“Then your husband should explain it.”
“But it’s so much easier to ask you,” Why did she feel so comfortable asking him these things? Perhaps because he didn’t seem ashamed of them. Besides, he wasn’t courting her, so she didn’t have to worry about how she came across to him.
He drew in a deep breath. “Fine.” Then he cleared his throat again. “A woman has a hole.”
“I’m aware of that,” she answered, looking over at him, the funniest tickle in her belly.
He paled, just a bit. Even in the sun. “You are? How?”
She tsked. “Don’t you know your own anatomy? I’ve done some exploring.”
“Exploring?” his voice cracked. “You’ve done some exploring?”
“Yes. Now can we please continue to the parts I’m not aware of?”
Raithe was in hell. Images of Charlie exploring herself were wreaking havoc on his body and his mind. By God, he wanted to watch. He’d bet her lower lips were the same pale pink as—He stopped. His breeches had grown uncomfortably tight and his mind could hardly put together a coherent thought. “Charlie,” his voice sounded strangled even to his own ears. “Are you always so blunt?”
“Yes,” she answered. “It’s how I got the nickname Charlie to begin with. Dane has always said I sound more like a man than a woman. My mother hated it. Always trying to convince me to be more demure.” She looked down at the path. “I even miss that.”
Her grief lessoned the burden of his awareness. She ached from loss just as he did. “I know.”
Her head snapped up. “You do?”
There wasn’t room in one walk for two sad stories, so he switched back to their previous topic. The one that was going to leave him aching all day. “A man has a rod. For lack of a better term.” He would not teach her the terminology. Even he had limits.
“Oh.” She sucked in her breath and then her hand fluttered to his chest. “Does it go into the…”
Christ. Now he was picturing sliding inside her body, her creamy thighs wrapped about him. Shivers of awareness ran down his spine, and he’d turned to granite. He’d doubted he’d ever find relief. “Yes.”
“Why do women say that it hurts?”
Now that he could answer. “The first time, there is skin that needs to be broken. It’s just the once.”
“Oh, that makes sense.” She tapped her chin, then turned back to him. “Do women feel pleasure? After the first time?”
“Yes. Many do.” His teeth had clamped together and he pushed the words out between them.
“Hey,” Rathmore called from ahead. “Keep up now.”
“Gladly,” Raithe muttered. Because the very idea of her finishing underneath him had desire coursing through his body.
Blessedly she fell silent as they finally reached the beach. “And obviously men find it pleasurable as well. That’s why they try to convince women to allow them…” She let her voice taper off, thank the lord. If she said any more he might explode in his pants like a school boy.
“Partially,” he said, breathing a sigh of relief after they’d ventured back into safer territory. Discussing the behavior of rakes was so much safer than a woman’s pleasure. “I think the rakes that target innocent women like the thrill of the hunt and conquest as much as the act itself. Innocents are more difficult to coerce.”
They moved faster now that they’d reached the beach. “And that isn’t you?”
“No,” he answered honestly. He’d kept his activities to women who understood the bargain. It was a transaction. “That isn’t me.”
“So how will I know if a man’s attention is genuine?”
He drew in a breath. “He’ll want to protect you as much as he’ll wish to bed you.”
“Oh,” she gasped. “That is beautiful.”
He shrugged. It was how he’d felt about Jennifer. And on that front he’d failed. He didn’t ever want to fail another woman again. “Have I answered enough questions for the day?”