Page 140 of Swordheart
Put like that, she felt like a coward.
And because no one was particularly interested,she added mentally, but that seemed like an even worse thing to admit.
“Well…”
“Is that the only reason, then? You can tell me the truth, if you find me repulsive. I’m not going to force myself on an unwilling woman.”
She sat up, appalled. “Of course it is! I mean I don’t! I—otherwise I would—yes,in a heartbeat. You’re very… very…” She tried to think of a word and failed. “Very,” she added, somewhat anticlimactically.
Sarkis smiled. “That was the word I was waiting for,” he admitted.
“What, ‘very’?”
“‘Yes.’”
The kiss this time started as innocent as the first one, but ended a good way from that. His tongue slid along her lips and Halla felt herself shaking.
When they broke apart, he had both hands cupped around her face again. “I’m no longer entirely human,” he said. “I doubt you have to fear bearing my children. But as there is a great deal of daylight between doubt and certainty, we won’t risk it.”
She blinked at him. “What?”
“Two people,” he said, sounding amused, “can do a great many things to bring each other pleasure that don’t end in children.”
“They can? I mean, you do hear things, but it always seems to end with someone catching pregnant.”
Sarkis snorted. “Because you mostly hear it from lusty young men who can’t keep more than one thought in their head at a time.” He drew her down beside him, tracing the line of her neck with his fingers. “Whereas I am several hundred years old, and if being in a sword has taught me anything, it’s patience.”
His breath in her ear was very warm. She was having a hard time thinking.
“I can show you,” he whispered. “If you want me to.”
“Really?”
“Really.”
No use dithering,thought Halla, a bit dazed.Roll up your sleeves and get to work.
Undoubtedly that wasn’t what her mother had meant, but at the moment, she didn’t care.
“Show me,” she said to Sarkis, and he did.
Anyone listening outside the bedroom door might have heard the following conversation over the next few minutes.
“Sarkis?”
“Do you not like that? I’ll stop if you don’t.”
“No, it’s lovely. I have a question.”
A sigh. “Ofcourseyou do.”
“Why do you think men like women’s breasts? As opposed to—I don’t know, shoulders or feet or—”
“Some men like feet.”
“What?”
“Feet. Some men are extremely fond of women’s feet.”
