MY BULLY PRESIDENT
"The light hits you differently when you aren't trying to hide."
"I feel different," Thalynn admitted, closing the book. "I feel like I can finally hear my own thoughts. They aren't just calculations anymore. They’re... feelings."
As the sun rose over the Atlantic, painting the room in hues of violet and rose, they lay in the massive bed, tangled in silk sheets. There was no alarm, no morning briefing, no threat of discovery.
Lucian kissed the mark on Thalynn’s neck—the permanent claim and the most precious thing he owned.