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“I guess.”
“Shall I fix us something and bring it back up?” She smiled then, and I kissed her. “It’s okay. You don’t have to get out of bed.”
“Thank heavens for that. I don’t think my legs are working yet.”
I chuckled and, after another couple of kisses, I resisted the temptation to take her again, and got up, going downstairs, where I finished the salad I’d started making earlier, and added the chicken, which had cooled off in the oven. I poured us both a glass of white wine and put everything onto a tray, carrying it upstairs again. Livia had unfastened the braid in her hair, and sat up in bed, greeting me with a tired smile.
“We’ll eat this and go to sleep,” I said, handing her a bowl, while leaving her glass of wine on the nightstand.
“Oh?” I couldn’t miss the disappointed note to her voice, or fail to notice the way her eyes dropped to my hard-on, and I chuckled as I got back into bed beside her.
“You want more, do you?”
She turned to face me. “More…?”
“Of me.”
She blushed, biting on her bottom lip, although she was smiling. “Yes, I do.”
“I’m relieved to hear it. But I think it’s gonna be better if we wait until the morning.”
“Why?” Again, there was that hint of dismay.
I shifted a little closer, leaning in to her. “You’re probably sore.”
She paused and then said, “I am… but only a little.”
“A little sore is sore enough for me. Hurting you once was bad enough. I’m not doing it again.”
She took a bite of chicken and gazed up at me. “H—Have you done that before?”
I frowned down at her. “Which part?”
She lowered her eyes, staring at her bowl. “Have you… have you slept with someone like me before?”
I reached over, placing my finger beneath her chin and raised her face, until our eyes met. “There is no-one like you, Livia. There never could be.”
“That’s not what I meant.” I suddenly realized what she was trying to say.
“You mean, have I slept with a virgin before?” She nodded her head. “No, I haven’t.”
“Then how do you know?”
“Know what?”
“Everything.”
I smiled at her. “I don’t know everything.”
“Yes, you do. You knew when it would hurt. You knew I’d be sore.”
I shrugged my shoulders. “Those are just instincts.”
“Instincts?”
“Yes. A lot of this is instinct… knowing where to touch, where to kiss, where to lick.”
She closed her eyes for a second, shuddering slightly, and I knew she was remembering what we’d done. “And how am I supposed to know where to touch, where to kiss, where to lick?”
