She was his sustenance.

She remained in his arms even as she broke the kiss and looked up into his face. He saw everything in her eyes then. Her trust, her hopes and her love. He saw that she loved him, and instead of frightening him, it gave him joy. He’d never earned the love of most of his closest companions. He’d sought it but never attained that moment of true acceptance.

And here it was, on her beautiful face.

“No one has been my champion for a long time,” she said softly. “I didn’t know how much I wanted one until you began to take on the role. But I have very little to reward you with, fair knight. Except to take you up to my bed and show you what it means to me to have you push my father beyond his most cruel and selfish desires.”

His lips parted. Take her to bed. Let her connect with him the only way he fully knew how. And when it was over, he would tell her the truth. Or at least part of it. That was what he had to do. He could only hope that shocking love he’d seen on her face wouldn’t be erased by the things he had to say.

Thomasina’s hands shook as she shut the chamber door behind them and turned to face her husband. A week of pretending she didn’t care, of distancing herself from him as he’d asked, had been nearly impossible. So many times she had wanted to go to him and curl into his life. So many times she had wanted to comfort him.

But now, after watching him put her father in his place at last, she couldn’t hold back. She needed connection and this was the only way he would allow it. With a shuddering sigh, she moved to him. He opened his arms without hesitation and she stepped into the space there, loving how she fit against him perfectly, dreaming that was by design. His mouth found hers and she lifted into him, seeking passion and pleasure.

But he seemed to have other ideas. He cupped her chin and drew back so that his lips were only brushing hers. “Slow,” he whispered against her mouth. “Please.”

The please was what did her in. If he asked, she couldn’t deny him. Not in this, not in anything else. She knew her own weakness. She could own it and revel in it.

She nodded, the act brushing their lips together. “Slow,” she repeated.

He tilted his head, angling his mouth against hers. The kiss deepened and she drowned in it. Drowned in him as they stood like that for what felt like an eternity. His hands fisted against her back, his passion restrained, and she shivered against him in anticipation.

“Turn around,” he ordered, his voice rough as he broke his mouth from hers.

She followed the demand, putting her back to him. She bent her head forward and he pressed a kiss to her hairline, then lower until he reached the edge of her gown. She pushed back against him with a gasp as sensation jolted through her. He made it all seem so easy to want him. To want them.