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They moved at the same time. Avery lifted to her toes, hands white-knuckled in his shirt. Wolfe bowed, as he always would for her, to reach her mouth. The kiss was a benediction, a balm, a sear against his soul.

There was no hesitation, no questions left to be asked.

Wolfe moved her to the wall by the fire, backing her against it. Heat licked against his leg and he smirked.

“Chapter forty,” he whispered, nipping her lip.

She laughed breathlessly, hands sliding up the wall above her head. He groaned, trapping her wrists with one of his hands.

“I like it,” she whispered, eyes glowing.

“Burn me,” he commanded. “Leave nothing behind.”

He captured her mouth again, handing himself over to the kiss. He wanted to be gentle, to slow down, to savor every second of it, but his heart was roaring in his ears, his entire body trembling against hers.

Avery was just as wild, just as hungry, lifting her leg to wrap around his hip and bring him closer. She rolled against him, wrists straining against his hold. He tasted every one of her sighs and whimpers, his control fraying further and further. He angled her chin up, fingers skirting down to cup her jaw.

He had never been kissed like this—had never kissed anyone else like this. Every stroke of his tongue against hers, every nip of teeth, sent a lick of heat through his veins.

When she tugged against him again, he released her wrists.

Her hands slipped below his shirt, cruising over the muscles in his abdomen.

He’d forgotten that, too.

How strong he’d once been.

Hours at the docks, helping the fishermen haul in the nets. Long days in the farming fields helping those that needed an extra set of hands. His palms were still rough with it, calluses scraping against her sensitive skin.

Avery worked the fabric up and over his head, revealing his bare chest to the light. It heaved on another heavy breath and he noticed with no small level of satisfaction that her eyes were glazed over, tongue darting out to lick her lower lip.

She touched him reverently and he allowed it, watching those gentle fingers learn every dip and valley of him. She’d already brought him back to life, but every touch felt like it consecrated him further, tethering him forever to the here and now.

He moved toward her again, skimming his hands under the edge of her sweater. She lifted her arms, a silent command to remove it. He should take her upstairs, lay her down and do this properly, but she was already reaching for him, drawing him back into her arms.

“Avery—”

“No.” She kissed him again, hands trailing up his chest. “No more hesitations. No more questions. Please. I want this. I want you.”

He moved like an asp, lifting her by the waist and bringing her to the fire-warmed rug on the ground. She locked her legs around his hips, bringing them flush together. Her hair spilled behind her, glinting in the light.

“Should be in a bed,” he groaned, working his hips against hers.

“Next time,” she panted.

His grin was wolfish, nearly feral. “Next time?”

Her answering smile was just as wild. “I have plans for us.”

He moaned, working his hands behind her back to remove her bra. “Not half as many as I have for you, believe me.” He nipped her throat. “Christ, you feel like heaven.”

Her chest brushed his and he dipped his head, allowing his mouth to run across her neck and collarbones. Avery squirmed, hands tight in his hair as he sucked a nipple into his mouth. He flicked his tongue across it and reveled in the sounds coming from the back of her throat.

He shook when he unbuttoned her pants and worked them down her hips, taking her underwear with them. Wolfe slid down her body, tasting as he went. Her legs parted for him and he slipped a hand between them, finally feeling for himself the mess he’d caused.

Avery breathed his name, fingers clawing into the rug.

He watched, wide-eyed, as he touched her. One knuckle slipped in, then another. She lifted her hips for him, working herself against his fingers.