“No,” I said, wrapping my arms around his neck. “Right here. Right now. Just like it used to be.” I don’t know what urgency drove me. Maybe it was the wine. Maybe it was the fear of another interruption like we’d had earlier. Maybe it was just the constant threats I seemed to face that made me want to grasp on to this moment before it could slip away. Or maybe I just hadn’t had sex in too long.

He studied me for a moment, and I thought he might refuse. Then, he made his decision and came forward to kiss me even harder than before. His body pushed me down so that my back was on the floor. That ridiculous “slayer” robe turned out to be pretty easy to get off, and so help me, he was completely naked underneath. He pushed my skirt up over my hips and tsked when he saw I had underwear on. This had been a longtime debate between us, seeing as gentry women rarely wore any with dresses.

He quickly took mine off and then lowered his body on top of me. His hands caught hold of my wrists, pinning me to the floor with the same domination he’d always shown in bed. A moment later, without further warning, he was in me, just as hard and long as I remembered. I let out a small cry of surprise, a cry he muffled with a kiss. My body seemed startled at first, seeing as it hadn’t had a lot of action in a while. It didn’t take long to recover, particularly since I was wetter than I’d expected.

He held me down and thrust himself in and out of me, awakening the desire we’d once shared. I grew lost in it, and soon it was as though no time had passed at all between us. I think he would’ve gone slow and easy if I had asked. I didn’t. I urged him on to take me harder and not hold back. My body reveled in it, loving the feel of him in me. I arched up when I finally came, and he pushed me back down, thrusting harder still as the orgasm wracked my body. He came almost immediately after, his face exquisite in the throes of ecstasy. I had a feeling it had taken every ounce of control he had to wait for my climax.

He collapsed down on me when he was done, panting and sweaty. I pulled him to me, running a hand over that brilliant, fiery hair. In the afterglow, lying half dressed on the floor seemed a little ridiculous—but only a little. I tried to think of something funny to say, but my brain was lazy and tired with bliss and affection.