Griffin moved to lie beside her as he slowly licked her juices from his lips. ‘The French call it le petit mort—the little death,’ he translated huskily.
Bea certainly felt as if she had died and gone to heaven and she was sure that she had never experienced pleasure like it.
‘The English refer to it as a climax, or an orgasm.’ Griffin smoothed the hair back from the dampness of her brow.
‘I— Does that—does that always happen to a woman when—when a man and woman are t-together?’ she prompted shyly.
‘Only if the man cares enough to ensure her pleasure, which sadly too many rarely do.’ His jaw tightened. ‘And if the woman allows herself to become excited or stimulated.’
Bea gazed up at him searchingly, detecting a bitterness beneath his tone and the sudden bleakness of his expression. She was too satiated, too lethargic to care at that moment as she lay unabashedly naked beside him. Modesty seemed a little silly when Griffin had not only looked at her most intimate of places, but had also licked and tasted her there.
All bitterness fled as he smiled down at her, his gaze warm. ‘You are a singular woman, Bea. Very passionate and giving.’
She smiled. ‘I believe you are the one who is remarkable, for having ignited that passion. I— Does a man experience that same climax?’
Griffin drew in a sharp breath, unsure of how to answer her. It was obvious Bea was an innocent, that her own responses just now had surprised her, her orgasm was a shock to her. How much more shocked would she be if she were to see him achieve his climax?
‘Griffin?’
He closed his eyes briefly before looking at her. ‘I do not know how to answer you, Bea,’ he admitted honestly.
‘With the truth?’
Griffin’s lids lowered. ‘My own arousal is more physically visible than your own.’
‘The swelling in your pantaloons?’
‘The swelling in my pantaloons,’ he confirmed uncomfortably.
She sat up slightly. ‘Would you—? Can I see it?’
He swallowed as he saw how pretty her breasts looked as she sat forward, so firm and uptilting, her nipples still swollen and rouged from his earlier ministrations.
He gave a shake of his head. ‘That would not be a good idea.’ Felicity had visibly paled the first time she had seen him naked. Despite all his efforts to arouse her, to ease his passage, she had screamed the first time he had penetrated her, until he had retreated again when her sobs had become too much for him to bear. The second time had been no better, nor the third, thus setting a pattern for their physical intimacy that had never changed.
Not that he intended to penetrate Bea. She was an unmarried lady, an innocent still, whether she believed it or not, and once inside her Griffin knew he would be unable to stop himself from spilling his seed.
No, far better that he should send Bea back to her bed before he returned to his own chamber, where he could douse himself in cold water! ‘I believe you might sleep now if you were to return to your bedchamber.’
Bea was sure that she would, her body having an unaccustomed lethargy, a feeling of fullness and satiation, and no doubt resulting from her orgasm.
But she did not feel like falling asleep. She did not want their time together to be over just yet, and there was still that intriguing bulge in Griffin’s pantaloons to explore.
‘May I please see?’ She looked at him encouragingly.
His jaw tightened as he obviously waged his own inner battle. Quite what that battle was, Bea had no idea, but she knew that there was one from the stormy grey of his eyes and the clenching of his jaw.
‘You really are a witch!’ He groaned his defeat and began to unfasten his pantaloons. ‘The moment you are frightened you will tell me to stop.’
‘Frightened?’ Bea looked at him incredulously as she watched that unfastening in fascination. ‘Why would I be frightened?’
‘You are a genteel lady and I am...overlarge, in that area,’ he acknowledged reluctantly as he unfastened the tie of his drawers.
‘But that is surely because you are altogether an overlarge man?’
‘Yes,’ he bit out grimly. ‘But some ladies find me unpleasantly so. Especially here.’ He folded back his drawers as he spoke the last word, allowing his arousal to spring free of all restraint as he lay back on the rug and stared up at the shadowed ceiling.
Almost as if he could not physically bear to watch her reaction, Bea realised.
She sat up completely, her fascinated gaze fixed on his member; surrounded by dark curls at its base, it was indeed an impressive size, but Bea saw no reason at all for fear. She looked up at Griffin’s face, frowning as she saw how pale and strained he looked. ‘Does it hurt to be so swollen?’