She stared at him in astonishment for several moments, until at last she found her voice. "My, but you certainly believe in being candid, Mr. Stone."
He relaxed his grip on her hand, but she did not yank it from his grasp, for which he was profoundlty grateful. "I'm sorry if you're shocked by my forthrightness, Vanessa. But I insist upon being truthful with the woman who is about to become my wife. To do any less is to set us both up for misery and bitter recriminations later."
She nodded. "Thank you. I will admit to being slightly shocked at us having such a candid conversation, but glad you told me."
"It doesn't repel you?" he asked gently.
"No," she replied after a time. "I understand that that type of desire can be a very powerful thing."
"Have you, er, felt such strong desires yourself?"
She blushed. "I am chaste, sir."
"I know that. But that does not mean you have no desires." He caressed her arm now, and she could see exactly what he meant. The flutterings of longing she had begun to experience in his company were getting stronger with every passing minute. But there was so much to be frightened of in her present situation...
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
Despite the ache of longing she felt at being so near Clifford, talking of such intimate things, she forced herself to step away from him. The instant their contact was broken she felt bereft.
"I'm sorry. I'm not disgusted, truly. It's just, well, so powerful isn't it? I believe it's been compared to, um, sap rising?" she said timidly.
He nodded. "Yes, it was like that when I was younger. I'm more in control now. I can thnk with my brains, if that's what you're worried about."
She blushed and giggled. "You were about my age when--"
He nodded. "A bit older. But I can recall my teen years as agony. It was like my blood boiling."
"And now?"
He laughed shortly, his eyes glowing. "It still is, but I'm much more particular. And desire is as much of the mind as the flesh now. The intimate connection of genuine regard, as opposed to, um, interlocking body parts."
She clapped her hand over her mouth and giggled with shock and curiosity.
"And is it, well, so very wonderful?" she asked in a whisper.
"It can certainly be very joyous," he said, taking her hand to kiss it. He began to fondle it then, gently, stroking the back and between her fingers intimately. "I imagine that with a woman I loved, it would be incredible."
"And is it, well, scary?"
"Doing something new for the first time always is, my dear. And in this instance a woman has every reason to feel trepidation. It is a most intimate act, and she is trusting everything, including her safety to her beloved. A good man will understand and respect that, and never, ever take advantage. Will do everything needful to transform the pain into pleasure."
She felt her breath snag in her throat. Oh, it sounded just too wonderful for words.
They walked on for a time in silence, his caressing her hand as if trying to memorize every inch of it. "Would you like to sit?" he asked softly, his breath warm on her cheek.
She nodded, not able to trust her voice.
"May I?" he asked, bowing over her hand once more.
"Yes."
He began to kiss the back of her hand, then turned it over to press his lips to her palm. She let out a squeak as he licked it, and jolted upright and pulled back automatically when he ran it between her small and ring fingers.
He dropped it at once. "I'm sorry. It was too much--"
"No, no, don't be sorry. I was just being sillly--"
"Not at all. If you're not comfortable with it--"
She sighed. "I liked it, but it was just so, well, startling."
"A rush of sap, was it?" he asked with a straight face.
When she laughed, he allowed himself a chuckle.
"Yes, something like that. But I wouldn't mind if you tried again."
"Truly?"
She wiped her hand self-consciously on the lap of her black gown and presented it to him once more.
He repeated his actions, and this time she leaned back on the bench and allowed him to lick and even nibble her palm and fingers. Her respiration grew ragged, heat pooled in her belly like molten lava, and her breasts thrust almost demandingly against the silk of her gown. She only pulled away when he slid the silk and lace up her wrist and began to sensually caress her forearm with both hands and his tongue.
"Oh, Lord, sap indeed," she said, rising to her feet abruptly and putting the bench between them.
"I'm sorry."