She felt drunk with her newly discovered power. Moving her hand lower, she heard his moan of pleasure, saw his eyes narrow fractionally.
Then, with his hand beneath her chin, he lifted her face to his and covered her mouth in a kiss so hungry, so impatient, she felt as if she were being devoured. When at last he came up for air she clutched blindly at his waist and brought her lips to his throat. The fire spread, heating their bodies, searing their blood.
When his lips lingered at her throat she arched, giving him free access, her head back, her eyes half closed in pleasure. But when they moved lower, to close around her breast, his name came out in a broken sob.
"Morgan. Please."
He nibbled and suckled until she writhed beneath him.
His lips, his fingertips moved over her, seeking out all the hidden pleasures until her body hummed with need. His fingers found her, moist and ready.
"Tell me, love. Tell me you want me."
She felt herself beginning to climb, high, then higher still, until she reached the first peak. But he gave her no time to pause before he took her even higher.
Needs pulsed and shuddered within her until she thought she would explode.
"I do want you. Oh, Morgan, I love you."
Love. He savored the word as it washed over him. She loved him. It was more than he had ever hoped for. That this woman could love him, as he loved her. If he never had another blessing in his lifetime, this one would be enough.
Need ripped through him, shattering the last thread of his control. If he did not take her now he would go mad with the need for her.
Mad. Aye, it was madness that had driven him from the first moment he saw her. And there was no cure for it. Except this woman.
As he levered himself above her he looked down into her eyes and could read all the love, all the desire, in their blue- violet depths.
As he gently lowered himself into her and began to move, he was amazed to find that her strength, her needs, matched his. She moved with him, taking him higher, then higher still, until there was no longer any time for gentleness.
The fragrance of roses clung to her hair and skin. He breathed it in, filling his lungs. He was reminded of the field of heather, when he had wanted her with this same kind of desperation. From this moment on, whenever he smelled roses, he would think of her. And want her with this same terrible hunger.
He murmured words and phrases of love, or thought he did, as together they passed through a sky filled with shooting stars until they soared beyond the moon and felt themselves shattering into a million glittering fragments.
They lay, still locked in a fierce embrace, neither of them willing to break the fragile bond that held them.
Brenna's face was covered with a fine sheen of moisture. Morgan pressed his lips to her forehead. His breathing was shallow.
He felt the tremors that rocked her and touched a finger to the corner of her eye.
"Tears?" Immediately he started to draw away.
"I have hurt you."
"Nay." She caught him and held him to her.
"It is foolish, I know. But I feel like weeping."
"I know, love." He touched his lips to her tears and tasted the salt.
"Oh, Morgan." She clung to him and wept openly, no longer trying to hide the sobs that were wrenched from her.
"I know I cannot make up for what happened to you in the past. But if I could, I would erase all the pain from your poor heart."
He went very still, absorbing the shock as her words washed over him.
How generous she was. What a wonderful gift he had bebn given.
Rolling to one side he drew her into the circle of his arms and pressed his lips to her temple. With his thumbs he wiped away her tears.
"Do not weep for me, Brenna. Whatever happened before has just been erased for all time."
"But you said you never wanted to marry again. And now you have spoken for me."
He placed a finger over her lips to silence her.
"Hush, love. Forget the things I said earlier. I said them to hide the truth from my heart."
She glanced at him, her eyes wide.
"What do you mean?"
"Just this." He lifted a strand of her hair and watched through narrowed eyes as it sifted through his fingers.
"I love you, Brenna. I think I have loved you from the moment of our first meeting."
She knelt beside him. Her dark hair swirled around her breasts.
"You love me? Truly love me?"
"Aye." On his lips was a smile of pure pleasure.
"You are not saying this to soothe me because of what we have just shared?"
His smile grew. Laughter rumbled from deep in his chest.
"I love you, my lady. With all my heart and soul."
"And I love you, Morgan." She spoke the words with a hushed reverence.
She bent low until her hair spread across his chest like a veil.
"Tell me, my lord. When did you first realize you loved me?"
"Ah." He stifled the laughter that threatened.
"Why must a woman know such things?"
"It is our vanity." She kissed him hard, quick.