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I want it all—all his twisted, dark parts.

Without another word, he lifts my hips and savagely thrusts into me. I nearly gasp as the hard girth of his cock slides through my wetness. He takes my mouth as he pulls out, only to slam back into me, again and again.

This is no sweet claiming. This is need. This is possession. It’s everything that Des so assiduously fights against.

Damn me, I love every second of it.

“Harder,” I demand.

His lips curve up as he obliges.

It feels like more than just his cock is inside me, like all of him is surging forward and laying siege. And still I could stop him if I wanted.

If I wanted.

What I want is for him to screw me senseless and then screw me some more.

He takes my hands and presses them into the ground, holding me hostage as he pounds into me, his broad chest already slick with the first beads of sweat.

“Confess,” I command. “Confess to me what you are thinking.”

He stares down at me, a lock of hair dangling between us.

“I want to fuck you until you are mindless with want. I want to feel you squeeze my dick as you come around me. I want to die buried inside you.”

“Is this all you’ve got?” I say. “I’m disappointed.”

It’s a battle of wills at this point. His fae side pitted against my siren. His magic versus my own.

He flips me over and presses me into the ground. Leaning in close to my ear, he whispers, “We can’t have that now, can we?”

Des hikes one of my legs up and shoves his cock into me from behind. My eyes flutter at the force of the intrusion. He’s rougher than I’m used to—much rougher—and yet,my God, this is everything I never knew I wanted, and I can’t seem to get enough.

The ground chafes at my knees and breasts. Couldn’t fucking care less.

“Touch yourself,” the Bargainer orders, his magic riding the words. I’m a prisoner to them.

Of its own volition, my hand slips between my thighs, right where I’m already soaking wet. And then my fingers begin to stroke my clit.

It’s almost too much.

I arch back into Des, deepening his thrusts. I feel the slick slide of his skin against mine. In and out, in and out. I’m being rubbed in all the right places.

And then one of his hands skims my ass.

This is new. Is he going to … ?

His hand stops when it finds my other opening. He touches it, circles it, puts just the slightest pressure against it until the tip of his finger teases its way in.

“Oh myGod.”

Des leans in close. “Leave God out of this, cherub. He has nothing to do with it.”

Sinful, sinful man.

He keeps thrusting, I keep touching myself, and he keeps probing. It’s that last one that’s driving me mad.

“Deeper,” I say, breathlessly. It’s more the siren who demands it than me.