Bollocks, that took a turn, but perhaps this conversation needed to be had.
Tristan stepped back and sat on the edge of her bed. Now she stood over him, a position of power.
“What do you know about the act of lovemaking?”
“The act of procreation? I understand the basics. Though I don’t think love is involved. That’s just poetic drivel.”
Tristan raised a brow at that. “Well, poetic drivel aside, a male’s cock is designed to fit inside a woman. In the heights of pleasure, a man releases his seed and that takes root in the woman’s womb and a baby grows.”
“I’ve attended a birth. My mother is our village midwife.”
“That’s good.”
“Is it? There was lots of screaming and blood.”
“I’ve never witnessed birth other than in farm animals so I couldn’t tell you if that is normal.”
“Not all women scream. I know that. When you say that organ can bring pleasure I don’t understand how.”
“What happened to you was not what consensual relations are. You were attacked. Harmed. It won’t be like that with a future husband.”
“How? Won’t it involve the same motions?”
“Yes and no. Where there is attraction and desire, like what we share, our bodies respond to it. Mine like this,” he gestured toward his groin. Thankfully his ardor had cooled. There was nothing romantic or sensual about this conversation, but it was necessary. “Yours is different.” He ran a hand through his hair. “I’m certain Dr. Sloan would have a better way of discussing this in a more straightforward manner.”
She moved to sit beside him. “I’m sorry.”
“Do not apologize. You’ve done nothing wrong. It is I who am lacking in this specific area of education. I can show you, but explaining it is beyond me, unless I use poetic drivel.” He shrugged.
“All right. Start with the drivel.” She waved for him to continue.
Tristan laughed. “Very well, here I go. A woman’s pleasure is like... Bollocks, I’m not poet, either. I didn’t plan for this.”
She smiled. “I won’t judge too harshly.”
Tristan sighed, searching his brain for a good analogy for a woman in a state of arousal. He knew how to make a woman come with expertise, but how to describe it?
“When a woman is feeling passionate and wants to engage in intercourse, her nether—”
She frowned.
“Not nether, then.”
“Vulva? Vagina?” she offered. “Those are the scientific terms.”
“But those terms don’t illicit desire now do they? No. This isn’t a lecture, so I’ll stick to poetic drivel since it does have a reputation for its uses in seducing women.”
She scoffed and he chuckled.
“Imagine the lips between your thighs are petals of a flower. When you want me to touch you, taste you, that flower will bloom, opening for me, the soft petals slicken with your own arousal and that makes that act of my body joining with yours not painful, but smooth and sweet like warm honey. My cock fills you and strokes to life the deep pleasure center inside you.”
She shifted, her cheeks once again pink and his cock swelling as he realized he’d made his analogy specifically about them.
“Then show me,” she said.
Much to his surprise.
His cock agreed, but Tristan had just enough sense to think clearly. “No. Not tonight. Not the first night that we embark on this journey. I said we’d go slow, and I mean it.”
