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Julian falls asleep afterwards,his arm over my waist, chest pressed to my back—intimate and stifling.

I wriggle free and go to the bathroom, ignoring the mirror and turning on the shower instead. As the water rumbles in the stall, I put my hand under it, waiting for the warmth to come.

My body is slack and satisfied. There is the perfect ache between my thighs. I step under the water, and it sluices over me as memories of Julian's touch reawakens the hunger he just satisfied.

Last night’s two very different experiences appear to be linked: Vladimir's fall and my hunger for Julian.

Power—there is something about power here.

I soap my hands and run them up and down my breasts, bringing myself back to a place of starvation.If I keep this up, I'll have to wake Julian. He won't mind. He'll love it.

I'm smiling under the spray.

Shouldn't I feel guilty? Or afraid?

But I don't.

When I get out I wrap myself in a towel and return to the bedroom. Julian is still asleep, his arms spread wide, his legs apart, a satisfied smile on his face.

Dropping the towel, I climb back onto the bed and pull down the sheets, exposing his naked body. Goosebumps rise as the cool air graces his skin.

Power courses through me.He is at my mercy.

Admiring the muscles cording his thighs and waist, I take a tentative lick. He mutters and jumps a little but does not wake. I move closer to him, positioning my knees under me, and lick closer to his belly button. He thrusts his crotch up, and I glance at his face to find his eyes still closed, though his breathing is growing rapid.

I move slowly south, Julian rising to meet me.

By the time I wrap my mouth around him, he jerks into awareness. "Oh God," he says, his hands coming up to my hair. "Jesus, what..."

I look up to find his eyes boring into mine. I smile around him and take control.

I am powerful. I am running this world.

His head flops back onto the pillow—he knows it. And he likes it.

I havea missed call from an unknown number. Swiping over to the voicemail screen, I see there's a 10-second long message. We have press meetings this morning for two hours before our flight.

Julian comes up behind me and nuzzles my neck. I lean into him, closing my eyes, and let the phone fall back into my purse.

"You're amazing," he says into my hair.

I turn in his arms. "You're incredible," I say back.

His lips brush mine, and I bend to give him better access, my purse and phone forgotten…everything but the feel of him gone.

To be lost in this physical space is such sweet relief. Such a decadent escape. My fingers dive into his hair, feeling the thick waves of it. He groans and moves forward, pushing me against the wall. The solidness at my back, and the man at my front, gives me a sense of place, of purpose, and I wrap a leg around his waist as he deepens the kiss, his hands on my cheeks, holding me, angling me.

A knock at the door releases a low growl from his chest. I can't and don't want to stop the giggle that burbles up from my chest. "Angela?" It's Sandra.

Julian breaks the kiss and leans his forehead against mine. "I'm getting addicted," he whispers. A thrill runs through me. His glistening lips are right there, right in front of me.Mine.

I can do what I want with him. With anyone. I'm a freaking super spyanda famous actress.

The world is mine.

Pure erotic pleasure hums through me.

Sandra knocks again, this time more persistent. Julian leans away, releasing me from the wall. But really I'm the one who released him…