.
As I sucked on his tongue, I felt my magic returning to my core through our connection. It hummed through my veins and settled in my soul like a warm embrace. I was so relieved that it had returned to me because for a moment there, I feared I’d never get it back.
So why was I still kissing Byron?
His other hand sank into the hair at the base of my skull, and he pulled on the strands hard, twisting them between his skilful fingers. I gasped deep into his mouth and my back arched as he bent me to his will.
I couldn’t do this. Byron was a killer. A psychopath.
A monster.
I thrust my hands hard against his chest and pushed him away.
His chest heaved and his lips were swollen. He looked dishevelled, so unlike his usual put together self and a zing of desire went straight to my cock as I realised that I made him look like that. I made him lose control.
The scary thing was, I wanted to do it all over again just to see how far I could push him.
Byron licked his lips and hummed, his eyes brightening as he tasted me again. “That was better than I imagined.”
I couldn’t do this. I dragged my hands through my hair, my mind running a thousand miles a minute. “I have to go.”
He snorted. “Of course you do.”
“I’m not running away.”