He could have laughed at how easily he had twisted her to his whim; he could have had he not felt a sick twisting deep in his gut and a strong desire to snap the neck of the witch as she shifted closer against his body. Still, he kept the mask on, the veneer of lust far too easy to fake. He would play this out simply for the distraction that it created.

"Anything is a very big promise, Deveruex," he breathed, his lips pressing soft kisses along the column of her throat even as his fingers dug painfully into the smooth skin of her arm. "What if I asked of you something that you couldn't do? Then where would your promise be?"

He worked his mouth now along the edge of her collar, teeth nipping just at the right spots before he was pulling back and meeting her gaze. "Just how far would you go, Paris. How far would you really go to make me yours?"