“You wanted to play, baby." Soft words that had her freezing in place. "So we'll play.”

“If you want nice, baby, play with your fucking dog. When you're ready to play with a man, then call me. (Zarek)”

“Daemon arched a brow. “You don’t wanna play, Barf, because we can do that nifty freeze thing and play, right here and now.” Oh, for the love of backwoods babies everywhere, this wasn’t necessary. I wrapped my fingers around Daemon’s tense arm. “Come on,” I whispered.”

“He made her play and she had almost forgotten how. Life had been so serious and so bitter. He knew how to play and swept her along with him.”

“It is my baby and if I want to bring it out to play again, I will.”

“You take control, Emma," he whispered. The words tickled her ear, he spoke them so close. Shivers raced down her neck, down her chest and her belly. "Take control of me. Come to me." Her neck arched, wanting his mouth to bite her. "If you do Emma, I may give you what you want. Or I may offer more than you can handle. Risk. That's what you like, isn't it? So play with fire. Play with me.”