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“Go slowly,” she pleaded.

A low growl filled her ears. “I’ll try.”

Davina took a deep breath. She felt the tip of him pressing inside her and she did as he instructed, relaxing her inner muscles. Her arms went around his back and she hugged him. He thrust deeper. Another low growl filled her ears and she moaned as the pleasure grew.

She found the rhythm effortlessly, lifting herself to meet his every stroke. The urgency started again, sending a flush of heat washing over her. She felt herself driving the cadence faster and harder. Her moans grew louder and she heard herself gasping with an almost desperate longing.

“Open yer eyes, Davina. Look at me!”

Startled, she did as he bade, staring into his eyes. The hunger and yearning she expected, but the naked love was a gift, the most precious of all.

The pleasure rose again quickly and suddenly she felt herself straining and shuddering. With a soft cry Davina buried her face in the hollow of his shoulder and surrendered to the explosive ecstasy.

Her release hastened his. James thrust harder, faster, his breath harsh against her ear. Then he went still and she could feel the pulse of him deep inside her as he spilled his seed.

He collapsed on top of her, pinning her with his weight, but this time there was no rush of fear or panic. The sensuous daze of their lovemaking still held her enthralled.

“I’m too heavy,” James muttered, making a lackluster effort to move himself off her.

“Nay, stay,” she whispered. Lifting her legs, she wrapped them around his thighs, holding him in place. “I like having ye this close to me.”

She ran her hand lightly over his back, brushing kisses over his shoulder and neck. Her heart ached with love, and the smile on her lips would not fade.

Never had she felt such joy. Such deep contentment. Such total exhaustion.

“I love ye, Davina.”

A smile touched her lips. If she lived to be a hundred, she would never grow tired of hearing those words from him.

“I love ye, James. Ye and no other man.”

He emitted a masculine growl of gratification, then rolled over, taking her with him. She settled comfortably beside him and he kissed her temple. Her eyes drifted shut and she fell in a deep, dreamless sleep.

James watched Davina while she slept, staring at her profile, committing each delicate feature to memory. She was so lovely, he ached, his chest heaving with emotion. What he felt for Davina went beyond desire, beyond passion, beyond love.

They had connected on a level higher than the physical, a humbling realization. Being with Davina filled the holes in James’s heart, somehow melting away the thoughts of reckoning that had consumed him. Erasing the desperate years of loneliness when he had yearned so intently for what he had lost, becoming angry and despondent.

Observing her now he wanted to lean over and gently kiss her plump lips, but her slow breaths told him that she was in a deep sleep, and he didn’t have the heart to wake her. She had more than earned her rest after their spirited lovemaking. He would not be an inconsiderate, demanding husband.

He hoped he hadn’t been too rough in their coupling this night. A mere glimpse of her lovely, white flesh had been enough to fuel his ardor and his passion had been difficult to control.

Carefully, he brushed a tendril of damp hair from her face. He felt a searing burst of possession, followed by a dark yearning so strong it pierced his heart like a knife.

God grant me another chance.

He muttered the words beneath his breath like a prayer. James knew he had her love, but equally important was her trust, for without it their marriage had no chance of lasting happiness.

She reached for him in her slumber and he promptly forgot his resolve to let her sleep. She was simply too much of a temptation to resist. He kissed her neck, her shoulder, then swirled his tongue over her nipple. He heard hear gasp as her eyelids opened.

An impish spark lit her eyes. She curled her fingers around his erection and began fondling him. “Ye must think me a bold and brazen lass to wake me from a peaceful slumber like that, James McKenna.”

He felt his heart catch tight in his chest. “Ye are a passionate woman, Davina McKenna. I’m proud to be the man to awaken yer womanly desires.”

She scrunched her nose. “My womanly desires? Och, ye sound like a troubadour spinning a fancy tale and bad one, too. Ye best not be letting anyone else hear ye spout such flowery nonsense.”

“I told ye that I lack a silver tongue,” he said, raising his hand to trace a finger along the slope of her cheek.

“Ye have a magical tongue, sir knight, as my well-sated body can attest.” She shifted to her side and they lay face-to-face. “I cannae fathom sharing these intimacies with any other man but ye, James. Not only because ye are my husband, but because I love ye.”