Chapter 26

CHAPTER 26

“ I zzie,” Archibald said, his voice full of alarm, “what’s wrong?”

She wished he wouldn’t ask that question. “Nothing!” she lied.

His face was agonized. “Did I hurt you? Oh, God, Izzie—I’m so sorry, I—”

“It’s not that,” she bit out, then cringed because her phrasing implied that there was a problem; it just happened to be something else.

“Then what is it?” he asked gently. When she sat up, looking away, he sat up, too, and took her hand. “Izzie?”

“I’m just”—she cast about for the right word—“disappointed.”

“I see.” He fell silent a moment. “I apologize. I somehow formed the impression that you reached a similar level of satisfaction during our lovemaking as I did. Clearly, that was not the case, and I will set about rectifying it immedia—”

“That’s not it,” she groaned. Lord, but this was embarrassing. “It was very good for me. It could not have been better.”

He waited for her to continue. When she didn’t, he asked, “Then what has you feeling disappointed?”

“There’s something the matter with me. I did enjoy it, but only when you started rubbing me at that spot between my legs. But I’m supposed to derive my pleasure from… from…” She blushed, looking away. “You know.”

“From my cock?” he asked.

“Yes. That.” Gracious, her cheeks were on fire. She might be bold, but she’d been a virgin a half-hour ago. “There’s obviously something wrong with me, and I…” She trailed off, looking down.

When she chanced a glance up, Archibald was studying her. “This is all starting to make sense.”

She laughed, incredulous. “It is? I’m glad one of us thinks so.”

“Yes.” He took her by the waist, hauling her into his lap. “Who says you’re ‘supposed to’ reach your pleasure from just my cock?”

“Everyone,” she answered immediately.

He shook his head. “No, not everyone. I don’t say that. So, who told you that?”

“One of our housemaids,” Izzie said in a rush. “When I was fourteen, I paid her a shilling to answer my questions, to explain what went on between a man and a woman.”

“Ah. And this housemaid was your primary source of information, other than your brother’s book, of course.”

“That’s correct.”

“And she didn’t say anything about that other spot? The one on the outside, where I touched you?”

“No. I was quite surprised when you started kissing me there in the drawing room. Although it worked remarkably well.”

He rubbed her back. “So, that’s why you were worried that you were frigid. When you experimented, you followed this maid’s advice and touched yourself on the inside, but you didn’t even know about your clitoris.”

Izzie was too startled to feel embarrassed about the fact that he had guessed exactly what she’d been doing—or at least, attempting to do—alone in her bed at night. “My… what’s it called? Cli…?”

“The clitoris. The spot that is the center of most women’s pleasure.”

Izzie frowned. “The maid I asked didn’t mention anything about that.”

He shrugged. “I don’t think your maid lied to you. I think she told you what she likes. But that doesn’t mean it’s what most women like, and it certainly doesn’t have to be what you like.”

Izzie peered at him. “How do you know all this?”

He ran a hand over his face. “Not by sleeping with dozens of women, believe me. Although I will admit to not being a virgin. Prior to you, I had slept with precisely two women. But, as a general rule, I like to understand how things work. So, I asked questions. Lots and lots of questions.”

Izzie shrugged. “It’s probably for the best that one of us knows what they’re doing. But…” She bit her lip. “Did they truly say that? That most women prefer the… the clitoris?”

His ears had gone pink. “The question I asked was how best to please a woman. They both directed me to attend to that spot. The first time, I was surprised and asked if women would not derive pleasure from… well. Doing what pleased me . She told me that some would, but not all, and that if I really wanted to make a woman happy, I would fondle her clitoris.”

Izzie raked a strand of hair out of her face. “I wish I numbered amongst those who enjoy both. I can’t help but feel like it’s extra work for you.”

“You could just as easily consider the things that bring me to climax to be the ‘extra work,’ and the things you enjoy to be fundamental to the act,” he countered.

She blew out a frustrated huff. “Nobody would consider your acts to be the superfluous ones. Your acts are necessary for procreation.”

His chest shook with laughter. “We are specifically trying not to procreate!”

She narrowed her eyes at him. “Must you be so contrary? You’re not one of those men who cannot bear for anyone else to win an argument, are you?”

Eyes tender, he brushed a strand of hair behind her ear. “You are one of the most intelligent people I’ve ever met, so I’m sure you will win a good many arguments. Just not when the point you’re trying to make is that something is wrong with you. Because that position is indefensible.”

Izzie felt her insides turn to mush. He was slightly wonderful, this new husband of hers. “Still, it seems like a lot of extra trouble for you, especially if you add those minutes up over time.”

“Izzie,” he laughed, “the minutes I spend making love to you are the best minutes of my day. Do you really think I’m going to complain that I get a few more of them?”

“I suppose not. Still—eeyah!” She shrieked as Archibald seized her about the waist, rolling them back onto the mattress. “What are you doing?”

His voice was full of humor. “This morning, you implied that there would be more unnatural acts and fewer arguments about whether one or both of us are reaching orgasm the wrong way. Which is a nonsensical question. The wrong kind of orgasm—now there’s an oxymoron if ever I’ve heard one.”

Izzie recognized this as the distraction it was. But it was a good distraction, and she found herself asking, “Was there a particular unnatural act you were hoping to try?”

“It happens that there is. Was there a picture in your brother’s book of a man lying on his back and the woman sitting on his face?”

“There was. I wasn’t quite sure what they were—eek!”

He had lifted her as easily as if she were a rag doll, spreading her legs and settling her above him. She felt everything between her legs give a throb.

He smiled up at her. “I believe a demonstration is in order.”

Afterward, Izzie had to own that Archibald did not, in fact, seem to mind going to the extra trouble of bringing her to satisfaction. In fact, he seemed to have a particular enthusiasm for the task. And as she settled her head on his shoulder and allowed her eyes to drift shut, she mused that this hasty marriage just might work.