The vulnerable part.
He laughed against her collarbone. "Ash, how do you have the wherewithal to ask me questions? I must be doing something wrong."
"No." She panted a little as his tongue darted out to taste the hollow of her neck. "That's the point. You do this so well. I just wondered?"
"What?"
"How did you learn all this stuff? You're so good at it."
He groaned and buried his mouth against her. "You taste so good. I cannot believe you asked me that."
"It's just…I couldn't decide if your grandfather and you thought it was okay for you to have sex with women who are experienced. That seems like such a double standard, and then of course, there's your virginity to consider."
"I assure you, I am not a virgin."
"But didn't it bother you when you were? You know the first time. Or did the woman plan to marry you and something go wrong?" The thought of him engaged to another woman was not a comfortable one.
His body shook with laughter even as his mouth kept doing truly decadent and delicious things to her. "You are right. I am guilty of a double standard."
"Explain it to me."
"There are women who are open to sex without commitment."
"Yes." That was true.
"You are not one of them."
"But I'm not a virgin."
"Yet, you are still very innocent."
That wasn't something she wanted to dwell on, but compared to him…maybe. "So, you've had sex with lots of women?"
He sighed and straightened so their eyes met. "Not lots. I am no playboy."
"But you know so much…you like it a lot." He'd been really attentive the night before. Hungry even. "I can't see you celibate."
"Then your imagination has let you down, though mine could not conceive of this conversation. So, perhaps we are even. Only consider that for years I worked twenty-hour workdays and took only the breaks my mother demanded I give her. Neither instance is conducive to ongoing sexual liaisons."
"But you have had lovers?"
"I have had sex partners. Even when the same woman met that need for more than a few nights, the relationship would never be something I would describe as lovers. Or even a relationship really. We scratched a mutual itch."
"That sounds so cold." And crude, but she was getting used to his earthy way of discussing certain things.
He had not been raised in the refined and often stifling atmosphere she had been subjected to.
"It was. I did not realize how cold until I warmed at the fire of your honest passion the first time we kissed."
Wetness burned behind her eyes, her emotions choking her. He might not believe in love, but that sounded like she was special to him. She said so.
"Of course you are special. I want to marry you. You are my lover and you will one day be my wife."
She didn't have the strength to deny him right then—wasn't even sure she wanted to, so she avoided answering altogether by kissing him. He growled and yanked her body into his, pressing his hardness against her in a blatant demand and claim at the same time. She had no intention of refusing that demand, no hope to do so even if she'd wanted to.
He swept her into his arms and carried her into the bedroom, laying her down on the bed carefully as if she were both fragile and precious. She looked up at him, her heart in her eyes, her teeth clamped together to bite back the words of love that wanted to tremble from her lips.
He stood and began to undress. "Tonight, I want to take it very slow."
Her body was already suffused with heat and longing and they'd barely done anything. "I don't think I'll survive slow."
"You will more than survive it, you will enjoy it." His husky laugh warmed her. "I guarantee it."
"You're very confident."
"According to you, I have reason to be. You like my lovemaking. You think I am so good at it, you wonder how I learned such skill." Oh, he sounded arrogant, but pleased, too, and she couldn't help smiling.