Page 59 of Rules for a Bastard Lord
“No thanks are necessary, Miss Bluebell. That was my pleasure,” he said, and he meant every word.
She swallowed, then seemed to reluctantly gather herself together. She straightened up slightly on the chair and pulled her knees together. He did not interfere. Indeed, he picked up the basin and dumped the water out the back rather than let her see the tiniest tinge of pink. There wasn’t any. There had been too little blood. But he was excruciatingly aware of it.
“Is it always like that?”
He shook his head. “That was like a first meal, and a good one, I hope.”
She grinned. “Very good.”
“But experiences are as varied as the dinners you have eaten.”
She arched her brows, looking young and mischievous. “There is not much variety in the food I eat.”
“Then mayhaps your every encounter will be as wonderful as this.”
She nodded, but her gaze went to him. To his falls, most specifically, as he set the basin away. He had not been looking directly at her. He wanted her to feel unpressured and hold on to her languor as long as possible. But he was too aware of her, even from the corner of his eye, and so he saw the direction of her gaze.
“Will you show me now?”
“Uh…what?” He turned directly to her, afraid to guess what she wanted.
“You said that what I just did…that ladies do that all the time in the dark of their bedrooms.”
“Yes, that’s true.”
“So if this is what women do, will you show me what men do?”
He gaped at her. There was no other word for the way he stared, dumbfounded.
“We are sharing, yes?” she pressed. “As friends?”
Friends? Sharing?
She straightened fully. “We are showing each other things. It is not whoring—”
“Of course not!”
“Then…” Her eyes took on a pleading aspect, though her voice remained casual. “Share with me.”
“You want to see…me?”
“Doing what men do.”
Good God, she was serious. And he wanted to do it. Desperately. “It is…” How to phrase the thrusting and grunting, not to mention the messy release? “It’s not an attractive thing.”
“Did you find what I did attractive?”
“Absolutely.”
“Then why do you think a man is different?”
Wasn’t she a country-bred girl? Didn’t she understand the basics? “The man strains and moves.”
“I did as well. At least, I think I did.”
“And—”
She pushed to her feet, coming to stand directly before him with her chin lifted and her arms dropped onto her hips. “I showed you everything, did I not?”
