“Over two thousand years ago, a powerful coven cursed all the firstborn children of the royal families. The only way for me to see again is to find my fated mate. And that, my little carrot, is you.” He pokes my chin. “Only you can cure me.”

“How am I supposed to cure you?” I scoot back a little, preparing to do whatever it takes. “Let’s do it right now.”

His grin turns wicked. “Right now? Are you sure?”

“I don’t see why not.”

“We need to complete the bond.”

“Which means…?”

“As humans would say, we have to bang.”

“What?”

“You know, knocking boots. Bumping uglies.”

“Uh—wha—bu—” My stuttering ends with a cough. Because he’s joking. Right?

Damon’s forehead wrinkles with seriousness. “Did I get a saying wrong? Damn. What other euphemisms are there? Make whoopie, horizontal polka—”

“Stop.” Holding up a hand, I take several seconds to process his words. “Let me get this straight. You’re telling me you’re disabled, and the only way for me to fix you is to f*ck you?”