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But when she dragged his face to hers, there was hesitation there, and she wasn’t sure what caused it. “Oliver, what’s wrong?”

His headshake was dismissive. “Nothing.”

She fought her tight lungs for air. “Tell me.”

He did it again, angled his face so she saw only one side of him. But at least he answered. “If we do this… I don’t know if I have the—” He cleared his throat. “What if I don’t have the stamina? What if—”

Her heart twisted. Looping her legs over his hips, she wiggled against him. “If you get tired, we’ll take a break. Easy as that.”

“Fuck. I hate this.” He dropped his forehead to her shoulder. “I’ve never needed to take a break before.”

“I’d enjoy taking a break with you.”

His body relaxed bit by bit, and he brought his lips to her temple. “Know what you’re getting yourself into.”

A final warning. But she shook that one off, too. Outside, rain beat against the windows; wind battered the siding. Inside, the fire crackled, scenting the air with pine sap and charred wood.

Being here with Oliver was a stupid thing to do. Just yesterday, he accused her of using sex to mine for information. What would stop him from throwing that in her face again? And yet when his slick tongue traced her nipple, she no longer cared. They’d have that fight later.

Sliding her hands along his stomach, she reveled in his low groan.

His face almost contorted in pain, he watched her through heavy-lidded eyes. “I haven’t wanted to be touched in years.”

Immediately, she froze. “Should I stop?”

“God, no. I’ve spent endless nights dreaming of this. What it would feel like to have you in my arms. How you’d feel. The things I’d do to you.”

She stroked through his long hair. It felt like cool water in her fingers. “Well, here we are. Want to show me?”

Terrible idea, sang a small voice in her head. Foolish. Reckless.

Very much not like her. But she wanted Oliver in a way that made it impossible to think. She needed his hands on her again, his lips… to hear him make that throaty sound she loved—part desire, part surprise at the pull between them.

Feeling as though she’d go crazy if she didn’t have him, she slipped her hands into his boxers and freed his hot, rigid erection. She traced her thumb over him. Thick, long. Perfect, just as she’d remembered. When she spread the bead of desire across the crown, his groan was low, feral.

“I wanted you from the moment I saw you.”

“When I mauled you at your door?” Making a fist of her hand, she stroked.

“Fuck.” He bucked into her hold. “Just like that.”

She could smell her own arousal, adding to the wildness of the night, the raging storm, the crackling fire, the rush of his breath.

“Enough.” Separating her from him, he reached out blindly into the nightstand, searching out a condom packet.

“You decided to keep them close.”

But he was in no mood for jokes, rolling the sheath over himself, stroking himself through her slickness, sending a jolt of pleasure to her toes. “Last chance to change your mind.”

Catching his head in her hands, she brought his mouth to hers as answer.

Roughly, he pulled away. “Up. On your knees.”

He guided her to face away from him, his palm on her back until her hands fisted the sheets. The mattress dipped as he settled behind her, fitting himself to her entrance. He slid into her inch by gradual inch, as if he couldn’t quite believe this was real.

When his thighs pressed flush against her, he breathed her name like a wish. Or profanity. In that moment, Addy didn’t care.

Slow, delicious thrusts that burned away control. His. Hers. She cried out, demanding more of him. “Oliver.”