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His words are another blow to those walls of mine. He’s mercilessly ripping them down.

“Now,” he continues, “it’s my turn, cherub, to do something with you that I’ve always wanted to,” he says.

My skin brightens at that.

He picks me up and, still shirtless, carries me through his house. I resume kissing the underside of his jaw, the siren in me eager. So, so eager.

He groans. “Never realized how good that feels. Please … have some mercy.”

My breath fans out against his skin, and I ignore his plea, kissing him more, my blood thrilling at his reaction.

A moment later, his wings appear. They expand, only to curve around the two of us. I reach out and stroke one.

“Jesus …”

I never thought that Des would melt beneath my touch. This, I can get used to.

Moving into his bedroom, he forces his wings back so that he can lay me out on his bed. Stepping away, he closes his eyes.

I push myself up on my forearms, trying to figure out what he’s up to.

A second later, Des’s wings disappear. Only then does he join me on the bed, propping himself up against the headboard and pulling me against him. My head nestles onto one of his sculpted pecs, and my breath hitches. Even the siren in me is caught up in the moment. She’s used to running the show, but now she wants to be seduced—rather than do the seducing—right now.

He stares down at me, a wily spark in his eye. “Comfortable, love?”

Love.

That one’s new.

I smile like an idiot in spite of myself.

I’m not sure what his next move is going to be until a laptop floats through his doorway, landing neatly on his stomach.

My lips part when I realize what’s going on, my pulse in my throat.

Our movie nights. Back at school, we used to do this all the time.

Opening the laptop up, Des clicks openHarry Potter and the Deathly Hallows: Part 1.

“We never got to finish the series together, so … I thought we might watch the last two movies.”

This is what he always wanted to do with me?

My throat constricts. I hadn’t realized he’d enjoyed our movie nights as much as I had.

“I’d really like that,” I finally say, because he’s waiting to hear something.

Giving me a small smile, he tucks a hand behind his head and starts the movie. And then we settle in, just like we used to. For once, our closeness, our silence does feel just as comfortable now as it did years ago.

Two odd hours later, tears are silently streaking down my cheeks as the movie ends. They drip down my face and onto the Bargainer’s chest.

I feel his eyes turn to me.

“Are you …crying?” he asks.

Cat’s out of the bag.

I sniffle. “Dobby wassucha good friend.”