Too much. Far too much. My hips move of their own accord, my body glowing brighter than those sparklers hanging throughout the room. I can’t take this.

I try to crawl backwards, away from his mouth, panting.

“Ah, ah, cherub,” he says, dragging me back, “you’re not going anywhere. Not until I’m finished with you.”

He won’t release me. He won’t release me, and I’m bucking against him.

I let out a strangled sob. “Des, please.” There’s way too much sensation down there, and it’s building. Building, building, building.

“Come for me.” He’s now just sucking on my clit.

Impossible to think through this.

“Des.” My body is just a bundle of nerves, all of them taut. I can’t get away, and I can’t stand much more of this. I’m right on the edge, and with each stroke of his tongue …

“Come.”

… I begin to fall.

“Oh my god, Des.” The siren’s entered my voice.

I stare blankly at the beautiful ceiling, my vision going unfocused, as my orgasm lashes through me, lasting longer and burning brighter than any others I’ve ever had.

By the time I come down, the Bargainer is kissing my inner thighs, his touch still proprietary. My legs slip off of his shoulders, and he catches them, closing them gently and pulling my dress down.

He gathers me in his arms and moves us to the head of his bed.

I stare at him with astonishment.

“That was …” Incredible. Mind-blowing. Unbelievable.

“A long time in coming,” he finishes for me.

Des strokes my hair back, his eyes filled with such longing. My heart squeezes at the sight of it. Leaning in, he kisses me, and I taste myself on his lips. It’s vulgar and arousing, and my dimming skin brightens all over again.

His fingers trail across my arm.

I stare up at him, trying like an idiot not to think about the fact that Des just went down on me. This beautiful man who’d always been so out of reach took a bead just so that he could give me an orgasm.

The world is utterly backwards—and I never want it to right itself.

“What are you thinking about?” I ask.

“So much, cherub.”

I finger the bronze war bands that circle his upper arm.

“I’ve imagined you in my bed a thousand times,” he continues, his gaze on me.

This moment is surreal to me.

“A thousand times?” I don’t know what to do with the woozy, lightheaded sensation that rolls through me. It’s somewhere between elation and flattery, and hope so sharp it hurts. Once again, I’m scared—of him, of us. Of having everything I ever wanted within my grasp, only for it to slip through my fingers. Because it will slip through my fingers. That’s just the nature of things.

He presses his lips close to my ear. “Do you want to know a truth of mine?”

“Always,” I say, turning my head to better face him.

He takes my hand and presses it against his chest. Beneath my palm I feel his heartbeat racing.

My eyes move from his chest to his face.

“It does that whenever I’m around you,” he says.

I stand out on his balcony, looking out at the night sky. Once I regained the use of all my limbs, I explored Des’s rooms, ending up out here.

I stare out at all those pale buildings and gardens that spread out from the castle.

The Bargainer reigns over all of this.

Over all of this and more.

Des steps out onto the balcony.

“Most of the time I forget that you’re a king,” I say.

“I’m glad,” he says, coming in behind me. He braces his arms on the railing, caging me in. “I don’t want you to think of me as a king. I want you to think of me as a man.”

I understand that. Labels can be dangerous, dangerous things, even when they’re seemingly desirable.

“I want to know about this side of you,” I say.

I want to know how he came into power. How many years he’d been ruling. I want to know whether he made decisions by himself, or if he had a committee of trusted advisors. I want to know all the boring, inane things that went along with his position because I simply want to know more about him.

He presses a kiss to my shoulder. “One day, cherub, I’ll tell you,” he says.

I turn towards Des, staring down at the skin he just kissed. I catch sight of the intricate tattoos running along Des’s left arm and begin to trace them.

Beneath my fingers, I feel him shiver.

“Where did you get these?” I ask.

“That is also a story for another time.”

Des and his secrets. Always his secrets.

I sigh, returning my attention to his kingdom.

The two of us stand together like that for a long time, not talking.

“Want to know a secret?” the Bargainer asks.

This must be a consolation prize; I’m not to know about who Desmond the king is, or about the ink that stains his arm, but he will give me a secret—forget that it might not have anything to do with anything.

“Yes,” I breathe. I’m pathetic enough to take what I can get.

He wraps an arm around my midsection, pressing my back flush against his chest. “The Kingdom of Night is the strongest kingdom in the Otherworld. Tell that to fae of any other realm, and they’ll argue with you. But it’s true.”

He points over my shoulder to the sky above. “Tell me, what do you see out there?”