It's so much different having Oliver pressed against her from the top and she revels in how solid he is once more. Everything was so warm and she swore she was going to overheat before things got much further along and, before she could drown in his eyes, she closed her own. It was necessary to calm her breathing and center herself, though it had the added bonus of not allowing her to look at him, knowing that he was naked from the top up when she whispered, "We're still too dressed for this."

The 'this' they kept referring to. She'd wanted this for as long as she'd known him, too, and he had to have known it. He couldn't be that dense; women all over had wanted Oliver Queen. Men wanted Oliver. And now he was in her bed and she could feel his arousal as he leaned over her. It was too tempting not to, so she arched her body up just a little, teasing her hips into his cock.

"Me, too." It was totally inarticulate and not the babbling she was used to, but she had to tell him that she wanted him as much as he wanted her.