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His wrathful side.

“I really hate to break it to you, Des, but I’ve already seen you angry.”

Several times. He’s always fearsome to behold.

“Not like this.” He shakes his head. “Not like this.”

His hands glide up my waist, and that’s all it takes for me to realize that even when he’s angry—maybe especially then—I want him.

His rage and his touch are stirring the siren within me. I denied her earlier. I’m not sure she’ll be denied again.

I roll my hips against his. Beneath me, I feel him harden.

Des’s hands tighten on my flesh. “Careful,” he says, in a tone that should set my teeth on edge.

I lean forward, my breath against his lips. “Or elsewhat?” I challenge.

Des’s eyes narrow even as his mouth begins to curl into a smile. He hooks one of his arms around me and flips us so that my back is now on the ground and his hips are nestled tightly between my thighs.

“Tonight I have especially little control,” he warns. It’s only now that I notice the shadows at his back. They gather into the shape of his wings, then dissipate. Gather then dissipate. Again and again.

He really is on the knife’s edge of control.

“You’ve never been with me when my fae side comes out to play,” he says. There’s a note to his voice that is not human.

“I’m not scared of your fae side,” I say defiantly. I never was.

He clicks his tongue. “Callie, Callie,” he admonishes.

As he speaks, I feel my clothes melt off me, like they were made of hot wax and not fiber. It’s a nifty little trick of the Bargainer’s.

His clothes follow, and now I feel the hard length of him pressing against my pelvis.

He drops down to take a breast into his mouth. That’s all it takes for my skin to brighten and my siren to surface.

I feel a slight shudder work through him, and I’m not entirely sure if that’s because he can sense my magic through our connection, or if my siren simply has that effect on him.

“Sweet siren,” he says between kisses, “you better sharpen those claws. Tonight I don’t plan on being nice.”

He spreads my legs wide. It’s almost lewd how open I am to him. The entire time he watches me greedily.

“Aren’t you precious to think I’m worried,” I openly taunt him. “I have my own tricks,” I tap his lips with my finger, “tricks that you are no longer …immune to,” I say, glamour filling my voice.

Des’s eyes flicker and his wings manifest, spreading wide behind him. They are backlit by the flames, and the thin membranes of them glow with pale warmth.

“Idareyou, siren.” The Bargainer’s features seem to sharpen.

So the little fairyhascome out to play.

This is Truth or Dare all over again. Only now, I’m the one that holds all the cards.

How utterly exquisite.

“Do your worst, Desmond Flynn,” I command him.

Something dark and obsessive and distinctly fae shines in his eyes as he pins me down to the ground, his body living shackles. I wantonly grind myself against him.

I can feel through our bond this strange need to capture and cart me away. Toclaimandkeep.