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I’m glowing as brightly as I ever do. Normally I have to withhold some of my powers when I make love, otherwise my glamour can turn innocent words into commands that control my partner—and I like my sex consensual, thanks.

But with the Bargainer, I don’t have to worry about that; he can’t fall under my spell the way other men can. The sensation of being myself fully and completely—something I’ve never felt with anyone else—is liberating.

His hand touches my lacy panties. “These have to go.” The second the words are spoken, I feel an invisible hand tugging them off of me.

There’s no longer anything funny about the magic. Not when the Bargainer—Desmond—is staring at me with a promise in his eyes.

He kisses my lips, softly, gently, then positions himself. I can feel him at my entrance.

He pulls away from my lips, his eyes moving over my face. Again, I get the impression he’s memorizing the moment. As he watches, he pushes into me.

My pelvis rises to meet his, and inch by inch, he slides inside me. My lips part in silence surprise, our eyes locked together. All those years of waiting, of hoping, of despairing, it all led to this moment.

Perfection.

A shiver racks his body when he’s fully seated in me. “Want to stay here … forever.”

My throat works as my hands move over his shoulders, then slip around his back. I want him to stay right here too, the two of us wrapped up in each other.

He slides almost all the way out before thrusting into me hard. I moan at the sensation, the sound unearthly.

The smile he flashes me is pure sin. “I like making my sweet siren moan.”

He moves in and out of me, his strokes powerful.

God, he’s staggering to look at. His brows are stitched together, his lips parted, and with each thrust his abs flex. The sight of him doing this to me is itself nearly enough to get me off.

He lowers himself, his slick chest meeting mine, and his hands comb the hair away from my face.

He pulls me even closer, his cheeks brushing mine. His pace slow and tender.

Making love.That’s what this is. He’s being gentle, romancing me even after he’s received my love and found himself between my legs.

This is how it might always be.

Nights like this that stretch on and on into the future. My heart hurts at the possibility. True love—it always seemed just beyond my reach. I only ever believed in it because I had acutely felt its absence all those years we spent apart.

For so long I thought something was wrong with me emotionally. That I couldn’t love fully, that I couldn’t be myself. That I was weak. Here in this man’s arms, I realize for the first time in a long time that I’m not broken. Not even close.

I’m his mate.

He’s mine.

My hands slide up his corded back, then run along his arms, drinking in each one of his sculpted muscles.

The Bargainer bends down and nips at my breast, and suddenly I’m right there on the edge of an orgasm that’s been building long before Des even entered me.

As if he can sense how close I am, Desmond deepens each thrust, his eyes riveted to me. He dips down and kisses me roughly.

“I like this look on you, cherub,” he says. “And knowing I’m responsible for it.”

My arms tighten around him, pulling him closer as my eyes close and my mouth parts.

“Don’t you dare close your eyes,” he says. “I want to see everything I do to you.”

A burst of magic courses through me, forcing my eyes open.

“Desmond,” is all I have time to say before my orgasm rips through me.